tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121898465339801682024-03-14T01:06:16.081-04:00Tales From A Modern BardHazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.comBlogger152125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-84398074435071700182022-10-31T18:08:00.002-04:002022-10-31T18:08:19.110-04:00The Watcher- Original Horror Story by Hazel West<p>It's been a while, but I wanted to share the horror story I wrote for the Short Story Jam I hosted back in August. Hope you enjoy!</p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ufnuC4_bvrUskaVxzOiWnfrsEp3VAAHRWE2Z2wXY3eWRtAUR5hE6FRFAJxY1lpcXkLfMJsROA4yX7SyuIaYJXckYmdsx-cSbRfPaceIuQi2sNsHM5qEdjJlYCnP5nnrf_g9UzEb3o22E0q77DGNoDJGTJ109MkdY3OKemHi8d5oDp0YV3X5APHQluA/s3926/watchercover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3926" data-original-width="2883" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ufnuC4_bvrUskaVxzOiWnfrsEp3VAAHRWE2Z2wXY3eWRtAUR5hE6FRFAJxY1lpcXkLfMJsROA4yX7SyuIaYJXckYmdsx-cSbRfPaceIuQi2sNsHM5qEdjJlYCnP5nnrf_g9UzEb3o22E0q77DGNoDJGTJ109MkdY3OKemHi8d5oDp0YV3X5APHQluA/s320/watchercover.JPG" width="235" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Watcher</span></span></div><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">By Hazel B. West<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Sofia had lived in the woods for as long as she could remember. And she had lived alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Once upon a time (as the story books say) she thought there had been adults, perhaps parents—her parents even—but that had been so long ago all she had were vague memories of tall figures standing over her cradle, loving arms rocking her gently to sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She didn’t know what happened to them, why they left, or why she had stayed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But she was pretty sure it had something to do with the dark figure she frequently saw in the woods.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It had been as much of a presence as she was, so often looming in the darkness that quickly swallowed the trees no matter what time of day it was. Always too far away to really make out, but close enough to make Sofia uneasy. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia didn’t like straying too far from the cabin because of it. Not that it had ever tried to do anything to her, but she didn’t necessarily trust it not to either, especially if it thought she was getting too close. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> So she kept her traps and snares near the cabin, even though sometimes that meant the yield was not as good. There was luckily a brook that ran several hundred feet behind the cabin and otherwise her own garden provided anything else she might have needed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia had lived like this for as long as she could remember and she was fine with it. She would keep to her space as long as that dark figure kept to its.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Winter was setting in when there seemed to be a shift in the woods.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia noticed it first when it seemed quiet. The winter woods were always a little quieter. There were not the baby birds of the spring, the bugs of summer, or the foraging squirrels and other rodents in the autumn. A lot of animals hibernated and once the snow fell it created a quiet blanket to muffle the majority of sounds. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But still, Sofia knew the difference between the winter quiet and a bad quiet—a dangerous quiet. It was the same feeling she got whenever she spotted the dark figure—the Watcher, she called it— in the forest. Though it never did anything to class it as violent, the animals all seemed to realize it was not one of them and stayed clear of it like Sofia did. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And yet, there was something that felt darker about this particular quiet. Something looming at the edges of the small clearing her cabin sat in, feeling as oppressive as the lowering of an oncoming storm with a similar shift in atmosphere. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was not something Sofia recognized and that terrified her in ways she couldn’t stand to admit to herself.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> For all the unease the Watcher gave her, it was still a constant. This…this was something new and if the animals didn’t like it, Sofia didn’t either. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She took a large stick with her today when she went out to check her snares. She rarely kept it unless she’d heard wolves nearby, but it made her feel more secure with its weight in her hand. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia was slightly discouraged when she found that her first two snares did not hold anything even though the area she usually set them up in was prolific with rabbits. She was worried when her backup snares were also bare. That was definitely unusual. It looked like she would be fishing for her supper that night.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Luckily, she had set nets in the river in anticipation of catching some extra fish to smoke for the winter before the ice froze it over and, today, there were several fish up to offer.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She pulled them out, putting them in her bucket, and then reset the net before she made her way back toward the cabin.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The Watcher was on the other side of the river.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia nearly dropped her bucket when she saw it. Tall, dark, looming there between two trees. It turned toward her, the empty eyes of a deer skull staring out from the shadows of a hood. It was closer than she had ever seen it before and Sofia could almost make out the dark weave of the cloak-like garment it wore. If an apparition even needed to wear a garment. Perhaps that was just there to make it look tangible. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> For a long second, Sofia was frozen to the spot, and then she gathered herself, backing away slowly. She didn’t turn for fear of showing the looming figure her back. She had the terrible feeling that if she did, the next time she turned around, it would be right behind her…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But it didn’t move for as long as she backed away, staying there in the shadows of the trees like it always did, and finally Sofia chanced turning around and ran the rest of the way back to the cabin, slamming the door shut and barring it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Her heart was still pounding but she felt better with the thick, firm walls of the cabin around her. She carried the fish back to the small kitchen area and started to clean them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She could not afford to be afraid. This was her home, the only one she had ever known. She refused to be afraid of anything around here.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And yet that night, long after she had eaten her fish stew and made sure the windows were closed tight against the cold, the whistling started.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Whistling, was perhaps not the best way to describe the sound, but it was the only thing Sofia could think to call it. It wasn’t screaming or howling, not quite. It could almost be mistaken for the wind, except she knew it wasn’t. Sofia had been out here long enough to know every sound in the woods. The wolves, the foxes, the elk, multiple types of birds that could be heard in the day and the night. This was not an elk, though their cries could be strange sometimes. This was not the sound of an injured fox. It was not the haunted songs of the whippoorwills or owls. No, just like the encroaching feeling of darkness, this was something new, and it chilled Sofia to the bone, sending goosepimples down her spine.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She huddled in her bed under the quilt that had been stitched together by someone other than herself. She tried to convince herself that it was the wind at first, except she knew that couldn’t be true. After all, she could see the branch of the tree nearest her bedroom window illuminated in the moonlight and it was completely still. There was no wind at all, and yet the eerie sound continued.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> What was out there? And why had it come here now?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia didn’t sleep that night, the strange whistling sound continued until the sun started to rise and then it mercifully stopped, leaving the girl exhausted and trembling in her bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Something in her made her want to investigate, a need to know something, anything about what was out there, but the sensible, instinctual, part of her knew that, just like the animals, this was not something to be messed with, and she should probably leave it alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> So, tired as she was, she worked as she usually would, going on with the household chores, readying the cabin for winter. She hated how hesitant she was to even step out into her garden, but there was nothing out there, in fact, she even heard some birds also making their winter preparations so she felt a little better. She harvested the last of the vegetables for canning and preserving and started repotting some of the plants to take inside for the winter so she would not lose all of them come the first freeze, which, considering the nip in the air, would likely be coming soon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She would have to continue growing her stock of meat and firewood though, but that could wait until tomorrow. Today she had plenty to occupy herself here at the cabin. Sofia told herself that this had nothing to do with the fear of traveling deeper into the woods.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Canning was a blessedly warm job, and she also took the extra fish she had caught yesterday and started smoking them slowly over the firepit at the back of the cabin. She would have to keep an eye on it though because it could easily attract foxes looking for an easy meal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> With her day filled, she had forgotten her worries until night began to set in again, and the dread returned. Sofia prepared her dinner, and ate in silence as always, nothing but the crackle of fire in the hearth to keep her company—a reminder that she would inevitably have to go out to collect firewood the next day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> As she turned in for the night, she thought that, maybe, whatever had been whistling out there the night before had been a fluke, but as midnight fell, there it was again, and to Sofia’s ears it seemed almost closer. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She huddled in the bed, the terror gripping her, until she finally realized that she couldn’t allow that. She was the only one out here. If she didn’t take care of things herself then no one would.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> So she got up and crossed the room to the window. Peeling the curtains back, she peered out into the darkness of the forest, barely lit with the light from the crescent moon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> At first, she saw nothing and then her eyes briefly caught the flicker of something between two trees. Well, not so much something as the lack of anything. Just a dark void where there should be light and shadow, oozing out there, huge, looming.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The whistling sound started up again, louder, more insistent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia was frozen in the window, unable to run, unable to even look away. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Then just like that, the strange black void simply disappeared into the mist, and the horrible sound faded away for the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia exhaled in relief, feeling her lungs finally start to unclench, but her relief was only short lived because as she took one last look around, she saw another dark figure looming in the night.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The Watcher.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia felt the terror clench her throat once again. The figure was standing right inside the tree line of her clearing. It had never been that close before.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Was it this being that was responsible for the disturbances recently?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia didn’t want to find out. She staggered back while the thing’s back was still turned toward her cabin and crawled back into bed, eyeing the axe that settled against the wall beside her woodpile. She wasn’t sure what that would do to something like the Watcher, but it made her feel a little better.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Oddly, the horrible whistling seemed to have stopped for now, and when Sofia’s heart finally managed to calm down and stop trying to beat out of her chest, she lay back down to sleep, curled away from the window, afraid to catch sight of anything else.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She must have passed out from pure exhaustion, though, because when she blinked her eyes open again it was morning.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia got up quickly and rushed to the window. The Watcher was no longer out there and she breathed a sigh of relief. If the whistling had returned, then she had been too deeply asleep to hear it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Somehow, she felt that as long as she stayed in the cabin she would be safe. She might be foolish to think that, but it was just a gut instinct.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Feeling a little bolstered by a good night’s sleep, she decided it was time to stop putting off what she needed to do and after a quick breakfast, she grabbed her axe and went out to chop wood and, hopefully, find better prospects for game.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> As soon as she stepped out onto the little porch of the cabin though, she noticed the items at her feet.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Firstly, there were several dark feathers like those belonging to a raven scattered around. And then there were the small branches and twigs that had been left right in front of her door, in too neat a pile to have landed there by accident. Sofia cautiously bent to pick up one of the twigs, seeing they were from a rowan tree. She frowned, confused and disturbed by their appearance. The ravens would sometimes bring her things since she left them scraps to eat on occasion but despite the feathers, this felt like a strange gift. Besides, when Sofia picked up one of the feathers, she saw how much longer it was than even a typical raven flight feather.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She refused to let it bother her, however, and simply swept the branches and feathers off her porch with her foot before heading out on her way to do her chores.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The forest felt normal that day, which was something of a comfort to Sofia. Perhaps whatever had been haunting her was just passing through. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She gathered some firewood closer to her cabin, chopping it and stacking it neatly against the back under the small shelter there to protect it from the weather. Then she went further afield, collecting and chopping more with her axe, loading the wood into her sling to carry it back. She thought she would check her snares again after this and if there still wasn’t anything in them, she would have to take them further into the woods. Just the thought sent a shiver down her spine, but she would have to find food at some point so it was a risk she was willing to take.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She continued on her way, chopping good felled wood when she found it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The change was like stepping through a film of water. The woods had been alive with the usual sounds of its occupants rustling around and one step changed that entirely. Sofia stopped as still as a deer who had spotted danger. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She had experienced the silence of the woods when the Watcher would show up, but this wasn’t the same. The forest seemed darker here, no thin beams of sunlight filtering through the thinning oaks and evergreens. And it was cold. Colder than it should have been. This chill was bone deep and had nothing to do with the time of year. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was almost like there were no animals here in this strange pocket of the woods. What was this?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Both horrified and curious, Sofia stepped forward and something crunched under her foot. She looked down to see pale ivory sticking out of the loam and pine needles covering the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Bones. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> As she looked back up she suddenly realized that there were bones <i>everywhere</i> in the small clearing. Piled and stacked together. Some buried, and others right on top with sinew still on them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia felt with a sudden certainty that this was not the work of an animal. Wolves roamed around, and even if they had a designated spot, they might not bother to drag their kills back to it. This was something else that she had never seen and it was terrifying.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> When Sofia came back to herself, she realized she was clutching the axe so tightly her knuckles whitened. She started to back slowly away from the clearing, deciding it was best not to disturb it. The fact that it wasn’t even that far from her cabin and she had never come across it before did not make Sofia feel better about any of this.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Another bone crunched under her foot as she hurried and then…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The whistling she had been hearing the last two nights slithered through the trees. The forest seemed to darken further and Sofia could see her breath from the cold. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Something dark slid between two tree trunks as the whistling sound only got louder and that was enough for Sofia.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Her fight or flight response kicked in. She threw aside the wood she had been carrying, wanting to be as light as possible and ran, heart pounding in her throat. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She could not hear the thing behind her, it didn’t make noise moving, but she <i>felt</i> it, like the most suffocating darkness, reaching out to grab her. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder for fear of what she would actually see. She had her axe but she didn’t think it would help to use it against this…thing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And then…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She staggered out into her own clearing, the cabin right in front of her. She heard a hiss as if of rage or disappointment as the whistling dissipated.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia didn’t stop, she ran directly into the cabin and slammed and barred the door.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She slumped down against it, clutching her axe tightly, trying to catch her breath.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was several minutes before she had gathered herself and she finally got up and peered out one of the windows. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The forest was still deathly silent and darker than it should have been. She could see the thing that had chased her prowling around the perimeter of her clearing and her mouth was dry with horror. Its whistling was almost cajoling now, which was worse than the haunting tones of before.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia didn’t know what she was going to do. Whatever this thing was it was dangerous and she had no doubt that if it had caught her out there today, she would have joined that pile of bones.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But that raised the question: why didn’t it come to the cabin?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Perhaps it was the smoke that kept it away?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> With that thought, Sofia moved herself to put more wood on the fire. It might be a waste, especially considering the lack of wood she had collected that day, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It didn’t seem to make the thing disappear back further into the woods though. In fact, it continued to prowl around the perimeter of the clearing all afternoon and into the evening. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> That night, it howled once more, the sound much louder now, more insistent. Sofia slept with her head under the pillow, trying to block out the sound.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> At some point during the night, after drifting off for a brief moment, she was startled by a horrible screeching sound and then finally everything went silent. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Only after that did Sofia truly fall asleep, feeling somehow that it wouldn’t come back, at least not that night. She didn’t quite have the courage to look out the window, honestly wished she had boarded it up instead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She woke late the next morning, still exhausted from bad sleep. The fire had gone out sometime during the night and she shivered in the cold cabin. She dragged on her thick socks and boots, and threw her coat around herself before she chanced venturing out of the cabin to grab more wood.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She stopped directly on the porch. Like yesterday, there was something there, but there was no way this had been anything but deliberate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A brace of rabbits lay on the boards, along with more rowan twigs, but this time, they had been bound up into little bundles with rough string.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia looked around, heart in her throat, and finally demanded “Who are you?!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> There was no answer, however, and she simply stood there for several long seconds shivering, before she grabbed the rabbits and brought them inside. She inspected them, but they had been cleanly slaughtered and drained, only leaving the skinning for her to do. It was undeniably a welcome addition to her larder. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia cautiously headed back outside to grab wood for the stove. She cast another look at the strange bundles of rowan twigs. What was the purpose of that? Was it supposed to be a gift? Or was she meant to do something with it? It wasn’t like it was that special, there were rowan trees all over the clearing. She had always liked the red berries they produced, thought they were pretty…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> For the first time, Sofia realized that she had never really seen a rowan tree further than the river. In fact, most of them in the area seemed to be centered around the clearing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Curious, she bent to pick up one of the small bundles. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Did this have something to do with why that thing couldn’t get to her here? Was the rowan some kind of ward?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A chill ran down her spine as she thought of the implication. Was she meant to have brought the rowan with her the day before? And if she had, would she have gotten chased by that thing?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> With that thought in mind, she took one of the bundles and tucked it into her coat pocket before she grabbed the rest of them and took them into the cabin, setting them onto the kitchen table.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But the other thought in the back of her mind was that, if that was the case, then who had brought her the rowan in the first place?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She thought briefly of the Watcher standing out in the clearing past the tree line the other night as the whistling sounded through the woods. Was it the culprit? And if so, why?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> These were things Sofia really didn’t want to think about at the moment, however, and decided to just go about her tasks as usual. Though she would definitely be keeping the rowan in her pocket from now on, just in case.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She went about her tasks normally that day, and the forest felt the way it should again. She did cut a large swath around the area with the bone field in it. Sofia had no desire to ever see that again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She pulled more fish from the river and chopped more wood. The days were growing shorter so she felt like she didn’t get much done, but she was determined not to be out anywhere near nightfall since <i>it</i> always seemed to come back at that time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> As she was gathering wood though, she noticed something, looking up at one of the rowan trees she had been thinking about earlier. The leaves were lush and the berries still grew bright red. Even though winter was settling in colder every day it looked no different than it had in the middle of summer. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Except one. Sofia had been pacing between the rowans, seeing that they really did appear to surround the clearing, when she came across one that was not green with berries like the others. In fact, this one wasn’t just bare for the winter, it looked like it was rotting.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia crouched down to inspect the base of the trunk and saw clear rot stretching into the trunk from the tree’s roots. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The sight left her uneasy. Was this just a natural occurrence, or…?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia stood swiftly and headed back to her cabin; she was done for the day anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She finished with the rabbits and made up a quick stew. As it was cooking, she went back out and took all the rowan branches that had been left the day before, tacking them above the windows and leaving some in front of her door. She was going to take as many precautions as possible.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was several days before the whistling came in the night again. Sofia had hoped that maybe whatever that thing was had left and gone to haunt someone else, but apparently that wasn’t the case. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And really, she was all alone out here, who else was it going to haunt?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia was usually okay by herself. She always had been. The woods had always been there for her. But now, with this strange shift, it was almost like the woods had turned on her. Was no longer the lifelong friend she had known. It was now harboring an enemy who was set to destroy her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Midwinter was approaching, and Sofia had a feeling she needed to be ready. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But first she had to find the will to sleep through the night while having to listen to that insistent whistling sound that for some reason always compelled her to look out the window.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Now that she was looking for it, she noticed that more of the rowan trees were dying, rotting away from the base. She concluded that it was not natural. It seemed like a new one died every time she heard the whistling at night.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia wondered what would happen when they all died, and clutched the small, still fresh, bunch of rowan that she always kept in her pocket now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Things were still showing up on her porch, mostly game. There was even a deer one morning, a blessing indeed for Sofia had been too wary to go far enough afield to hunt for venison to smoke and dry for the winter. She’d done what she could with the fish, but this would be a very welcome addition to her stores.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She had stopped questioning the gifts. There were some things she would rather not know the answer to.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> There was another shift in the forest as the days got closer to midwinter. The first snowfall had left a powdery white blanket across her clearing. Sofia usually loved the first snow, it was always so clean and crisp, but this year, she couldn’t ignore the dark, oppressive feeling encroaching on her cabin. It seeped in like a poison, and maybe that’s what it was. She had counted the day before. There were only ten rowan trees left alive. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Ten days until midwinter. She didn’t think that was a coincidence. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The oppressive feeling got worse. There was no wildlife left in the surrounding area. Not even fish in the stream—when Sofia ventured there. She had been so hesitant to leave the immediate vicinity of the cabin, that she had been mostly melting snow for water. She didn’t think she imagined the physical darkness either. It wasn’t just from the natural shift of the sun, or the days getting longer. There was a genuine deepening of the shadows past the trees, an oozing black that Sofia feared would overtake her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But she had nowhere to go. She had no other option but to stand her ground and she was determined to do that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> So she did what she could. Pulling down as many branches from the remaining rowan trees that she could get to and weaving some sort of barrier around the cabin with them. She hadn’t gotten a gift for a while, but her…protector?...had taught her what to do and she would use that knowledge.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She had not seen the Watcher for days either. Maybe whatever else was out there had finally scared it off.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> For some reason that caused a heavy pit to form in Sofia’s stomach.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Maybe she really was, finally, all alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Counting down the days, counting the dying rowan trees, until whatever was going on in these woods finally came to a head and either she came out the other side, triumphant, or she didn’t have to worry about anything ever again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Midwinter night fell with an impending sense of dread. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia watched the sun slip behind the trees, wanting to beg it to stay, but knew that she had to be brave because no one else would do that for her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She checked her barrier of rowan and barred the door to the cabin as darkness fell. She sat there in the main room, holding onto a stake she had made out of a larger rowan branch, her axe also close to her side. The fire was crackling, glowing heartily in the little oven, but it didn’t ward off the shivers that would come intermittently. They didn’t have anything to do with the cold.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And then, as the sun finally slipped below the horizon, the whistling started.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But this time, it was louder than Sofia had ever heard it. Shrieking tones that tore into her head, forcing her to cover her ears. It made it impossible to think, maddening almost. It was close. So close.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Then somewhere through the shrieking, she heard the cracks and snaps of branches being violently broken. An ill wind picked up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was coming.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia could no longer stay in her seat by the fire. She got up, stake and axe clutched tightly in her hands as she made her way to the window, taking a cautious look out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Red eyes in the darkness locked directly on her. Sofia staggered back as the whistling came, now tinged in a cry of victory and the eyes and dark void attached to them surged forward.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia couldn’t stop the scream that came from her throat as she scrambled back until she hit the wall. The sound of claws scratching the outside of the cabin frantically as if the thing was trying to tear its way inside grated to her very bones, gripping her heart with fear.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> <i>Let it</i> <i>come, s</i>omething in Sofia suddenly said and, finally, it was like, being face to face with this thing, she felt a sense of resignation. If it wanted her so badly, it was going to have to come and drag her out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The scratching stopped briefly and Sofia’s breath caught in her throat, not daring to hope that it would give up that quickly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She was right, because another shriek came before there was furious scratching at the glass of the window in her bedroom. Sofia had put rowan on the sill but it didn’t seem to be doing any good now. Whatever this was seemed to have been strengthened by the darkness of midwinter night. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> There was a crack in the glass, and Sofia scrambled upright, standing there in the middle of the small cabin, staring directly at the window the thing was trying to enter through. With one more earsplitting whistle, the glass shattered and it squeezed in.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia knew in that instant that if she lived past this night, the image would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. It had no real form that she could make out, and yet it was like it was made of everything terrible. Claws and teeth and glowing eyes, all muddled up in a void that was so far from being part of this world that it was almost unfathomable.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It oozed through the window, claws tearing into the walls as it forced its way into Sofia’s sanctuary.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She stood there, facing it, heart racing and feeling like she couldn’t breathe, but she stood her ground, the rowan spear clutched tightly in her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The thing gave another triumphant whistle and surged forward, right toward Sofia.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia dropped her axe and put all her strength into holding the spear out in front of her. At the last second, as claws reached for her, she surged forward herself, with a defiant scream and thrust the spear toward the dark mass bearing down on her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia slammed her eyes shut, and heard a horrible scream of pain as the spear found something solid in the seemingly amorphous mass. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She opened her eyes to see it had gone through where the thing’s shoulder should be, the area around it fading to tar-like black as if the rowan was dissipating the creature all together.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But it obviously wasn’t enough to finish it off entirely, because it furiously struck out at her with another earsplitting shriek. Its claws tore through Sofia’s coat sleeve and flesh, throwing her across the room into the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She slammed into it hard, all the breath knocked from her lungs. For too long of a second she lay there, gasping, her arm in agony, watching as the thing ripped the spear from its body and flung it almost contemptuously aside. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It took a lumbering step toward her, whistling in fury.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia looked around frantically, seeing her axe where she had dropped it. If she was quick, she might be able to grab it…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> With a cry, she pushed herself to her knees and lunged for the axe at the same time the monster went for her again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Her hand clenched around the haft of the axe as claws clamped around her arm, pinning it and the axe to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia pulled desperately to free herself, refusing to go out like this. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> This thing smelled like death, especially close like this, and Sofia choked on the fetid smell as it leaned closer, taking its time now that it had her cornered. She stared up at it defiantly, refusing to back down.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The door then slammed open with a huge gust of wind and a swirl of raven feathers. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The monster screeched in fury and Sofia turned to see the Watcher looming in the doorway before making its way inside. It seemed bigger, stooping under the mantle, power obvious in its mannerisms as it glided more than walked into the cabin.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The monster staggered away from Sofia and she scrambled back just in time for the Watcher to lunge and grab onto the thing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The whistling shriek grew impossibly louder, until Sofia was forced to curl up in the corner, hands over her ears, screaming along with it as if that would alleviate the terrible sound. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The wind whipped through the cabin, throwing things everywhere, clattering pots in the kitchen. Then the Watcher was dragging the thing out of the cabin as it clawed the floor, leaving huge marks in the wood. Sofia watched in horror as it was finally pulled out the door, which then slammed shut.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The sounds of furious whistling and a massive struggle continued for what felt like an eternity as Sofia huddled there on the floor, her nerves shattered in relief at still being alive.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It must have been too much for her body to handle all at once because she fell unconscious, unbothered by the horrible sounds coming from the forest outside.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Sofia came to slowly. The light of the dawn was coming through the windows, and it took her a long moment to figure out where she was.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Then she realized she was on the floor on the far side of the kitchen. She pushed herself up, wincing with a gasp as she felt the pull of scabs on her arm. She glanced down and saw the bloody tears in her coat. Her axe and the broken rowan spear were lying nearby. The cabin was a mess, broken glass scattered from the window in her bedroom, claw marks scratched across the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And raven feathers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> All reminders that last night had actually happened.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia pushed herself to her feet and rushed to the door, throwing it open.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Birds sang in the trees. She could hear squirrels chattering, running through the snow before quickly retreating to their warm nests. Everything felt as it should again. She went to grab a bucket of fresh water from the river to wash her arm and make tea and noticed all the fish were there too, even a deer drinking water from further down the stream.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It felt so normal that Sofia might have thought it had all been a dream except for the fact that her arm had been clawed open and there was a disaster back in her cabin.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> As she was carrying the water back, she spotted the dark figure standing in the center of the clearing. For a second her heart skipped a beat, but it was just the Watcher. Dark robes and deer skull. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She had come to realize that she had never had to worry about the Watcher, that, maybe, it had always been there to look after her. A silent protector. Of these woods, and of her. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> There was a comfort in that that Sofia had never realized until last night. She also suspected it was this apparition that had been responsible for all the game and rowan left on her doorstep.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Who are you?” she asked it compulsively. “What are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The Watcher turned as if to look at her with the empty eyes of the deer skull. It did not reply—perhaps it couldn’t—it simply cocked its head to one side, considering her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia clutched her bucket in cold hands. “Thank you,” she said instead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> This time the Watcher gave a nod, and then seemed to fade slightly in the early morning light. A breeze picked up and soon there was nothing left but several raven feathers lying in the show.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Sofia reverently picked them up, taking them into the cabin with her and collecting the other feathers along with them, placing them in a small pot on the window sill. For some reason these felt more like a protective talisman than the rowan had.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was a while before Sofia saw the watcher again, but every time she did now, it brought a comfort to her instead of unease. As far as she could tell there was no sign of whatever that other monster had been. She’d even ventured toward the bone field one day and found it all gone, as clear as it ever had been. Wildlife had come back to that part of the forest, and even though it was winter, Sofia’s traps were plentiful. And whenever they weren’t, something was always bound to appear of her porch. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She even found new rowan trees growing from the dead ones around her clearing come spring. It seemed that the forest was repairing itself after that creature had tried its best to destroy it with no avail.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The forest could be a dark and dangerous place sometimes, but Sofia would always consider it home. And she knew that as long as the Watcher was out there somewhere, she, and the forest, had nothing to fear.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-60531138132297051702020-11-05T02:06:00.000-05:002020-11-05T02:06:24.638-05:00Haunted House Challenge: "Evil Ghosts" -- by Shine<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Evil Ghosts</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">by Shine</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know what's like to sleep in a Haunted House. I've dealt with it since 2016, I was a teenager back then, as it first started with the phone answering machine. "Hello. No one here to answer the phone. Please leave a message after the tone." But the phone never rang and neither did the answering machine. </span></p><p><b id="docs-internal-guid-feedf2f6-7fff-e8f6-0725-607e9715e586" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then, on a different night, someone or something threw things at me and I BEGGED for it to stop, so it stopped. As years went on, things were getting more and more creepy. The two old organs (one was an old pedal organ that barely works, and the other one was an old electric organ that sort of works) would play by themselves with a creepy, frightening music/sounds coming out of them. </span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Many nights I couldn't sleep until 4AM, because if I sleep before 4AM, Evil Ghosts would jump on the bed, they would sing like an angel (these aren't angels), attempting to speak to me, and their shadow presence brings in fear feeling in the room.</span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I guess I should be happy about not having those frightening sleep paralysis with the choking feeling. It has gotten to the point where I had the lights on in the basement and nightlights in my room. Just when I was getting over the fear of the dark. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Other times, I’ve seen ugly grey shadow figures of Evil Ghosts, both day and night, and they’ve used voices that I recognized. But there were other things that I’ve found weird and a little disturbing to me. My body wash went from smelling nice with a smooth texture, to a slimy texture with the smell of death, making me feel nauseous. And the other one weird thing was something hitting the floor, where my feet were, from the basement ceiling. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Plus there are some rooms, inside and outside of the house, I don’t like going there at night, but I had to, the lights must be on and I have to talk to myself. Just to keep myself from being afraid. </span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There were times I’ve had a breakdown from these things in a Haunted House, but I’ve kept on going. If I quit now, the Evil Ghosts will win by frightening me away. </span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is my experience of being in a Haunted House, that I didn’t realize it was until years later, since childhood, but I’ve also heard other stories that involved the same house. I no longer have the desire to live in that house anymore like I wanted to when I was a young child.</span></p><p><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></p>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-24597194998354416252020-11-02T01:17:00.000-05:002020-11-06T03:28:06.199-05:00Haunted House Challenge: "A Certain Beastly Tube" -- by Joseph Leskey<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Sans"; font-size: 18pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A Certain Beastly Tube</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Sans"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">by Joseph Leskey</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I came home from Gordon’s Institute of Law, where it was my intent to become an insignificant lawyer, I was miserable, sleep-deprived, and a chief constituent of my blood was caffeine. I was sixteen or seventeen at the time and was caught up in a very popular movement fixated on despair and righteous wrath. In short, I came home with the intention to do some dread deed like standing on top of the federal courthouse only two blocks away and shouting “Hail to the despot of Bonvka!” It was very fashionable in those days for the youths of the Derkin Confederation to hail the despot of Bonvka. For all the little good it did, it felt like a measurable affront to our stoic and cunning legislators.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I took the train back to my town because young folks used trains in those days. Then I took the bus for a relatively short distance to my house, and the driver let me out with a wide smile, saying, “Good luck, lad,” rather ominously.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Coming back home was mostly a predictable experience. I was exclaimed over, Dad said encouraging things about my scores (looking rather worried as he did so); Mom assured me that my scores were very good. It all made me interested in my scores; oddly enough, I didn’t know them. There was something that did catch me off guard, though. The second day of my homecoming, my sister Catherine told me to go away when I walked into the kitchen to find her and a fellow she called “Nebby dear” staring adoringly at each other and discussing macroeconomics. Both of these activities, it transpired, occurred every day and always just when I wanted to eat breakfast. In fact, Nebby dear seemed to be present almost constantly. Still, he was an interesting sort. When he finally tore his focus away from Catherine long enough to notice me, he said, “Well, color my tweed! It’s not Neitersen Mestre? Good lad!”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I tried to respond intelligently, but his original focus had already been regained and intensely so. Catherine told me to go away.</span></p><p><b id="docs-internal-guid-07a53ca3-7fff-a15f-eb04-56a414c395e0" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t feel so much like hailing the despot of Bonvka when I was away from academia. In fact, I decided I would cut myself loose of law school and join my cousin Marta as a special governmental agent of Base Mango Bromhead. In fact, I reflected sleepily, that was what I should have done all along. I closed my eyes.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Anord of the Celts is under you. Rise, chosen of Anord. Stay here. Come to Anord.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was walking into the earth, deeper and deeper through wide caverns and through tiny holes. Always I was trying to reach a green glow in the distance. Suddenly, I fell through something and looked upon the glow much more closely. There was something blue within it, and it was evil.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">YES!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” squealed Catherine from the next room. I squinted at a conveniently placed clock. 5:30, and not in the afternoon either. There was no further noise from Catherine’s end, so I closed my eye to go back to sleep. It didn’t work because Mom and Dad’s respective voices could suddenly be heard, collectively awake and energetic, and they and Catherine were soon having a long discussion about Nebby dear’s obtainment of a decent job in the capital, Catherine’s work as a parliamentary secretary, Nebby dear, and fond memories of Catherine as a baby. I fell back asleep.</span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That morning I woke up to a very excited household. Apparently, Nebby dear had barged through the front door in a passion at 7:00, knelt down hard on the hallway floor before Catherine, declaring his ardent and everlasting adoration and listing his various prospects. Dad and Mom came separately to tell me the news, adding in a little commentary. They both looked rather alarmed. When they had gone, I got up. It turned out that Catherine and Nebby dear had never left the hallway. They were far too busy to notice me but I took the initiative and slipped into the bathroom where I stayed until I was quite certain they had left. It took a while because they started discussing their life plans for the next sixty years.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I spent most of the rest of that day sitting in a dark living room (the weather was dreary) with Nebby dear (whose name turned out to be Alejandro, not Nebby), listening to him go on and on in comprehensive detail about how great my sister was and blow his nose with feeling. He compulsively drank several glasses of milk as he did so. This really energized him and he began orating on “union by sacred troth” and clergy and expenses and marriage licenses – these he talked about in hushed and reverent tones.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally, I was saved by the Mom and Dad coming in. They beckoned me away just as Catherine threw herself past them and into Nebby dear.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Next month, should it be?” he asked solemnly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mom and Dad stopped beckoning, partly because I had successfully escaped and partly, I thought, because they were joining me in inclining an ear toward the conversation.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dear me,” said Catherine, “I have next week free.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Even better!” declared Nebby dear. “I actually have no pressing engagement on Saturday of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">this</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> week.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, actually, tomorrow would work very nicely for me.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah, yes,” said Nebby dear. “I think that could easily be arranged – and I don’t really want to give my relatives too much of a warning – they might turn up.” He laughed dully.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Tomorrow it is!” said Catherine.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mom pushed Dad and me out of the room and closed the door. Having a door for the living room always had seemed unnecessary until that moment.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“They’re moving a bit quickly,” breathed Dad.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“They </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">have</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> known each other a long time,” said Mom.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, but… tomorrow?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dad clapped my shoulder and Mom petted it, and they walked off toward the kitchen as if in a daze.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Supper was a silent occasion. Nebby dear was present. He ate expertly, with an enviable ability to wield a butter knife. The plans were formalized: the wedding was to be tomorrow and it was to be without much fanfare. Dad and Mom, whose wedding had been a five-day event involving professional entertainers and a town-wide feast, were very much surprised at such an idea.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nebby dear finally took his leave, informing us that he likely wouldn’t sleep at all that night. Mom then took upon herself the long task of contacting all our several relations by phone while Dad stood over her nervously. I washed the dishes. Mom continued calling. After almost every call she declared, “Not coming!” I started drying the dishes.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dad came into the kitchen, looking flushed, hot, and contented, almost exactly as if he had just won a particularly tricky marathon. He fetched himself a large apple, and chewed it with relish.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not many are coming,” he said. “Ha! Not many at all.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mom came in and she and Dad carefully went over the list of attending relatives, spreading out a notebook and a map on the table as if they were drawing up a battle plan.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My grandparents on both sides were to be present, along with my dad’s oldest brother (Uncle Alabaster), his daughter Marta, and six of my mom’s aunts.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With this knowledge in mind, I decided to go to bed. Dad heartily encouraged this and declared that he would be making cake. Mom told him that he would not, but concurred that cake was appropriate for such situations. Both of them seemed positively unsure about the speed at which things were happening. Catherine traipsed about the house and outside, texting with abandon.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I fell asleep surprisingly well. Wondering why on earth Catherine was getting married the next day boggled the mind enough to shut it off, apparently. I woke up a few times to hear dishes clinking, small appliances whirling, and Dad exclaiming how late it was. Then I slept for a while until five-thirty when I woke up to hear Catherine chattering animatedly in the next room. Probably to Nebby dear. I huffed. No sleep for me with a conversation that loud going on. I pulled out my own phone and committed myself to mindlessly interacting with it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I answered a few texts (largely with “lol no”), glanced without comprehension at my emails and accidentally deleted a few, and then started to read about squirrels. Thirty minutes later, I was reading about internal combustion engines (Catherine and Nebby dear were still going strong in their chat). Then my phone screen became brighter and brighter and then much brighter. I stared as one transfixed as my eyes watered and I experienced something very similar to acute pain. My entire room was radiantly illuminated, and then it was all suddenly dark. My pulse was pounding, and my vision had become a thick green haze. For no good reason, I took the opportunity to throw my phone. I did not hear it crash to the ground, and this caused me grave consternation. Catherine laughed quietly in the background, but I wasn’t paying much attention to her. Indeed, my attention was now turning to more remote parts of the house. I thought I heard footsteps.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The footsteps were quiet, but they were numerous and unrelenting. I muttered briefly to myself and got out of bed. Maybe something was dripping. They definitely didn’t sound like Mom or Dad. I sneaked out of my room, past Catherine’s room (“…and there </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> always retirement,” she was saying. “Yeah, yes. Exactly…”), and into the dining room that we never used. I heard a distinct sound like a pot being put on a stove-top. I gulped and tried to steady myself. Burglars, maybe? All fell silent. Maybe, I conjectured, this was just natural physics. I felt a cold wind behind me and I turned in shock to see the basement door ajar. The endless depths of darkness behind it were too much for me. I blinked in an anguish of fear and thought I saw ghoulish shapes hovering just beyond my sight.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ridiculous, Neitersen,” I muttered. I wished that I hadn’t spoken. Somewhere deep under my feet something splashed and gurgled. The room briefly glowed with the slightest hint of green. Did it come from the basement door? I took a deep breath and fairly dashed past it, zipping into my room and flipping on my light. Everything looked normal enough. My bed was tousled, my possessions were in order – but my phone was lying on my pillow. And how did it get there?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I located a nightlight in my closet and stuck it into an outlet. Only reluctantly did I deactivate its far more vibrant superior. Then I dived into bed and tried not to think too much.</span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I woke up to Nebby dear bargaining into my room in a nervous frenzy and a suit. “Wrong – where’s the basement – never mind.” He dashed out again, swallowing noisily. I shook my head. Poor my sister. He dashed back in.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hey, um, Neitersen,” he said, “things are </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">getting started</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.” He put a disturbing amount of emphasis on these last two words. He dashed out again.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dashing into a fellow’s room when he was trying to get forty winks. Who did he think he was? I groaned and resigned myself to preparing for the day.</span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was just about to enter the kitchen when I heard Uncle Alabaster ask loudly, “Where on all the foul earth is everybody? Want some toast, Marta? Looks like there’s plenty here.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No, thanks,” said Marta in the tone one uses when declining toast. “They must be out in the hole.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our property was on the main a narrow, spindly thing, but it went into a bit of woods and in that woods was a wide, circular clearing. Nobody knew why it existed, but it did. We called it “the hole.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If I have to destroy me femurs just to see a niece get married, I’m a jolly decent chap, aren’t I? Well, let’s see if I can heave an old body off this chair.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stayed very still, wondering if they were coming this way. They weren’t. I heard the front door slam. Immediately afterwards, Nebby stumbled out of the dining room, with two folding chairs in either arm.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You’d better hurry,” he said, shocked. “It’s going to start any minute.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not without you,” I pointed out.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You know, that’s actually a good point,” he said.. “Can you get the door for me?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once outside, I offered to take a chair (to gain a better estimation of his character), and as I suspected he would, he gave me two with a “thanks.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The chairs were rather clean. This surprised me because the last time I had been in the basement (almost two years ago), it hadn’t seemed like the cleanest place in the world. Of course, I paid more attention to the pipes than to anything else. Those pipes were terrifying.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was quite a task to get those folding chairs through the woods. I wondered very pointedly why we were having a wedding in the hole.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why are we doing it back here?” I asked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Doing what?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The wedding.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nebby dear paused for a moment. “Don’t know.” Then he crashed on.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we finally burst through the branches into the clearing, I made full use of my perspective. Uncle Alabaster was sitting in a camping chair with a small cheese sandwich, looking like he had been sitting there for a few hours. He and Marta must have moved fast. The latter was nowhere to be seen.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As soon as we put the chairs down, they were claimed by four of the several aunts. They all expressed their thanks.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And where’s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">your</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> family?” asked one of them, pointing a not insignificant finger at Nebby dear.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Um, some of them might be along,” he said uncertainly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hm. Not wishy-washy, are you?” muttered the aunt. “What’s your name?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Neb – Alejandro,” he replied.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">NEB ALEJANDRO?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Alabaster, did you ever hear of such a thing?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Who are you?” demanded Uncle Alabaster.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Who am I?” she shrieked. “Well, that’s nice, and no mistake about it.” She fell silent and glared.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was on Uncle Alabaster’s side. I had no idea who she was. I recognized the other five aunts, and they all smiled placidly. Mom’s father was keeping a diminishing platter of cookies company. He declared loudly that he shouldn’t eat too much cake because of very sound advice from his medical doctor. My grandmother on that side was standing beside him, shaking her head.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My other grandparents had Catherine squished between them on some kind of stone bench, and they were dealing out plenteous advice on marriage with more than adequate volume.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If he’s in a furious temper,” Dad’s mother was saying, “feed him something with lots of protein and fiber or healthy fats. Nothing too sugary, now.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Postprandial hypoglycemia,” her husband stated wisely. “Absolute bear. Absolute bear.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mom had made three cakes and she was arranging them and various other foodstuffs on a wide table. People must have really been moving things about while I slept. Dad stood by the table making threatening advances toward any flies that dared come too close.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Here,” said the aunt whose name I didn’t know, “Alexander—that is the proper form of the name…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A few of the other aunts looked horrified at this sentiment.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, it is. What decent person, speaking English, has the time of day to say Alejandro? Clearly—” She squinted at Alejandro. “Clearly, you are not Portuguese.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“True, I’m not very,” said Alejandro.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do you plan to chop firewood when you are something like a man?” she demanded.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well—”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“None of your </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">wells</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">; give me a straight answer. I can’t admire a man who won’t chop firewood.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I do not share this view,” stated another aunt mildly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, look,” growled Uncle Alabaster. “It’s the collar come.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By “collar,” he meant a clerical type who glided through the woods.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The certainly not mild aunt monitored his approach for a brief moment and then said, “Good, we can get on with it. I don’t know why I came! Look at those tables. I don’t see a single option for drinking.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Bottle o’ water </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">under</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> the table,” yelled Uncle Alabaster.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m not interested in water, and what little good water </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">under</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> a table does I hope I shan’t have to explain. If this was a decent wedding, which—” She made several doubtful expressions on her face. “—guests would be served a small glass of wine, and they wouldn’t have to ask for it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don’t </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">touch</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> vintage,” retorted Uncle Alabaster, glaring at the cleric as he came near.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah,” said the cleric, and he looked around bemusedly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">WE NEED ANOTHER CHAIR!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” yelled the grandfather I first mentioned, possibly through some cookie.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I do not need to sit,” responded the cleric. “My thanks.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ha!” The Aunt exclaimed. “Ask him what he does instead!” She said this like it was something really incriminating.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We need another chair anyway,” asserted Uncle Alabaster. “We’re one short if </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">my</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> daughter comes back. She’d give up </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">her</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> chair to one of you, wouldn’t she?” He lifted what was presumably her chair with his index finger and shook it. “Someone might as well take it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, don’t just stand there,” The Aunt coldly commanded Alejandro. “You’re about to be a man now. Do a day’s work. Fetch another chair.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’ll get it,” I said, turning to go.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ha!” she shrieked. “There! There is a promising young fellow. Initiative. Something which you have in limited quantity, I think. Bring your chair over here, Alex; I have things to say to you.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I took off at a smart pace. It was an easy task to get through the bit of forest without two chairs on one’s person, so I quickly got back to the house. As I opened the door, I felt very strongly a presence beside me. I turned and saw porch railing.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I narrowed my eyes and marched into the house, into the dining room, and to the basement door. I stopped there, suddenly realizing where I was going. My heart rate accelerated and my skin pricked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The basement.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why had I volunteered to go down into the basement?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pipes, pipes, pipes. Insulated, naked, copper, and plastic – and a certain hideous and bloated tube. I felt a dread chill and reflected that I might as well get it over with.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My history professor at law school had informed his class that the way to conquer fear was to hold your smartphone just so with the camera app open and a finger ready at the capture button. I thought there were probably better ways to do it, but as a temporary measure, I gave it a go. I grasped the doorknob and opened. The door blew open, forcing me backwards and banged against the wall.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I gasped. That was not a good start.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stepped onto the first, creaky step. It had been creaky, that is, but this time it didn’t creak. My legs wobbled, and I felt rather woozy. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta needs a chair</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, I told myself, modeling its resolution as some heroic deed. The next step did creak. I hadn’t expected it too. There was a little sound in the basement. Maybe it was the cat.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We didn’t have a cat.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The brilliant person who built the house had placed the light switch for the basement halfway down the staircase and complemented this arrangement by painstakingly structuring the basement in whatever way limited the presence of natural light. I finally reached the switch, just as I was starting to imagine faces staring at me out of the darkness. Click. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The light turned on.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But now the pipes began. The first ones were copper and they ran around the staircase in wide and improbably contorted loops. They went from these to the farthest reaches of the basement. I wasn’t quite sure what they were for. I finally reached the floor. The view as one dismounted the stairs was very limited, as the stairs ended just two feet away from a wall. It was not a pleasant prospect to turn. It seemed I could feel eyes on me, and I thought I heard a long breath. Eventually I turned to where I hoped the chairs were. It was the only pipe-free part of the basement, but the light-bulb had apparently gone out over there and it was deeply shadowed. I did not find much comfort there. I restrained a huge sigh and turned the opposite direction and looked upon that beastly tube.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was a great, curved pipe that bulged from the floor and into the wall, filthy and overlarge, wide as six or more of my arms. There was no sensible reason for its existence, yet I was certain that I could hear it gurgle softly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Before I could reach it, I had to duck under several long stretches of insulated pipe, the black material mocking me in every possible way. Right after these was a further insult, three pipes of white plastic embedded in the ceiling. But then I was past them, and my courage was mounting. But it was a hopeless sort of courage, a last stand. My hand was becoming unbearably hot and I looked down to see my phone smoking slightly. It’s screen had gone black, and suddenly it burst into flame. I threw it and it cracked against the floor, smoldering. An echo from its impact sprang throughout the room, and the pipes warped it into a horrible and unnatural sound.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Boy.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I gasped and whirled around. The tube stood there, looking less dreadful than before. My imagination, certainly. The chairs were beside the pipe. Of course they were. At least they weren’t leaning against it. I didn’t want to feel that thing holding the chairs up. I seized a chair.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You are the claw</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I whipped around. “Who’s there? Who—?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My vision was swimming. I heard a noise deep in the basement. Footsteps. Somebody was coming. I focused my terror into a single, piercing note.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A potential brute stepped out of the shadows, striding over to me in too few steps. He looked like a man, albeit one that towered over me and had an unnecessarily large rifle in his hands. I stopped shrieking.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not very manly, now was that?” he asked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“A human,” I said. Overwhelming relief coursed through me. “A human. Who are you?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you mean, who am I? I’m an intruder is what.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“An intruder?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, duh,” said the man. “Look at me. I ain’t no posy. I’m on the side of power and evil intent, and proud I am of it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, you’d – you’d. Hang on. What are you doing in – aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” I exclaimed.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A foul glove wrapped around my mouth.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Shut your gob! Not manly at all. You should be more like me. I’m down here to make sure all’s in order, aren’t I? So you’d better stay put and stay quiet. How’d you know I was down here, anyways?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Didn’t you say—”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I haven’t said a word all day, blast it with ice.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I realized I had an opportunity to do something stupid. Without further delay, I yanked down on his arm, and he overbalanced. With a vicious maneuver, I threw my weight into knocking him down. Unfortunately, compared the force his muscles were capable of, my weight was as nothing. He threw me back and pinned me with his gun against a bunch of shelves attached to the wall.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What was that for, eh? Can’t ’bide with threats to my safety.” His free hand came wriggling toward my neck.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Um, be careful,” I said uneasily. “You don’t want to hurt me.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Don’t I, then? I’ll tell you summat, little boy, I’d love to hurt you bad. Ain’t no one, grown or baby, who pulls over a move on me.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The hand came closer. I was amazed that somebody could have such a slow strangling action.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The fingers nearly reached my throat. What an absurd way to die, I thought. If he touched, I’d have to react with one final and devastating effort. It was coming. The fingers just missed. And then, the unexpected happened.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Stop that.” It was Marta’s voice. Enormous relief. Marta suddenly became my favorite cousin. Special agents of Mango Bromhead were trained to deal with things far beyond rescuing their relatives.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And who’s that?” asked the burly man, letting go of me and gripping his firearm with a grimace.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Agent of the republic. Kindly drop that monstrosity you’re holding.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What, just drop it? I don’t think so. I’d like some credentials.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta stepped up to him. “Okay. Well, turn around, then.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He turned around slowly. Immediately, his weapon clattered to the floor and he uttered unintelligible noises. “The Lieutenant,” he finally managed, taking in short, shallow breaths, and he crashed to the floor like a felled tree.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta smiled at me. “All right?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I suppose. What was he doing here?” I thought maybe she would know things like that.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don’t know. I don’t think he is alone.” She fiddled with the barrel of her handgun. If I was correct in my estimation, it would be a remarkable and futuristic handgun, the like of which agents of Mango Bromhead somehow possessed.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta cautiously approached a wall; I zipped along behind her. “The door down here was unlocked. Do you suppose it was left that way?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, no,” I said with conviction. “Certainly not.” Suddenly, my body stopped walking with a jolt as if I had been in someway constrained. My mind, which had been prepared for the next step, was baffled and disoriented.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Anord,</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” whispered some voice, “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">you are the Claw.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta turned and looked at my. “You’re a bit off color.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The best thing I could come up with was, “I don’t like pipes.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta looked up at some of them. “Same. Once I had to go down this manhole and I was just standing in this huge tube with water running by in a little channel on the side. Not fun. Okay, but I need to…” Her voice faded away, a fact that did not contribute to my inner tranquility. She stopped speaking and looked at me strangely. The whole room looked at me strangely. I would have looked at me strangely if I had the power.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Power. This word stuck in my mind as I turned to face that great tube. It called me with a greater compulsion than I had ever felt before, even greater than when my Aunt Nelly offered me three hundred dollars if I could rescue her cat from a tree. On that occasion, I had striven to do the task and despite my lack of tree-climbing ability, I had achieved my goal. I had declined the payment grandly, but Aunt Nelly gave me a thick wad of hundred dollar bills and told me not to give it back because she didn’t accept charity. Now the nebulous payment seemed still more valuable, and the task was easier. I knew that I had to call upon Anord, just as that great lobster – for a lobster I of a sudden deemed him – had summoned me.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I started forward, and in that moment my reservations about doing the bidding of a possibly imaginary lobster were repressed to the fullest extent possible. I surged toward that beastly tube as the other pipes wavered in my vision. As I approached, I heard voices and sounds, an echo of some great reality that was about to be revealed. I could reveal it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I reached the tube. It’s filth was diminished as it moved as though insubstantial, weaving through space and into my mind. I extended my hand and seized it and pulled. It was heavy. The force opposing me was greater than any that had ever opposed me before, but it was not greater than Anord. The tube swiveled away from the wall, rending a great hole. I could almost see a whole new world now, hidden by strange art behind this single entity. The end of the tube had a cap. I seized this, and turned, gritting my teeth in the effort, but not considering it. Of course I could master this opposition.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What are you doing?” said Marta’s voice, very near.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You speak to the Claw of Anord,” I stated simply. It perfectly expressed what I was trying to convey; Neitersen, for a moment, could not have agency in this world.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cap fell off, and I was looking down into the pipe. The darkness was not contained within it, and it spread and expanded. So the will of Anord would again be accomplished. He was down there, blue but glowing green. The evil bound up in him was growing closer. Perhaps he was ascending or perhaps I was falling down to him. We were the only two beings in a great void.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The void shattered. I was back in the basement, breathing heavily. Marta had me pressed against a wall, and she was staring at my eyes.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Right,” she said. “Say ‘ahhh.’”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I obliged.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Right,” she said. “How do you feel?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“A bit confused, actually.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“A history of hallucinations or whatnot?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Extreme mental strain right now?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not really.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Been getting your vitamins and minerals? A balanced intake of amino acids? Omega-3?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I think so.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Taking any medications?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not at the moment.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Been bit by anything? Been in any unusual places? Tall grass? Swampland?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Um… I don’t think… not recently.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Eaten anything strange? Potentially compromised tap water?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nope, shouldn’t think so.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Okay, well then.” She let go of me. “Can you explain this?” She gestured widely.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked around disbelievingly. A large section of wall and shelves were ripped away, letting in a certain amount of sunlight and a curious squirrel, garden tools were strewn over the area, and on this mess lay the pipe, cracked and buried under a pile of building material. The wide hole in the floor where it had once been connected was partly obscured and wholly terrifying.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Now,” said Marta. “What </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> saw was you go kind of funny and exercise phenomenal strength and destructive power. What did you see?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I explained in detail.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah?” said Marta. “That’s interesting. That really is interesting. Mind writing it out as I look around?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She pulled out a notepad and pencil and gave them to me, and then she smartly pulled out a small elliptical device from her hair. She knelt by the pipe, and the device beeped.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I turned to press the notepad against the wall, sticking my tongue between my teeth to aid my concentration, but as soon as I touched the wall, it briefly dissolved into a brilliant green outline. This effect shot quickly through the basement. It faded away in moments, but it left something behind.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A ghost was coming down the stairs. It was a stereotypical ghost, a translucent woman in trailing robes and 1880s hairstyle. As I expected, she payed no heed to us; she went straight for where pipe had been and now was again. The wall seemed farther away from the pipe, and the pipe stuck into an old-fashioned stove, which made limited sense. But this was no ordinary stove. There were inscriptions on it in an angular script, and I thought that they glowed. There was a large pot boiling on the stove, and as I crept a little closer, I was disturbed to see an ordinary clawed lobster inside it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta scooted away from the pipe (and the ghost), stood up, and whispered, “Are you seeing this?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I nodded mutely.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ghost reached the pot, picked up a paddle, and prodded the lobster. Her mouth was moving, and streams of light moved around her and through the paddle. The lobster shimmered. The inscriptions flared.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta shushed me for no apparent reason. I tried to regulate my breathing.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Suddenly, there was a rush of light and energy that I realized too late was fully capable of interacting with us. I was knocked off my feet, landing painfully on my face; Marta did some sort of sophisticate twirl beside me and maintained her position. I looked up dazedly to see four black boots with artistic blue trimming. I jumped to my feet and nearly blacked out. The boots belonged to extremely good-looking persons, a young man and a young woman who were standing there in their dark clothing and dark hair, faint blue shimmers in the air about them. They clearly belonged to my generation, so I knew there was no reasoning with them about whatever criminal activity they had planned.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Denver Polaco is my name, and this is F. Swan,” said the young man, extending his hand. He pronounced </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">F. Swan</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> very grandly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Filly Swan,” said the same. “Not very pleasant to meet you again, Lieutenant.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No offense meant,” said Denver with a friendly grin. I wished I had teeth half as healthy-looking as his.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I didn’t meet you last time,” said Marta severely, “you got away. At least now I know your names. I don’t mind saying you’ve been very troublesome to Mango Bromhead. But that is background information. At the moment, I wonder if you can think of a reasonable excuse for entering a private residence uninvited and perhaps with armed assistance.” She indicated the slumbering brutish fellow.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We have things to do,” explained Filly with an air of patience. “Don’t worry. We’ll work fast, and then you can get on with your wedding.” She smiled nicely.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And what are you doing?” I wondered.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Messing around with Anord,” said Denver in a falsely casual voice. “And we’re on a tight schedule.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He walked past us. Marta didn’t look too happy about it. “So there is indeed that woman involved,” Denver mused.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let’s see,” said Filly, “permission to just watch these proceedings?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You mean the ghost?” I asked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah,” she said, still smiling nicely. “The ghost.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta return the smile. “Why do you want to watch hert?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Filly shrugged. “Why don’t you watch too? This is an academic exercise.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m suspicious of your academic exercises,” returned Marta. “And not for poor reasons, either.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Filly,” said Denver. “This is it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How’d you know to come here to see a ghost, anyway?” I asked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We know when Anord awakes. It looks like you brought him back this time. Good show.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Thanks,” I said as we all walked over to the pipe. We were far too close to the ghost for comfort.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“See?” asked Denver. “She’s not cooking Anord. Makes sense – because who could? I think she’s working with him in some way. This could be the very key.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don’t like to think of you two getting the very key to something.” Marta crossed her arms.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“There’s someone coming.” Filly turned toward the stairs.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sure enough, in a few moments, there were footsteps on the stairs, and then Nebby dear was calling, “Hey, Neitersen! Everything okay?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You’re named Neitersen?” Denver laughed. “Interesting.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Who’s that?” Nebby dear stepped onto the basement floor. He kept compulsively brushing his suit off.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m a hardened criminal in the middle of my activities,” Denver responded swiftly. “Might as well go away.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well,” said Nebby dear. “Lucky that – aren’t you into law enforcement?” He indicated Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sort of,” said Marta evasively.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Is he all right, Nebby dear?” yelled Catherine from the top of the stairs. She began to walk down them.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah,” bellowed Nebby dear, “but looks like burglars or something.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Unfounded accusation,” said Filly. “Really unfounded.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Which is not to say we aren’t.” Denver looked rather tense, and he moved closer to Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hang on,” said Nebby dear. “What am I seeing? Why…” He shook his head viciously and blinked. “What…?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Catherine stepped down from the stairs and screamed so, so loud. “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">AAAAAAAH!! AAAAH!! GHOST! WHY ARE YOU ALL JUST STANDING AROUND? HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY’S BEEN MURDERED IN THE BASEMENT!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Shush,” said Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I WON’T SHUSH! WHAT IF SHE’S THE MURDERER? WHAT’S SHE DOING? WAS SHE MURDERED AS SHE COOKED – WHAT’S SHE COOKING?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> She can’t hear me, can she?” she added nervously. “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">REALLY SORRY, MA’AM. I JUST OVERREACTED.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You’re still overreacting,” said Filly, “calm down for once in your life.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sorry, who are you?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Filly Swan.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh.” Catherine seemed surprised.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m sorry,” said a new voice. Padded footsteps struck the stairs. “It’s time for the ceremony to begin. Declare your readiness or forever be silent.” The cleric jumped to the floor.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s not what—” began Catherine.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Blasts with a sound of metal striking metal smashed through the wall. A bunch of people in black Mango Bromhead uniforms and masks burst in and crowded around Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Did you have to come in like that?” Marta’s hand wrapped more tightly around her gun.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh no,” said Denver, scratching his head.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Filly bumped him with an elbow and rubbed her wrist. “Never mind.” She glared at Marta. “Was this a trap?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We were </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">somewhat</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> prepared for such things.” Marta cast a disapproving eye on the people in black uniforms. One of them shrugged. Another whispered the word </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">traffic</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That is a popular excuse,” said Marta. “But no matter. Denver Polaco, Filly Swan, I place you under arrest as an agent of the republic for repeatedly and directly endangering our citizens and disregarding our statutes.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Pleasant sort of person,” said Denver, staring at Marta in a handsome sort of disapproval.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Filly chuckled humorlessly. “It always seems to come to this. Maybe it’s just us somehow.” She raised a hand. Blue lights danced around it. “If you don’t want to get hurt,” she said, “leave. We will finish our task.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Will you resist arrest?” asked Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s what she just said,” said the cleric, coming forward.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Thank you for pointing that out,” said Marta. “Are you a cleric?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I am a nebulous sort of cleric, yes.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Very good. Do you two consent to being restrained.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Unequivocally no,” said Filly. “Everybody leave.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I must protest,” said the cleric. “I’ll just hurry up, shall I?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We’re not ready yet!” protested Nebby dear.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, I don’t know,” said Catherine. “If we go back there, that ‘aunt,’ as she calls herself might…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We purpose,” began the cleric, “in the assemblage of these presently gathered…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I said, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">go away</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">!” said Filly, obviously a bit annoyed. The cleric apparently didn’t hear her and continued on.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes,” said Denver, “do.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We’re not ready,” hissed Nebby dear in the cleric’s ear.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Catherine was looking between Denver and Filly. “Wow. You two look </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> good. How do you do it?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“…and to unite by sacred troth the selfsame persons also under the laws of the land…” continued the cleric.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Catherine was looking more impressed by Denver and Filly by the second. “I love that style you’ve got going! Wow. You look like eminently cool dark magicians.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Last chance to leave,” declared Filly airily.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Last chance for you to submit to the process of justice, more like,” said Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah,” said one of the agents behind her. “It gets tiring standing here, still as a statue, not breathing a word. A person can only look dignified for so long.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I backed up slowly, smiling politely at everybody.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Five seconds,” said Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Fine,” said Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They glared at each other.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“…to share a bond of…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It happened very quickly. A massive surge of bodies, a greater pulse of magic, flashes of lights and horrendous sounds – pipes fractured and tools fell as a great disturbance of dust rose up in great plumes.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Aaaaaaah!” yelled Catherine.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“…</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">AND LOVE,</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” yelled the cleric. “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">COMMITTING TO EACH OTHER IN EQUAL MEASURE…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">STAY BEHIND ME, MY DARLING</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">,” said Nebby dear.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I edged toward their voices. It seemed like agents were everywhere, always firing science fiction type blasts from their guns. I didn’t see why so many guns needed to be fired until I reached a gap between two agents that I could peer through. Filly and Denver did not have smiles on their faces now, but their methodological and stalwart approach to combat was just as impressive. Dark blasts and blue ribbons of lights wrapped around them, striking out with vicious effect against their assailants. Most of the agents, I noticed, were starting to edge back; Marta, however, with a very unamused countenance, moved slowly forward while somehow defying the magical attacks with her firearm.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I reached Catherine and Nebby dear. The cleric, displaying not insignificant arm strength, was holding their hands together as they struggled and hollered.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“…</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">DO YOU SOLEMNLY DECLARE</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">,” he questioned, “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">NOW AND FOREVER TO UPHOLD THESE COMMITMENTS, THIS SOLEMN AND PARTICULAR CHARGE, REGARDLESS OF HEALTH OR CIRCUMSTANCE, TO THE BEST OF YOUR ABILITY OR…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah ha!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” said a new voice triumphantly. It was The Aunt. Somehow she did not have to yell to be heard. “Go to see about the boy indeed. I knew this whole thing was so you could </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">elope</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We are </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">not</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> eloping,” Catherine told her as soon as The Aunt had elbowed through the mass of agents. “He just won’t stop marrying us.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah, I see. In the company of a rather rough crowd. The scene of crime is no place to get married. It is distasteful, girl, and vile. No doubt your Alexander is used to this sort of ‘ceremony.’ How will your relatives give their reasonable objections if there are no relatives present? Oh, yes, I think of these things, unlike some. By all means, sir, carry on. You will find the assembly is not wholly deficit.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cleric had been carrying on this whole time. His eyes were scrunched up, his face was red, beads of sweat poured down his clerical forehead, but still he persisted. “…</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">LIFE. SIR!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes,” asked Nebby dear testily.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">HAVE YOU HEARD AND COMPREHENDED THESE THINGS?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, yes, but…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Say ‘I have,’” reprimanded The Aunt. “I’m sure no civilized person would try to respond incorrectly on such a sacred occasion.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cleric raised his voice to such a volume that the battle faltered a bit as people tried to get away from him. “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">WITH THESE THINGS IN MIND AS I HAVE SAID THEM, UNDERSTANDING MY WORDS TO BE FALLIBLE BUT THE SPIRIT OF MY WORDS TO BE PURE AND NECESSARY TO THE CONTINUATION OF JOY AND THE BLESSINGS OF THIS RELEVANT STATE, DO YOU, ALEJANDRO, IN FULL AND JOYFUL ACCEPTANCE OF THESE TERMS, TAKE CATHERINE TO BE YOUR WIFE, SUCH AS SHE IS AND PROVIDING SHE CONSENT IN LIKE MANNER?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I mean…” Nebby dear looked desperately at Catherine, who looked desperately back at him.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Disgusting,” asserted The Aunt.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">IF THIS HESITATION SHOULD INDICATE A RESERVATION, AS PERHAPS IT MUST, I URGE YOU…</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I do,” said Nebby dear, as a large purple bolt struck the support beam beside him.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">DO NOT INTERRUPT THE CLERIC</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">,” hissed The Aunt.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">YOU DO WHAT, SIR?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” asked the cleric.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Take Ca—”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Very good!” He shot off into the “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">WITH THESE THINGS IN MIND</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” speech again.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The conflict beside us was getting brighter and brighter and more focused. The agents beside us were growling and groaning. The odd bits of magic that almost struck us seemed more deadly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ENOUGH!”</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> screeched Filly. The very air seemed to be charged with that screech, and the agents were blasted backwards.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cleric adjusted his glasses. “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">…TAKE ALEJANDRO TO BE YOUR HUSBAND, SUCH AS HE IS AND WITH THE PROVISION OF YOUR FINAL CONSENT?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I do,” said Catherine.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cleric opened his eyes, spread his arms wide, and smiled. “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THEN I PRONOUNCE YOU SO UNITED. YOU MAY NOW PUBLICLY DISPLAY YOUR AFFECTION. JUST LET ME TURN AROUND SO I DON’T GET ALL SENTIMENTAL.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” He pulled out his handkerchief and started to turn.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You didn’t give me a chance to protest,” stammered The Aunt.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Madame,” said the cleric thickly, sniffing. “If you wished to delay the marriage, you should have closed me in a closet or clobbered me on the head. Would you do such deeds?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No,” said The Aunt, shocked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Then let the matter rest.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then Nebby dear and Catherine displayed their affection in a barbarically public and inordinately prolonged manner. I turned toward the battle, which I considered a much less shocking scene. The battle stopped for a moment as the agents cheered and clapped (most of them from their position’s on the ground). Filly and Denver, looking very tired, looked like they were laughing a bit. And just like that, blasts were going off again, and wildly. The agents that were still able to engage seemed to have a new ardor.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nebby dear and Catherine were not yet quite finished, and the cleric was sobbing almost as loudly as he talked. The Aunt was looking pointedly at the ceiling.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">PLEASE</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">,” said the Cleric finally. “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">PLEASE, I CAN’T BEAR IT.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” He fell to the ground.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At that moment, a pink blast zoomed straight toward Catherine. I started forward in a vain reaction, but The Aunt was there in a moment. It struck and destroyed her handbag, but it too was ended.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Idiots,” she said. “Get out of here.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nebby dear and Catherine finally stopped, and The Aunt shoved them toward the stairs.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Get out of here,” she said.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dear me, yes,” said the cleric. “I too must be gone.” He wiped his eyes and blew his nose excessively. “Good morning, everybody.” He stepped lightly behind Nebby dear and Catherine and followed them as they stepped happily up the stairs.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What?” asked The Aunt. “Get over here, boy. You’re a fine fellow. Leave this place at once. It’s a wonder you’re not killed. Go on. Be gone and safe.” She petted my shoulder with a bony hand and frowned at the battle.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">STOP!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” moaned Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SHORT RESPITE?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” suggested Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t hear any reply, but the blasts raged on. I can’t admit to being too impressed by our forces at Mango Bromhead. They were supposed to be </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">special agents</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Of course, maybe Filly and Denver were just that powerful. I decided then and there that life was much simpler when I didn’t know about magic.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You want him,” said The Aunt. “He’s the Claw.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I turned. The ghost was walking past her, coming straight at me. She seemed to be focused on me. Oh boy.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Neitersen Mestre?” Her voice seemed to ripple through every particle in the room and make waves in the very stuff of reality.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes…?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You are the Claw.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What does that mean?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The Claw derives its definition from circumstance and from character. Come.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I followed her. Nobody but The Aunt seemed to mark our movement. Indeed, the others seemed to fade away.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ghost took me to the stove.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you see?” she asked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, it looks like you’re cooking a lobster.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why do you see that?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Um…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why would I cook Anord? Who in their right mind would cook Anord?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, I mean, frankly, I don’t even think cooking a lobster—”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“So I am not cooking Anord because to cook him sanely is impossible, and I am sane.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s – that’s good – but…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But what, Neitersen Mestre?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He’s cooking now… or then, y’know, because, er, ghost.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He is not. You see before you a scene that is not happening in the present moment. It is a representation, but it means nothing to you. Anord is not cooked, Anord is not dead. Anord lives by you.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But… why?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The nature of Anord is chaotic. There is little order in him, and thus your orderly mind may be slow to understand his intricacies. Cats are far more likely to.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“They are?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That was partially a joke.” She shook her head briefly. “Here you see Anord boiling, but not in water – in magic. My magic? Perhaps, but what does that matter to Anord? On an island some distance away, you might see Anord destroying himself in a fit of stupidity, as his Claw fades away, for his reality has ended. On the sea, you might see a great storm and disturbance, where the mighty defy the strong, both in the name of Anord. The Claw walks in their boats. For a time, his vision is sure. Close at hand, you may see Anord himself, present and attended, while the Claw stands by with no vision at all, save that which his friends created. Maybe the Claw is you.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What?” I didn’t quite understand what she was trying to say.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Honestly,” said The Aunt.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Anord is chaos. He contests starlight and fire alike. But I am his order. I ground Anord to reality, and now I pass to you this idea of him.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“So, what does this </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">implicate</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">?” I asked.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“This I cannot answer. Maybe it means nothing. But to your friends, it may mean much.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Which friends?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Filly Swan – a spirit with a power of sorrow and greater than many of those here, something great apart from Anord; Denver Polaco – her kindred in that nature. Much more will come of them. Their influence lies beyond this world. But beware what they seek. Filly Swan has before put out her hand to Anord. Perhaps you can see it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Are they my friends? I mean, seriously, it looks kind of doubt…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do not worry about doubt.” The woman shook her head and smiled. “If they are your enemies, how much greater an enemy is Anord? Or I?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s not disturbing at all,” I said with just a touch of sarcasm. “When I looked on Anord in my, er, vision earlier, he was the very definition of evil.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Is that how you define him? Beware, Neitersen Mestre. Anord is not good. No more will I say. He is free again. How will you use him, or how will he use you? Or will you work in a different way. Remember Anord does have agency of his own.” She vanished. I was thrown back into reality, and I landed on my backside with a startling thud. The stove and pipe had vanished, but the hole glowed green.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A great arc of green light surged through the agents and right above my head. Many agents fell. There were only a few left standing – Marta was one of them. Filly and Denver were bruised, crackling with energetic lights, and Denver’s hair was quietly burning.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Give up, Lieutenant,” said Denver, brushing back his hair, extinguishing the fire and leaving it aesthetically damaged.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I should’ve called in backup,” said Marta. “You guys are good at this.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ha,” said Filly softly. Her right hand was clenched very tightly. It looked like there was a bit of blood on it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Look,” said Marta hesitantly. “I don’t think we can defeat you with these guns.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Obviously not,” affirmed Denver, taking deep breaths. “The gems in those guns are no match. Might as well leave us to business. Go and lick your wounds. This is an affront, honestly. Haven’t we been punished enough?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Maybe,” sighed Marta. “But you have been implicated for rather concerning crimes, such as those involving </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">death</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah, yes,” said Filly. “Well.” She looked at Denver, who looked a bit nervous. “It’s not exactly like that makes it sound.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Very good – if you come with us quietly, you can establish this in court and this can all be sorted out. Otherwise, we must assume you are a threat to Derkin.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, we are,” said Filly, a bit angrily, “but so are you. Perhaps the greatest threat in Derkin is him.” She pointed at me with her bloody hand.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hmm,” said Marta. “Nevertheless. Will you come with me? This is a chance for you to escape additional punishment, providing we can restore these good men and woman to health.” She gestured at the fallen agents.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“They should be all right,” muttered Filly. “Magic doesn’t like to destroy.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta cleared her throat. “Now, why should Neitersen be such a great threat?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He’s the Claw. He wields the power of Anord.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Right… so what exactly would you do if I let you go about your business?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not telling,” said Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You wouldn’t like it,” added Denver.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just like that, there was a man standing in the room with a red banana about his neck and redder fedora on his head, and he walked right into the middle of the scene. In his arms he held a great bundle of wrenches, and he had several tools in his belt.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I am the plumber!” he exclaimed helpfully.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Aunt shoved me toward him.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hallo, Mestre!” he said to the room in general. “So, just a routine job on these pipes, eh? Ooo. That’s a great hole there. That’s a hazard, that is. Some kind of monster might live down there. Could give a person the creeps. How do, Polaco and Swan?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everybody stared at him like they couldn’t believe what was happening to them.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He knelt down by the great hole.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hey,” said Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah?” He looked back up.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Are you really a plumber, or are you just another magician trying to get power from Anord?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The man scratched his head. “I’ve been accused of some things before, but that’s a pretty impressive accusation. Care explaining what it means?” He stood up and gave his bundle of wrenches to a confused Filly. “Could you hold that? Thanks. Hey, there’s a bunch of unconscious people on the floor. Are they okay?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Just fine,” said Marta. “I hope.” She was moving her head in a strange pattern as if she was trying to see the plumber from every possible angle.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s good. That’s great! Hey, young man, know anything about plumbing? Give us a hand.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Are you talking to me?” asked Denver.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No, you look exhausted.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> exhausted,” Filly stated indignantly. “I’m exhausted and you gave me a lot of stinking wrenches, which I will gladly throw on the floor.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No!” yelped the man. “Don’t!” He wiped his hands on his kerchief. “Okay, go ahead, but give the nice, red one to Neitersen.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Filly shook her head, grabbed the red one with her left hand and extended it. “Here, take it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I saw Marta look very tense in the corner of my vision, but I took the wrench.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Excellent,” said the plumber as Filly threw the rest of the wrenches to the floor deafeningly. “Now give us a hand.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stooped down to the hole.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Okay,” said Marta, sounding like somebody collecting their scattered thoughts. “Swan, Polaco. Are you finished?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No,” said Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh no!” said the plumber. “Now she’s going to draw her bullet-spraying pea-shooter, and how will you block that? Besides that, bullets are uneconomical with modern technology. Kind of dangerous. Kind of loud in the expulsion.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What if she does?” asked Denver tightly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah,” said Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m trying to think of other options,” Marta assured the collective assembly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s good,” said the plumber. He held out his hand. “Wrench.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I handed it too him. He fumbled around dramatically and dropped it straight into the hole. In a moment it had disappeared. I heard no sound below.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“My favorite wrench!” he exclaimed. “Neitersen, what are you going to do? Help! Help! My wrench.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And use your brains, boy,” snapped The Aunt. “I know you have them. You’re a good lad.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, listen to your ‘aunt.’” The plumber did air quotes.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I decided then and there that this whole situation was extremely confusing and comprehensively messed up, but suddenly I was having a flood of thoughts – hailing the despot of Bonvka (a ridiculous idea it seemed now), the wedding, the Claw – all independent of Anord and the beastly tube that left behind such a ghastly hole. Anord was evil. I didn’t know what he was, and thinking about what the ghost said, I decided I wouldn’t try to figure it out. I made some decisions: I was not the Claw. This situation was ridiculous. All there was to Anord in this house was that hole, and not even that needed to remain. Did not the pipe disappear?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And even as I thought it, so it was. I was not the claw. The situation, already ridiculous, was defined as such, grounding it and defying Anord. Anord was gone. The hole was gone. All of this nonsense was over.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On this last point, however, I was decidedly wrong. First, Filly fell to the floor, crying out in pain and glowing a radiant green. This passed swiftly, and she was left shivering. Second, I looked up to see my immediate family (and present extended family and new in-law) staring discreetly at the scene from the stairs. I noticed several unusually wide eyes. Thirdly (and this took a few seconds before it took place), there was a massive explosion of some visible green and blue force that ripped so swiftly through the air that I couldn’t comprehend it. I only saw that it struck the plumber who was standing in front of me and was repelled by several magical bubbles of light and that the walls were blasting outwards, and then I was falling into darkness and the basement floor.</span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Need a hand?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was lying amid timbers and varied rubbish, and I was on a thick layer of dust. The plumber was crouching before me, holding out his hand. His other hand was clamped tightly around a large sea green wrench, exactly the size and shape of the red one. It struck me as curious.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Where is everybody?” I asked groggily. “Is everybody okay?” I realized that I had on a large industrial mask, which was very nice because I didn’t like to think about all the building materials I would be breathing in.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do me a favor and look into it,” said the plumber happily. “I rescued everybody except you and other relevant parties, so rescue the rest: Miss Swan, Master Polaco, that ‘aunt’ of yours. Um, and Marta. That’s all except for Nebby. He’s doing really good. No sweat. Everyone’s safe and in good order. No permanent damage, one can hope. How’s that?” He pulled me through the debris separating us in a rather impossible manner, but I frankly didn’t care at that point.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Great,” he said. “Had to make sure you were in a good spot.” He winked. “Right?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Are you trying to allude to something specific?” I said less groggily.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He looked around and winked again. “You’re in a good spot now. Carry on. Door’s this way.” He slipped out of sight. I crawled after him but only discovered seemingly impassable debris.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Suddenly, the debris to my right was shifted in a sharp movement and there was The Aunt. Her face was wrapped in an enormous kerchief.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“When I was a girl,” she said immediately upon seeing me, “houses were built better. Look at this. Quality sacrificed for convenience; it’s absurd. Give an old lady a hand.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I gave her a hand, and she pulled me into a little space in which the structure of the fallen house was shaped into a little dome. Marta was there, blinking at her surroundings. She grinned when she saw me.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What a day, cousin!”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Agreed.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Did I hear voices?” bellowed Nebby dear close by.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It’s Nebby dear!” I exclaimed impulsively and rather stupidly. I immediately turned red.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Marta stared and then burst out laughing, laughing far more than the situation warranted, I thought.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Aunt stared and then ventured, “That’s an odd sort of name for a fellow like you to use for a fellow like him. My sarcastic gratitude I must extend because now I will forevermore think of him as Nebby dear. Which is more offensive than Alejandro.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What’s so offensive about Alejandro?” Marta demanded.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nothing,” said The Aunt after a beat. “I will make a path out.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The plumber said the door’s that way,” I said, pointing.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I think you need to work on your sense of direction,” said The Aunt. She frowned. “But you’re not a bad fellow. I have to remind myself of that.” She began shifting rubble in the direction I had pointed. It was very slow work. I wondered if we would ever get out.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Getting to Nebby dear – or Alejandro – was a relatively easy task. I pushed on rubble, Marta pulled on rubble, Marta gave rubble a solid kick, and we were through. Nebby dear – Alejandro – was sitting there, snugly situated (though rather stuck) in a mass of wooden beams next to the refrigerator, furrowing his eyebrows and drinking milk. To my surprise, Filly was also there, trapped on her back beneath the bulk of the debris. There was a sort of bubble around her, which glowed an intense white and seemed to hold things up. She sighed wearily as we entered.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Aljenadro called out nonverbally before raising his glass and saying, “Don’t want it to go to waste. Miss Swan doesn’t like milk. Amazing thought to me.” Alejandro poured another glass. A cupboard full of glasses also was next to him. “Want a yogurt?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No, thanks,” said Marta. “That’s luck right there, ending up next to a refrigerator.” She looked at Filly. “And that is not so much luck.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It isn’t, no,” said Filly. “Thanks very much, Neitersen, for banishing Anord. Look how paltry my powers are now.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, come on,” I said, feeling rather bad about whatever I had done, “the ghost said that you were great independently from Anord or something like that.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, maybe,” said Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let’s see,” said Marta, looking at the debris carefully. “This is tricky.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’ve noticed.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Can you teleport?” I asked on sudden inspiration.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes, as a matter of fact, I can. But not while I’m underneath a stinking great house. Concentration can only go so many ways. In fact, less talk, more action. I don’t know where Denver is.” She glared at us.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Want a yogurt?” asked Alejandro.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes,” said Filly, “I do actually want a yogurt. Unfortunately, I’m underneath a stinking great house.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Filly!” called Denver’s voice urgently. “You there?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes, I am here,” returned Filly, “but I’m underneath a stinking great house.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Okay. I think I’ve broken my leg. Every bit of me is squashed. I’m hoping I’m not dead.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, forget it,” said Filly. “Stand back. I’m going to yell very loudly.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We stood back. Filly yelled very loudly, and as she yelled, the debris shifted slowly, moving upward and to the sides, fitting into other bits of fallen house and locking into place. Filly was no longer yelling. Instead, she was went limp and seemingly unconscious. A blue mist of light rose up around her, digging into the rubble. The bubble flickered and died. Marta dived forward and pulled her out just as items began to severally fall down again. Along with these items fell Denver, severally spewing forth strongly worded exclamations and cries of pains.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We all winced. Filly rose from the ground and stumbled over to him. “You’re alive, I hope.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Denver didn’t move, but swallowed noisily. I noticed that he also had a mask on. “Just. Don’t worry about moving me. My neck is not broken.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Great. Shall we all have some yogurt before we go up?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We all had some yogurt (except Denver, who doubted that he could swallow). The yogurt was surprisingly fortifying. Nebby – Alejandro – looked sadly at the rest of the refrigerator contents, but steeled his face in resolve, and we all went over to extract Denver, waiting briefly as Filly and then Marta both checked to see if his neck or spine were in tact. Filly said that he would live; Marta said that he as in very good shape.</span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Except for the very trying task of maneuvering Denver, the process of navigating through The Aunt’s industry standard tunnel (somehow even equipped with periodic nightlights) served beautifully to get us straight to the door, which opened to reveal just exactly what it used to open up to, only with a bit of roof embedded in the yard.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mom, Dad, Catherine, the six aunts, the grandparents, and Uncle Alabaster were all standing there. The special agents of Base Mango Bromhead and the brutish fellow were sleeping peacefully on the grass. As we emerged, another group of people was coming forward, yelling things like “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ALEJANDRO, WHAT HAPPENED?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” and “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ALEJANDRO, ARE YOU MARRIED YET?”</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SORRY WE MISSED THE WEDDING</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.” This group, as perhaps was evident, turned out to be his family. They had many questions about the sort of family he had married into, glancing with frequency and doubt at the wreckage in the background.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Soon general interest turned to Filly (who was standing shakily with traces of blue fluttering around her) and Denver (who was standing on one leg and leaning heavily on Filly).</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Several people made vague offers of help, and many from Alejandro’s family offered to check if there was anything broken. Two of them, ignoring Denver’s protestations, inspected him rigorously and declared that he had only sprained his ankle. Denver looked not a little hurt by the insinuation.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course, more interest was generated in them once the general topic of discussion turned to their arrest (a topic introduced by Marta).</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Look,” said Filly, “can we just go? Our crimes – if you want to call them that – are not as bad as they sound and sometimes aren’t even exactly connected to us. They have to be taken in context.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Furthermore,” said Denver, “we’re leaving. We’re going out of Derkin.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hmm,” said Marta. She didn’t sound impressed.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The relatives began shouting their uninformed verdicts on the case. It was an amazing sound. Fortunately, at that moment, the ghost turned up.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ooh, look,” said one of Nebby – Alejandro’s – younger relatives. “It’s a ghost.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Uncle Alabaster agreed loudly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ghost was interested solely in Marta. “Let them go.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It’s not my choice,” said Marta. “It’s the law.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You’re not law enforcement,” Uncle Alabaster pointed out. “You’re a special agent.” He said this very loudly and with great pride.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Anyway, don’t forget their diplomatic immunity,” said The Aunt.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do we have any?” asked Denver.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don’t know. Can you turn into birds?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I expected Filly would respond </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">yes</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> because it would be so cool and stylish to be able to turn into a great black raven.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes,” Denver said, “ravens.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well,” said The Aunt, “since Brina here—”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Who?” asked several people.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The ghost,” said The Aunt. “I am shocked by the lot of you. Briana has given her directions, these two are from a whole other place, and the law specifically says that the state cannot try or convict a bird. So if you two became ravens…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Really?” asked Marta. “That needs to be fixed. But I don’t think it would work like that anyway.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Agreed,” said Brina the ghost.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Aunt glared. “It’s a conspiracy, a coup! Oh well, I’ll have to show my rank.” In a swift movement, she pulled off a wig and her outer garments. She then wiped off quite a lot of makeup.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Um,” said Marta, “you’re the prime minister.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I am,” said The Aunt. “Don’t worry about it. Just know that I grant my official pardon; I will write up an order later. The police have concluded that these two have not directly and willingly committed any unduly concerning crime.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No one told me,” said Marta.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Or me,” said Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Denver looked relieved. “I was beginning to wonder if that certain—” He shut his mouth as Filly frowned at him.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The prime minsister cleared her throat. “Call my office if you ever you doubt that I’m actually the minister. And don’t tell anyone that I’m magical.” She vanished.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SHE’S THE PRIME MINISTER?!</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” shouted just about everybody at once. That one sentence was the beginning and end of the discussion because it was too confusing to get into.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“She had a disturbing personality,” said Catherine.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Agreed,” said Mom. Everybody else nodded their silent assent.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Maybe,” suggested Uncle Alabaster as if he was about to say something patently obvious, “just maybe it was all an act.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And we are pardoned!” Denver exclaimed. “And, maybe – possibly free from him at last?” He looked at Filly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She frowned. “Could be. Shall we be off, then?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Denver gritted his teeth and morphed before our very eyes, clothes and all, into a large black raven. It fluttered weakly at first but was soon steadily climbing into the sky.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well,” said Filly, “goodbye. Sorry about – all this. If I had money, I might chip in to help rebuild the house, as I feel marginally responsible.” She stepped backward and changed into a bird much faster than Denver had. With several large flaps she caught up with him and they soared off with haste into the distance.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After that, all went as might be expected. Marta mentioned that Mom and Dad would be entitled to reimbursement as Mango Bromhead was committed to civilian safety from magical entities (Anord, in this case) and they had failed to protect the house. All the relatives demanded to help rebuild the house and most of them offered us temporary houseroom. Uncle Alabaster mentioned lightly that he still considered himself a remarkable carpenter. He also pointed out that half of the house was still standing. Thanks to the relatives was profuse. When it finally slowed down, plans were made for going to Aunt Vienna’s house to get cleaned up and eat a bite of cake.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From that moment forward, I kind of enjoyed life. I summarily ceased my education in law, and I soon joined up with Mango Bromhead, though I stressed it was not to be as an agent but as a researcher. After a few months of processing, I had realized that I was very interested in magic, so I thought it would be an ideal job. It was, and it is. My activities in it are highly classified, so I can’t say more.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The house was rebuilt. It is now ridiculously luxurious. Mom and Dad, the grandparents, and usually one or two of the aunts all live in it. Alejandro – whom I have called </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nebby dear</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> often in this narrative to reflect my thought processes at the time – and Catherine are still, as far as I know, rather fond of each other. I don’t really know what they’re doing with themselves. They seem to change jobs and residences every couple of weeks. They’re going to be having their fourth or fifth child soon. Maybe it’s fourth and fifth. I hear a rumor that this means they will be settling down somewhere. I also have heard a rumor that Alejandro’s family chases them everywhere, but I’m not sure what that means in practice.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 32.4pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Liberation Serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I return to my studies. I have discovered a lot, and I’m really eager to learn more – it’s an interesting thought – a thrilling thought, with what I know now – that I was, for at least an hour or two, the Claw of Anord.</span></p><p><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></p>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-59304076119950584792020-11-02T01:11:00.003-05:002020-11-04T06:27:34.256-05:00Haunted House Challenge: "Thrash Ghost" -- by Benjamin Leskey<p class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: "Liberation Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;">Thrash Ghost<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost knows no future. The ghost is severed from the past. The ghost knows only two things: the final imprint before its birth, and the memory-less present.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost felt the right Ur blade pull out of his heart and saw his body fall away beneath him. The ornate white sword, once white as the purest moon, dripped red in the hand of the murderer as they stood in the graying dusk under the great glass dome of the mansion.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Linger here,” said the murderer behind the horned mask of a ram. “Regret making an enemy of me. You are nothing. You will haunt this place forever, powerless. Thrash, ghost, against the inexorable meaninglessness of your sub-conscious existence.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The murderer sheathed the bloody weapon, and the ghost stopped making memories, left with only the terribly hazed impression of what exists in his eternal haunt.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">Years pass.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">A door in the mansion opens and the woman enters, followed by a girl and a boy, both carrying trunks. The woman carries no ordinary trunk, but rather a trombone case embossed in red with the name <i>Ellen Carrier</i>, along with her walking cane.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost stands near. The boy swings his arm through the ghost and draws it back with a shiver.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“It is very dusty,” says the girl. “How long has it been since people lived here?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost can only regard this statement for an instant, then it leaves him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Six years,” says the woman. “The previous occupant was murdered.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost hears mention of himself, and reaches forward, but at the speed of thought the idea is gone and he knows no more of it than he does of the one who spoke it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Ooh, you didn’t mention that before we came here,” the boy says. “Think we’ll be murdered too? Or maybe it’s haunted!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Yes!” screams the ghost as this idea finds him momentarily, then vanishes. He again notices three people with trunks and follows them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The woman glares down at the boy. “Do not be absurd, Roland. I have read the stars, and you are both perfectly safe. As for haunted, do you see any ghosts?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost strikes the wall in frustration. A little dust falls, but any noise is drowned by the creak of walking feet on boards. In the next moment, he does not know why he feels so frustrated.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Well, no,” says the boy, looking somewhat disappointed. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t there!” the woman frowns at him. He pauses and grins sheepishly. “Sorry, Madam Carrier, you’re right.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The girl throws back her heard to look above. “What a wonderful dome!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost writhes; he knows this glass dome. He stumbles away from the place he died.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“It is very wonderful,” says the woman. “Tell me, children, what are we here for?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“To be tested!” cries the boy.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Be specific,” the woman says. “Let me know exactly what you have deduced. Observe your surroundings.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The girl still stares up at the glass dome. “This is an observatory. We are here for an astrological test, at least.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The woman nods. “Carefully said, Nora; that was an acceptable answer at this time.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy shakes his head. “I was technically right.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">Air whistles as the woman’s cane comes skillfully cracking down on the boy’s shoulder. “Do not defy me, child. Let me establish: you are both under my power here. I am training you as a favor to the Lugals under their parameters. I did not choose this specific location for what I must do, but it is necessary to continue your initiation here and you must obey me absolutely while we are in this place. Do you understand me, Roland?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Yes, Madam Carrier,” says the boy, wincing and grasping his shoulder.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Excellent. Now, settle yourselves. We will meet under this dome tonight, once the evening star is visible.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The children depart, leaving the woman and the ghost alone. The ghost twists and contorts, and in his throes knocks a dusty old vase off a nearby table to the ground with a crash. The woman stares at it for a long moment, then sits slowly in one of the observation chairs, pulling her trombone case closer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“HEAR ME!” the ghost screams into the woman’s face. She looks through him to the sky above and quietly hums a venerable lilt. The ghost knows the tune, but can not remember what comes before each note and so the music falls over him as a constant string of single sounds and dispersed anticipation: it is torture. He flinches at each tone and by scores of individual flinches and puppet-like jerks stumbles out of the wide room and into a passage where he shrieks and rolls in the darkness hidden from any light.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">Later the children come back into the room, and the ghost emerges under the glass-covered sky. The woman looks and smiles as the girl comes in with the boy following.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“This,” says the woman, rising tall from her chair, “Is an initiation. Look well, children. Read the ageless stars; see what has been laid bare in the beginning for you to understand now. Tell me what you see. Tell the unfettered truth, for what you read will be the truth; there is no forgiveness for those who work fraud when relaying such a terrible and mighty truth.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Okay,” says the boy. “I’ll really try.” He strides up to under the glass dome and stares at the stars.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Read well, my child,” says the woman as the girl passes her. The girl hesitates as she stands under the dome, but the light of curiosity in her eyes pulls up to meet the most ancient traveler, a million beams of the light from on high.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost stumbles onto the pale shining floor with them, and he looks up into a sky he once knew. This is barred from him now: though the signs are as clear as they ever were, he cannot interpret them before they are gone again, mere meaningless patterns.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“I see something!” cries the boy. “I see the sign of my own—er—ascension? Or maybe it’s bravery. Or initiation, I guess it could be.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Give me <i>one</i> answer, Roland,” says the woman. She steps gracefully over the floor to the girl, who frowns as the boy continues to read further. “Tell me what you see, Nora.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The girl delays, staring upward.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Nora?” says the woman. “What do you see?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“I see the… the…” the girl begins, but stops. “No, I don’t read anything, yet.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Keep trying,” says the woman. She looks straight at the ghost and almost focuses on him, but he is ephemeral. He stumbles colliding into a chair, and it scrapes across the ground under the force of his unconscious will.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“What’s that?” The girl turns from the sky to the chair.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The woman only commands, “Focus,” but the girl cannot.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“I read violent uncertain initiation ending in ascension,” says the boy at length, unperturbed by the unnatural chair. “That is the best way to describe it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“That is sufficient,” says the woman. “You may retire.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy departs and the ghost follows him aimlessly, leaving the woman and girl alone.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Time for sleep,” says the boy to the air, sinking down into his bed. He slips from the realm of wakeful reality to the realm of dream that borders spirit. The ghost sees it all, and latches on as a twisted jockey pinned to the back of the dream-horse. The boy falls through the darkness into the one scene the ghost remembers, the one terrible crescendo ending his story. The ghost shows him the murder.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">And, living within the dream of the boy, leeching off his memory and thought, the ghost speaks to him. “Witness this. Look at the blade! This is my end!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Yep,” says the boy, watching impassively as only a dreamer or psychopath can.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The dream ends when the boy’s body wrenches his mind away from the world of dreams, and the ghost spirals wailing through the wall into the starlight room.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“There is another way,” says the woman to the girl. The girl has not read the stars, and they shine frowning upon her failure. “I myself was not initiated through the stellar method. There is also the path of the spirit.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“But I don’t understand,” says the girl. “Why can’t I do it? Why is Roland better than me?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“You must not let him be better than you. Do not accept your failure, Nora. The Lugals do not look kindly upon self-deprecation.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Madam Carrier, what shall I do then? Can I change my path and try again later?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">Now the woman looks sorrowful, for a moment. “No. I will tell you a secret, Nora: only one of you children are allowed to pass this initiation. The other is cast out of our number forever.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Only one!?” cries the girl, then she hushes herself and glances toward the door leading to the boy’s room. “I can’t do it, Madam Carrier!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Yes you can, girl. Listen to me. Your performance today has confirmed it: you are worthless at astrological observation. It will take years of training to reach an acceptable level.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Oh.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“As your instructor, I want you to succeed. I will show you how to walk the path of the spirit. It will require nerves, and searing of conscience, and focused hate.” The woman lifts her trombone case and opens it. The ghost howls with immortal fear at the sight of what is inside and the house rings with his cry as he vanishes into the darkness.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">Another evening comes, and the boy and girl meet once more under the dome under the stars under the watchful eye of the woman, who sits nearby on her trombone case. The ghost crawls and stumbles around the perimeter of the room, and walks lost through their midst. His footsteps sometimes resound quietly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The children look into the stars. The girl sees nothing but distant white light. The boy sees a distant star that died a million years away and its last flame touches him. It is an omen of monumental significance. He reads the flame of his own life flickering out at the hands of another.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy sees clearly three truths beneath the stretching starlight: the lie of the woman, the astral fear, and the mad ghost towering over him, a weeping specter.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Roland?” asks the woman, “What do you see?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“UM!” the boy bellows, quite overwhelmed. “UH!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The woman studies him closely. “If you cannot express yourself,” she says, “You may leave us.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy makes his way silently back to his room.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“What did he see?” asks the girl, watching him leave.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The woman smiles, even as the ghost stands cold over her. “He saw what you must do. Worry not, my child, he does not know it is you yet. The stars were not specific.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“I’m not worried,” says the girl, but she shivers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">In the night the ghost stretches and warps among all three dreamers, seizing and clinging on their passage into the nocturnal realm. To the boy, the ghost appears as a begging form, begging for only one touch of the deadly white blade from the ancient city of the moon and endlessly recounting the story of his death. To the girl, the ghost hisses and splutters in the rising darkness. To the woman, the ghost comes in the form a crawling wretch, incapable of words.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The girl wakes first, and finds the ghost standing beside her bed with the nearly-full moon shining through his absent stare. But the sun comes over the horizon as she screams, and the ghost falls away under the cleansing light.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">When the three living ones meet that evening, the girl relates her story of the ghost.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Ignore the apparition,” says the woman. “It is of little consequence to one such as yourself.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“But it seemed to require something from me,” the girl says. “And it was such a terrible dream. What does it want? How can I stop it?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“It is mindless. I will give you something to prevent it from clouding your own mind.” The woman opens her trombone case. Inside are two horned ram masks painted as if to bleed, and a long ornate pure white blade. She takes one mask and gives it to the girl. “Take this for tonight, a ghost cannot remain near such a visage. You will not need it long. Tomorrow will be our last day here.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Can I get a mask?” asks the boy.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“No. Leave us, Roland, you have already proved your worth.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy retires, but the woman tells the girl what must occur at dusk the following day.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">In his room, the boy stares at the wall and whispers to the air, “I’m going to be murdered just like you.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“YES!” cries the ghost, cowering in the corner. The moon shines in his dreadful body, and the boy starts as he sees and hears him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“What must I do, spirit!?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">But the ghost does not understand, for he cannot know what has been said before. “Help me!” he cries, and wanders horribly away again into the darkness.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy does not sleep, nor does he weep, but he keeps silent watch over himself through the night. Evening comes, and he rises from his stupor and comes out to the domed room where full moonlight pours down from above. The girl and the woman are wearing horned masks.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Yep,” says the boy, and runs out of the room.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The woman commands, “Return to my presence,” and the boy must obey. The woman clicks open her trombone case and takes the white sword, the right Ur blade, and gives it to the girl. It is heavy in her hand, and she flinches at the weight. “Now, Nora. Do it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The girl walks forward and raises the pale blade. She lunges, but stops with the blade just before the boy. She shakes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Nora!” the woman says sharply, “Commit.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">But the boy punches the girl in the mask, and it splits down the middle. The girl trips and drops the blade. “Spirit!” the boy cries, “Where are you!?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost steps into the moonlight, and walks past them to stand in the center of the room, staring blankly upward, floating slowly away from the woman’s intact mask.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy seizes the blade and charges at the woman. She laughs behind her ram’s head and reaches deftly to grab the weapon from him, but he suddenly changes course and does not strike with the blade but throws it at the ghost while ramming his face into the woman’s mask. The mask shatters and the blade pierces the spectral flesh of the ghost.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost remembers. The blade falls through his chest into his hand, and he grips it. His hand grows white as the moonlight as he turns with understanding in his eyes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The woman throws the boy to the floor, where he lies still. She backs away from the ghost as he steps forward, the blade flashing lightly at his side.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Ellen Carrier,” snarls the ghost, “You are the author of an evil fate. Woe unto you.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“You can’t hurt me,” she says, seizing her walking cane in one hand and holding the shattered mask to her face with the other. “You are nothing. You are dead!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Ellen Carrier,” declares the ghost, “I am your judgment. Woe unto you, murderer.” The right Ur blade flickers in his hand, and a smile grows on his glowing mouth.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Don’t!” she shouts, standing directly under the dome, the moonlight pouring down upon her anger and hate.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“I am not a killer like you, Ellen,” whispers the ghost. “May the Lugals declare your fate.” He draws himself up, sneers, and spite drips from his decrepit frame. He takes the right Ur blade in both hands and snaps it with a vile strength, shattering that cold relic of the ancient world.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">Ellen Carrier stares numbly at the fallen pieces of the priceless weapon, bestowed on her by unbreakable trust now broken.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The ghost turns to the rising boy. “Child, you have delivered many spirits from the chains of Ur. There is no reward for you. Flee from the Lugals, flee from this place. I cannot help you.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“You’re welcome,” says the boy. “I suppose you’ll be on your way now?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">For the first time in six years, the ghost is happy. The light is no longer a curse but a blessing. He looks at the broken hilt of the right Ur blade in his hand. “When I drop this, I will leave forever,” he says. “Before I go, tell me your name.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Roland Fern.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“I will make mention of you in the great halls.” The ghost lets the shard fall from his hand, and it clatters against the ground. “You are worthy.” He is gone, striding tall and focused into the light that surrounds them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Roland,” the girl whispers. “Roland, forgive me. ”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Sure,” Roland says. “I know you didn’t mean it, Nora. Here, get up. I’ll let you come with me when we escape.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">“Escape?” Ellen Carrier laughs with a crack. “You cannot escape. You are too far in, and the blade was broken. You will be punished with me, as faithless traitors! You are our downfalls.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.1in; text-indent: 0.3in;">The boy bends and grabs the broken white hilt of the right Ur blade. “I have gone on the stellar path this evening,” he says, and surveys the shattered fragments of masks and metal. “And all has been in my favor, except a damaged nose.” He raises the hilt, and it still catches the moonlight. “I will force them to accept me, for they will see what I am worth, even if you do not. I also shall walk the path of the spirit tonight.”<o:p></o:p></p>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-1444813359296480872020-11-02T01:10:00.004-05:002020-11-03T22:23:18.500-05:00Haunted House Challenge: "Dear Future...Or Is It Past?" -- by Eve Nightingale <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Note From Hazel: Sorry this went up so late, I didn't get a chance to post it until now.</i></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 20pt;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 20pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JNBH0xSGXsM/X5-iigPf42I/AAAAAAAADeI/GG8UcFAY5ZUFe7vemGwnO1JCDImwaYv1ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Ghost2-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JNBH0xSGXsM/X5-iigPf42I/AAAAAAAADeI/GG8UcFAY5ZUFe7vemGwnO1JCDImwaYv1ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Ghost2-2.jpg" /></a></div><br />Dear Future. . . Or Is It Past?<o:p></o:p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13pt;">by Eve Nightingale<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 15pt;">July 27, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 15pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> They have not yet returned, Past. Three days and they have not returned. I have stayed here, as promised, and looked after our animals, as promised, but I have not been able to find it in me to eat any more. At least I did not promise that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I am so tired, Past. So very tired. I passed out earlier today and woke in quite a panic. Harry, that rather odd pig, woke me by poking me with his snout. I don’t know how long I was laying there till he did. I know it must be because I haven’t eaten but my mind simply won’t let me eat.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> It’s such a strange thing, having one’s mind not allow you to eat. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I wish Mommy and Papa would come home. I miss them dearly. The town has been so quiet since Mommy hurried to the mine. I wish they would come home. . . <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Yours till the end.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Your Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">July 28, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Somehow I ended up in the basement. I have not a clue how but I am just pleased that I am feeling much better. I have not checked upstairs quite yet so I do not know if Mommy and Papa are home. I have heard someone upstairs so I hope they are!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I had such peculiar dreams, Future. Such peculiar dreams. I dreamed a family lived here. Two families, actually. The first one was quiet like mine but the son remained here. Then another family came and were quite noisy. Both families added to this house and there were some wonderful additions and some additions were of terrible taste. I plan to tell Mommy and Papa about them. We’ve already added a bathroom and kitchen so why not continue improving this house? With taste, of course.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I think I will go get some food now. I will write again today if Mommy and Papa return!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Sincerely your past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">July 28, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Afternoon<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> You will not believe me! I can’t believe myself but, Future, this house is haunted! I believe that is why my rest was so troubled. That family I wrote about earlier, the noisy one, are upstairs! Thankfully, they didn’t see me. I have retreated to the basement and am trying to find a way to get them to leave.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> The house looks different too. They’ve ruined it. They’ve painted it such ghastly, un-naturelike colors—it’s horrid! They have these devices that make so much noise and they argue over them!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I must end the entry here. I have to find a way to get them to leave! This my house! The house where the Dorans live! Not whatever ghosts or demons they are. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Frightened but forever your past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">July 29, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> They are very good at ignoring despite what their behaviors suggest. I have tried all day to get them to leave but they ignore me. How incredibly rude. Not only do they invade my house, make it look ghastly, but they ignore me! Just wait till Papa comes home. He will not be happy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> School will be starting soon but I doubt I can go. I must rid this house of these ghosts before I can even think about learning. I just have to find a weakness of theirs. I have noticed that they disappe-ar from time to time, some more than others. The children disappear the most but then the entire family disappears at night. Perhaps if I could find a way to go with them or find where they disappear to, I can find out a weakness. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> This is all ratty. Why can’t ghosts dislike garlic like vampires? I would cover the house in garlic and be done with it. Well, then there’s the problem of the multitude of garlic. . .<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Your Past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">August 2, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I have tried for the past three days to follow where the ghosts disappear to to no avail. I haven’t the slightest clue where they go. I would assume it was that they can only thrive during the day but the fact the children, and sometimes the parents, disappear during the day crosses that out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> They are such a strange family with such strange things. They seem to hate the quiet. There is always something making noise. They use something that allows people to talk and move even though they are not there. I’m starting to think their belongings are being possessed. Ha! I’m being haunted by ghosts who are haunted by ghosts!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> These strange possessed items come in several different shapes and sizes and make all sorts of noises. One of the noises I think is supposed to be music but they haven’t a lick of taste. None whatsoever. No wonder they are haunting me. They weren’t satisfied with their terrible tastes and nonsensical possessed items that they can’t rest in peace!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Oh, how could I forget! Ghosts haunt when they are not at peace, right Future? I must find why they are not resting and fix it. Maybe I should break those devices. For my sake rather then theirs. They give me such a headache.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Your annoyed past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">August 3, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> It failed. Terribly. I’m not sure what I had expected. If they are ghosts with belongings, I shouldn’t be able to touch them and yet I still thought I could break their devices. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Everything I tried to use to break them just ended up going through them during the rare times that I found something I could hold. Now I am cursed with head-splitting headaches until they leave. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> They are fond of walking through walls and I haven’t an inkling why. I guess that if I could walk through walls, I would quite often, but watching them walk through walls and not return for hours is so confusing. They often walk through the west wall at the south side of the house and don’t return for hours. The eldest child does that often, like her father.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Every night they disappear through the east wall at the northern part of the house. Why? I haven’t the slightest clue but I am trying very hard to find out. I will try to follow them tonight but I have a feeling it won’t work.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Sincerely your past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">August 3, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Night<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I can not follow them, Future. I tried walking through the wall like them but it will not work. I wish I could have heard the ending of their conversation. They mentioned something about a church in the next town over<i>. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I have a sudden desire to go there. There is a very nice cemetery there. My friend is buried there and I often like to visit her when I am as confused and lost as I am now. I know it is silly to talk to the dead. They can not talk back after all. <o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Perhaps this family is buried there! I have heard their names often enough—they argue and blame each other often enough—that I am sure I could find them and see why they are so unhappy! I shall go tomorrow! No! Tomorrow night would be even better, when the ghosts are all gone!<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Your excited and clever past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">August 4, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Tonight I go to the cemetery! I thought about asking my friend Will to come but he’d just call me a coward. The heel. So I will venture alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I used to be scared of graveyards, long ago, Future. They scared me so much and I didn’t quite know why. I just knew they did. Then my friend Lilly told me a story about them. It’s a personal story so I won’t inscribe it here but it was a very sweet and sad story. Ever since then, I haven’t been scared. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I have my oil lamp all prepared and ready. I still fall asleep by it every night.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I have tried looking all over for my coat but have not found it. Rather annoying but I should be fine in the dark. August nights are not normally that cold.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I shall write either after I return or early in the morning if excitement does not override my sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Your thrilling past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">August 5, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Early Hours of the Morning<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I am shaking with fear, Past. I do not know what to do but I know I must see where these ghosts go.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I went to the cemetery. I went to the cemetery to find their graves. But I didn’t find their graves, Past. I didn’t find them! I found Bethany’s grave but not this family's. Instead I. . . I found. . . OH! I can not say, Past! I refuse to write it! I refuse! I am going to find where the ghosts go and end this nightmare once and for all! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I refuse to say!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Your terrified future,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">August 12, 1911<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Future or Past,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Please forgive the lateness of this entry. I could not bring myself to write this but I fear I can not wait any longer.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I found where they all go at night, Future or Past, whichever it is now. I found where they all go. They go <i>upstairs</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> My home does not have an upstairs but theirs do or mine does now, whichever it is. My home never had an upstairs but I followed them up stairs to a new floor where they sleep. They have their own rooms, some have two, and sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> It felt so wrong being there. So wrong. As if I didn’t belong. I mustered up my anger that I like to call courage and marched up to the man of the house to try to wake him when I caught something in the mirror. Looking over, I jumped back. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Where I was supposed to be, I wasn’t. There was nothing there. No light, no shadow, no person. It was as if I didn’t exist.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I ran from the room and ran back to the graveyard. I forgot to take my lamp but I didn’t need it. These lights along the road appeared on top tall posts but I did not truly notice them until on my way back. </span><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I needed to see if I remembered correctly of what I found and to my horror I did. I remember it, Past or Future. I remembered it clearly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> They have no graves. But Mommy does. And Papa. They never came home. . . Their deaths were the day the mineshaft collapsed. I guess Mommy tried to save Papa only to be crushed herself. They never came home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> But you know what I saw between them? Another grave. This time it had my name on it. My name, my birthday, and <i>my death date. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> I feel myself slipping away now. I know I was not being haunted but the one doing the haunting. I feel so alone. . . so cold. . . but I can hear them. I hear Mommy crying softly with both peace and joy and Papa calling me to them. They didn’t come back to me but rather went on . . . went to their true home. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> What I don’t understand is why I didn’t go then? Why, when I fell asleep so tiredly and hungrily to a sleep of which I would never awake, didn’t I leave home?! Perhaps I couldn’t accept my fate. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> It pains me to leave this home but, despite how noisy and troublesome this new family is, I know they will care for it. The eldest doesn’t want to let this place go. That brings me comfort. Someone else loves this home too and she will be with her family.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Mommy and Papa have grown louder so it is my time to go. . . Goodbye, Me. Goodbye, house. Goodbye world. Goodbye.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Sincerely,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> Lola Doran<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> With a dull thud, the diary landed on the floor of the one and a half story house. It laid in a hallway to the eldest’s bedroom. It just so happens that that eldest daughter was running her way up the stairs. <i>What is the wretched point?! If they want me to stay, why don’t they teach properly! </i>In her angry daze, she did not notice the diary until she tripped over it. She normally had very good balance but when it came to being shocked back to reality, her body forgot all sense of balance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> She stumbled to stay upright, running into the chair in the hall as she scowled as to not cuss. Once she stood straight, rubbing her hip, she turned and saw the old, leather bound book on the floor. She paused. <i>Not mine. . . maybe parents’. </i>She bent over and picked it up carefully, noticing how cold the leather was. She didn’t think the air got <i>that</i>cold that close to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> She carefully opened it, always scared that she would hurt an old book, and looked at the very first entry back in 1904. She mouthed the words of the short entry before reading the signature. Her mother was walking up the stairs to check on her, that class had been rather dispiriting after all, so the daughter called out: “Hey Mom?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> “Yes sweetie?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> “Do we know a Lola Doran?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-7527965492444325092020-11-02T01:06:00.004-05:002020-11-02T01:06:39.876-05:00Haunted House Challenge: "A Day of Chaos" -- by Anne Leskey<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-60TrXgBXvkc/X5-hxipNonI/AAAAAAAADeA/BQLOUOO2vyMetiLejPefvxDjZPxVJmu-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/A%2Bday%2BOf%2BChaos.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1583" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-60TrXgBXvkc/X5-hxipNonI/AAAAAAAADeA/BQLOUOO2vyMetiLejPefvxDjZPxVJmu-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/A%2Bday%2BOf%2BChaos.png" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: "Liberation Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light"; font-weight: normal;">A Day Of Chaos</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Haaaappy birthdaaaay to me!” sang Ermine, coming in from the garage. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">It was not her birthday, it was not even close to her birthday, but that was Ermine’s favorite song and she sang it all the time. As in, all the time. She hummed it in the bathroom, she caroled it when she had to clean out the chicken coop, and she belted it out when Dad was trying to take forty winks on the sofa. Besides this, there were a number of times when it seemed to spontaneously burst out of her. And sometimes she changed the words. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“If it was my birthday, I’d ask for a bike, ‘cause my wheel burst, and I’ve got to hike,” she sung to the tune, somehow. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“What did you just do?” asked Velvet, coming out of the pantry with an alarmed voice on her face as she heard the particular words that Ermine was producing.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">We were well used to finding out important news through Ermine’s songs; she often did that rather then speak, but generally when carrying on a conversation she talked like a fairly normal human being. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Oh, my bike wheel ran over a really sharp ridge of rocks, and it tore the tire. I wrecked, of course,” Ermine said in a vaguely proud voice, “I put it back in the garage, and Dad will just think he’s neglected its maintenance. Oh, by the way, there’s a ghost in the garage, Shamrock.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">I tried to feign interest, but really, how could when I was cutting up a particularly pungent onion that sent the tears to my smarting eyes? And besides, I didn’t believe her. Ermine was always seeing ghosts. Every breath of wind showed her a different one. She had notebook after notebook filled with harrowing stories of how exactly they became ghosts. It was all nonsense of course, but I must admit I didn’t like being in the dark after reading one of her tales. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Don’t be silly, Min,” said Velvet sharply. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">She thought her duty to correct her wayward siblings when Mom and Dad were away. She was the oldest at eighteen, and had the sort of motherly disposition which makes for a very good but somewhat bossy older sister. Me, I was rather amused by Ermine’s matter-of-fact diversions from the truth. She didn’t mean any harm by them, and that was what made lies bad, in my opinion at least. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“But I’m not being silly,” objected Ermine indignantly, “There’s a ghost in our garage, and I don’t care if you believe me or not.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">I gently smacked my forehead against the cupboard door, realizing that there was going to be another sisterly spat between Ermine and Velvet. They just didn’t seem to realize that there were ways of solving things. Still, it was their preferred way, and I supposed that I shouldn’t begrudge them that, even if it did make my ears ring. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Let me explain this very carefully. Ermine Angelica Durand, <i>there are no such things as ghosts, okay</i>?” Velvet said, speaking in one emphatic breath.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Ermine huffed, “Haven’t you ever read The Christmas Carol?” she accusingly questioned.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Which just happens to be a <i>fiction</i> book,” commented Velvet. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Guys, chill,” I feebly attempted to say, but naturally they took no notice of my plea. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">I decided to go into the garage myself, and see if I could sense any supernatural presence. I did not expect to find anything, of course, and when I entered the oil-stained environment my predictions were fulfilled. It looked like an ordinary garage. Both cars were gone, Mom having one, Dad the other. One side of the garage was littered with Dad’s junk, the other with his tools. Really absolutely normal. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Except perhaps one thing. Ermine’s bike was broken rather badly, but the kickstand apparently still operated, and she had left it properly standing up. There was no wind in the garage, and yet the pedals were moving gently up and down, and the wheels slowly, agonizingly moved round and round. I frowned, and hesitated a moment, before bolting back up into the kitchen.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Velvet, I think there must be a draft in the garage,” I said, not wishing to bring her violent disbelief in ghosts down on my head, “Come see if you can spot it. It would be bad if there were a hole or something that could let rain and bugs in. Or the chickens…”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">We all went into the garage, me with a little trembling feeling in my stomach, and looked around. Velvet stopped short as she saw the unaccountably moving bicycle. It suddenly stood motionless just moments after we entered the garage.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Hum. Must be an after reaction from Ermine’s crazy driving,” said Velvet at last, “I don’t feel a draft, and we just had the garage put up a few months ago, after that hideous old tumbled down room was taken out.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“That was done years ago. The room being taken down, I meant, not the garage going up,” I laughed, “It was funny. They redid all the rest of the house, but forgot to restore this room. Still, it gave us a good place for a garage.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“But do not you see?” asked Ermine, “That’s the trouble. This wasn’t always a garage; it used to be somebody’s home, and at last it was somebody’s tomb.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Except,” said Velvet skeptically, “Even if someone <i>did</i> happen to die here, they probably weren’t buried.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Ermine sighed, “Well, I concede <i>that</i> point. Anyway, I daresay he doesn’t just haunt the garage.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">A bucket suddenly fell over, and we all gasped, only to look ashamed of ourselves shortly afterwards. June-Nip-Purr, Ermine’s cat, crawled out of the bucket with a startled look on her thin, pointed little face. She was a very dainty-looking cat. Her smoky-blue coat had earned her the name ‘Juniper’, but Ermine naturally had changed that up a little. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“There, see, everything is just as it should be,” said Velvet severely, “Not an oddity anyway. Bicycle wheels habitually move like that in some situations…”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“When someone’s pedaling them. It was stopped. I came in ten minutes ago,” said Ermine flatly. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Well, Shamrock and I both say there is nothing wrong here,” said Velvet, naturally having to drag me into it! </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Well, er, yeah,” I rambled.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Ermine gave a huge, exasperated sigh, and climbed back into the normal part of the house. She was obviously irritated with both of us, and so ominously didn’t speak for awhile. Velvet and I returned to the concoction of pasta salad, almost forgetting about the incident. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Shamrock!” screamed Ermine, running into the kitchen half-an-hour later, “The…come into the bathroom!”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">I set the bowl I was washing back in the water, and followed her quickly. Velvet, June (the cat), and Prince (my dog) followed us. We entered the restroom and saw a rather peculiar sight. The shower head was a movable one, and it was jerking up and down, sending chaotic spurts of water everywhere.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Ermine! What did you <i>do</i>?” shouted Velvet.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“I didn’t do anything!” screeched Ermine, “It was just like that when I came in.” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">For a moment we were silent, and then Velvet said through white, trembling lips, “Pipes. There is something wrong with the pipes, that’s all. I’ll…I’ll call Dad.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Dad was a plumber. He and Mom were at work, of course, but I supposed that phoning him wouldn’t do any harm. Velvet stumbled out of the room in order to make her proposed call. I, meanwhile, went over to the laundry closet, and located some duck tape. I firmly cut of a foot long strip and smacked it over the shower head, taping it to the shower stall itself. I then shut the water off and gave a slight gasp.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Sham?” squealed Ermine.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“I felt something cold. With the consistency of cheese fondue,” I explained breathlessly, “But nothing’s there. Min, keep June and Prince away from the toilet paper, won’t you?”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Unusual happenings or not, I didn’t have any wish to have a repeat of the event that had gained my dog his name. Prince’s full name was Prince Charmin and there were two reasons for it. Somewhat because he was an extremely ugly mastiff mix. But mostly because he had torn up an entire pack of Charmin toilet paper on his first day here, after we’d gotten him from the shelter. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“But anyway, the water is off…and, what in the world?”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">The washer and dryer were suddenly sporadically turning on and off, and that was when I fully realized that something really queer was happening. I frowned irresolutely, and then took off my glasses and wiped them on my t-shirt, before looking again at the machines. They were still bursting into life, and then dying down. I frantically unplugged them, and felt again the cold fondue-textured feeling seeping through my fingers. It was weird. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Dad says it’s probably nothing to worry about. He’ll be coming home in an hour, though, so he says we can wait until then to fuss about it,” said Velvet, “He thinks it might be something to do with the valves.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">I told her about the washer and dryer.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Velvet looked profoundly miserable, “Okay, this is not normal,” she admitted, “Someone must have meddled with our electricity and stuff.” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Orrrrrrr,” stretched out Ermine, “there’s a <i>ghost</i>.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Ermine, really, this is serious,” said Velvet.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Yes it is. Somebody died in our home, and now he’s increasing our electric bill,” said Ermine.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Ermine! There’s no ghost here,” Velvet insisted.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Ermine glared at her, and spoke one word, “Septic!” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">I choked on a laugh, “You mean skeptic,” I said, “And, Vel, I agree with Min, there’s something weird here.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Right, right,” said Velvet, “This is absurd. There’s something wrong with our plumbing, and we all start going on about supernatural this and that. Seriously, you two, grow up all ready.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“But I can’t for ten years yet,” moaned Ermine, “I’m only <i>eight</i>.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“And I’m just fourteen,” I rejoined, “It’s kinda hard to grow up when you’re incapable of it. Anyway, Vel, I think there is something a bit odd here. I’m not saying, exactly, that it’s a ghost…but I don’t think we ought to eliminate that <i>distinct </i>possibility. What’s that sound? Did you leave the mixer running, Velvet?”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">We resignedly went into the kitchen, followed by Prince, June, and Velvet’s sun conure Poppy was flying (and squawking) after us. I almost thought that the animals were scared and were sticking close to us for protection. Which was particularly funny in Prince’s case, the big two-hundred and fifty pound baby. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">The mixer was going, and it was bad, because Velvet had just put in several cups of flour and sugar and things to make cookies. The mixer was top speed, and I imagine everybody knows what a lot of dry ingredients souring into the air looks like. The spotless kitchen was now <i>far</i> from spotless. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Ermine stood on one foot, and sung her favorite tune, but with modified words, “We have got a ghostie, we have got a ghostie, we’ve gottt aaa ghostie, we’ve got a ghost!” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Velvet bawled, “Alright! Alright! We’ve got a ghost, and now Dad’s coming home, and you know he’ll be trying to get rid of it with insect spray and homemade gnat traps!” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">*</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Dad and Mom came home within minutes of each other, and immediately noticed something was out of place. I suppose one would, when your daughters are looking frantic and are covered in water and flour. The handles on the doors kept turning and opening, the dog’s balls were floating in the air, and the toilets kept flushing.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";"> Oh, and did I mention that the television came on every ten minutes and started screaming out all the horrible news of things that were going on in the city? And of course Ermine, who wasn’t supposed to listen to it, was glued to it every time it happened to turn on. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Well, there was one thing anyway. Velvet and I might have been terrified, exhausted, at at the end of our patience and resolution, but Ermine was enjoying herself tremendously. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Mom!” said Velvet, flinging herself into our mother with unwonted emotion, “Help!”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“N</span><span lang="ES" style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">ecesitamos ayuda,” added Ermine, who was learning Spanish. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span lang="ES" style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Ayuda, ayuda,” croaked Poppy, “’elp, ‘elp.” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“The mixer, and the TV, and everything is turning on,” I bawled. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">At this moment, in confirmation of words Dad’s car turned on and started backing out of the garage. Fortunately the door was there, and caught it. Well, perhaps not that fortunately. The door was crumpled up and the back of the car was too. But it stopped moving. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“What in the world?” asked Mom, staring from the garage door towards us. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Ghost,” I wailed.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Phantoms!” sobbed Velvet. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Wraiths and apparitions!” happily supplemented Ermine, “Come inside, and see what’s going on there. The flour went out of the mixer, and the bathroom’s soaked, because the shower turned on. And oh! Any number of things.” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Our parents numbly followed us into the house. Suddenly Prince jumped up and gnashed his teeth against something. For a moment we saw an anguished, shadowy appearance, clutching at their bottom, but it vanished almost immediately. Prince growled darkly, but looked confused. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">The dishwasher suddenly turned on and started leaking out soapy water. Mom gave a harrowing cry, and dashed towards it, fiddling with the controls. The front door burst open and we saw that our sprinkler was on, full blast. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Dad rushed outside, and Mom started unplugging all our electronics. The ghost was not to be foiled; the cupboard doors started opening and banging. We went into the living room, Dad joining us with an angry expression, and we all consulted together.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Why today?” Mom wondered, “What’s different?” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“I can’t think of anything,” I said musingly, “Except…well, but that’s absurd.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Oh!” said Ermine, looking enlightened, and running out of the house, leaving the door open behind her.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">She returned, panting, and lugging a huge painting which we had thrown out last night in our tidying up of the attic. Our excuse was that it was hideous. About three feet by two feet, it had an ugly, moldy frame. The picture itself was a black-and-white photo of an monstrously repulsive person, contorted by the photographer into greater degrees of ugliness. And the setting and clothing and everything was disgustingly foul. But nevertheless, that was the only change we made. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">And as Ermine presented it, the lights, which had been turning on and off rapidly, now halted. June curled up on the sofa, and Prince sat docilely on one of the air conditioning vents. Poppy went to her favorite perch and got a drink of water. Everything suddenly seemed to be normal. But there was an air of tension. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“James, perhaps if you just put the picture over the pianoforte?” tentatively suggest Mom. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“Can’t you just call it a piano, Mom?” bemoaned Velvet, as Dad complied, fussily arranging it on a hook.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">The air of tension vanished immediately. Ermine started plugging in our electronics again, and we all gazed at the painting.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“But it is <i>so</i> hideous,” sighed Mom.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">The lights flickered.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">“We’ll just need to clean it up a bit,” said Dad hurriedly, and the lights returned to normal.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">*</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">Three years later, and we have led a relatively normal and peaceful existence. There are minor drawbacks. The picture cannot get dusty or dingy in any way, or all our appliances start going haywire. But fortunately, Mom is a cleaning fanatic, so it doesn’t often happen. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Ubuntu Light";">The worst time was when Poppy decided to use it as her bathroom; we had to shower in cold water for a week. And occasionally, we get glimpses of our ghost. Ermine lives in the hope of getting to speak with him, and I confess that I would find it interesting. But as of now we just have to be tenderly respectful of his picture. Otherwise…well, none of us want to go through another day like the one we had. </span><o:p></o:p></p>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-38959932606078063682020-07-19T23:31:00.001-04:002020-07-19T23:31:26.457-04:00Challenge Time! Haunted House Challenge<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UF5KEkoC4SI/XxUOD2uOcsI/AAAAAAAADZQ/o_pWjUf45ygh0fr4L2QbUdpJALXtBL1RgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/modernbardchallengebutton.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UF5KEkoC4SI/XxUOD2uOcsI/AAAAAAAADZQ/o_pWjUf45ygh0fr4L2QbUdpJALXtBL1RgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/modernbardchallengebutton.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hey fellow Bards! It's time for our Summer Challenge! You guys all voted and it looks like the winner was:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FpYUESx4EHg/XxUOV-sAzDI/AAAAAAAADZY/eU0I086w0Fook_8s6_lrMZrXtC2gMMp8wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1296/hauntedhousechallengegraphic.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="782" data-original-width="1296" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FpYUESx4EHg/XxUOV-sAzDI/AAAAAAAADZY/eU0I086w0Fook_8s6_lrMZrXtC2gMMp8wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/hauntedhousechallengegraphic.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u>Rules</u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><br /></u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is a pretty self explanatory challenge: Write a story involving a haunted house. Now, however you decide to do that is up to you. It can be a real ghost, or it can just be psychological. It can be funny or scary, or both. That's up to you!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u>Date</u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><br /></u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Deadline for this one is September 18th</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm looking forward to seeing what you guys come up with!</div>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-7656592585656328352020-06-24T01:05:00.002-04:002020-06-24T01:06:35.635-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "The Red and the Wave"-- by Joseph Leskey (Part 2)<style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><h1><br /></h1><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nztyI2xQHOQ/XvLfC11-G8I/AAAAAAAADXM/RNIiuhPoYcUQ3EWM6i7dqni9TerqEOMzwCK4BGAsYHg/s690/the-red-and-the-wave-cover-by-joseph-leskey.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="690" data-original-width="474" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nztyI2xQHOQ/XvLfC11-G8I/AAAAAAAADXM/RNIiuhPoYcUQ3EWM6i7dqni9TerqEOMzwCK4BGAsYHg/s320/the-red-and-the-wave-cover-by-joseph-leskey.png" /></a></div><h1><br /></h1><h1 style="text-align: center;">Part II<o:p></o:p></h1><h2>Younger pummeled path, Fish Call.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“It is nearly time for dinner,” observed Syphir brightly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“We are almost to the well,” said Jasinta.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course we must press on.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent coughed in a wealthy sort of way. “Dear fellow, I quite agree, though I am ruined with hunger.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta seemed to have no pity on his ruination and pressed on determinedly, a hand to her side. Lady Erstella and the tutor both looked rather bemused, but they followed closely behind her without a word.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The company reached a hill and Frent, who apparently hadn’t noticed it in the distance, moaned, “Oh, let us go around. I couldn’t foot it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You can!” yelled Syphir encouragingly. “This adventure is creating you a new and better man!” In response, Frent made a noble effort, tripped on a slippery stone, and tumbled down.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A man walked past him, holding a sheep. “Governor,” he said, absolutely gliding up the hill.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Erg,” said Frent. “I’m useless and a failure; it was an ill-fated moon that rose the night of my birth, and ominous were the clouds.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir sprang down to him. “That’s not bad, fellow. We’ll sharpen that head of yours yet.” He reached out a hand, and with noble strength of character, Frent seized it and pulled himself up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Where have they all gone?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir looked. “Over the hill. Come along.” Syphir began pushing him up the hill. A gent in a bright uniform and numerous medals navigated around them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Dear, dear,” he said, turning and clicking his heels, putting a hand on the golden hilt of his sword and another to his magnificent mustache. “Dear, dear, dear. The young gentry these days. Probably fabulously wealthy?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh,” said Frent, shrugging off his friend and walking alongside the man, “rather. Thunderer is my house.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, well. Thunderer. Well, well. I’ve heard that name, of course. 1236. Blasted the bloody foe. Well, well.” He pulled a pistol from a large pocket and used it to scratch his ear. “Yes, her majesty, may she live forever and happily, her majesty herself is very much interested in your house. War’s brewing! And there are rumors about your house, as ever.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“War?” said Syphir. “There’s not such a thing these days.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hey ho!” said the gentlemen, twirling around and restoring the pistol to his pocket. “What’s this?” He drew his saber and put it under Syphir’s chin, looking at him carefully.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Sir!” exclaimed Syphir, a trifle hotly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Sir shook his head. “Bless my blasted boots. Are you not Syphir, my sister’s son?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Uncle Ollie?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The Honorable Belligerent Oliver, if you please, sir, decorated and all.” He seized Syphir around the shoulders and gave him a brutal embrace. “I’m overjoyed to see you, my lad! How have you been wasting your life, eh? Are you rich?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, but this fellow is, and he’s the truest friend in all the world.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, to think!” said T. H. B. Oliver. “The ancient alliance still stands. And what are you doing in these parts? Don’t tell me, ’cause I’m here to find out! Commissioned by the queen, with honor. Count me in on whatever path you’re treading. It’s what I’m here for. Come along, then. Let’s join up with the rest of your party.” He sheathed his saber, put an arm around Syphir and Frent both, opened his mouth, closed it again, and broke out into a decent hum. He rushed the both of them up the hill and down the other side before Frent could quite grasp how he was doing it, but the road was empty for a long way. In the distance, a circle of cottages could be seen, and the road led up right to center of this circle, where stood an unimpressive well.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Now,” said T. H. B. Oliver, “where are your friends?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I don’t know,” said Frent, somewhat out of breath – he and Syphir were still being borne along at a decent rate. At that moment, they shot through a brief puff of pink fog and the scene changed. It was the same road, the same houses, the same terrain, but the man with the sheep had appeared nearby arguing with a spectral somebody. And that was not the only specter. Indeed, the more Frent looked, the more specters appeared and floated out of the ground and the air and even each other.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Not to worry,” said T. H. B. Oliver. “Head down and homeward bound, that’s what I used to tell my division.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“We’re not homeward bound,” moaned Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” said the other, shaking him encouragingly, “the idea is, once the task is done, <i>then</i> you’re homeward bound, and thus so you are from the start. My compliments, madame,” he added as a transparent lady walked past. “Ah, and if you look carefully, there are your friends. Bring out your best feet.” He guided them around many apparitions, spewing forth many a polite nothing. It was some little time before they reached the rest of their party, but they managed to do it just before the rest of their party reached the well. Villagers were beginning to stream into the town from various fields about, and they were looking somewhat displeased with the specters.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“There you are again,” said Jasinta. “Hello, Oliver.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Jasi?” said Oliver, freeing his arms from his companions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The same.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I thought you were…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I am, but I must bring home the debt of Thunderer.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hello?” said Frent, a bit offended at this turn of phrase.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You know each other?” asked Syphir, quite shocked.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Here is the well.” Jasinta looked at it for a long moment. “It will have an inscription on it, and that inscription will bear the authority to install in you my power.” She stooped and studied the rim of the well. “Interesting. It’s not a very ancient language, and it’s a human one. It says…‘By blood I bought it and not my own, by walls I found it – they of bitterest foe, in time I took it left now all alone, and I rose above my legion. And thus is my boast, and the boast of my house after me, the boast of Burnthede, the boast of its iron, the boast of its steel and copper. For the old ways are not mine, and I would conquer, and I even still conquer in the person of Wey’ – ‘Weytra. Let her come, let it be so.’ Whoever this Weytra is, she now has the power of Thunderer. There is a great deception here.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent made a rather pathetic noise. “What do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir laughed. “I have an Aunt Weytra.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You do?” said Jasinta, looking surprised. Oliver looked surprised with her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, yes, but she passed away two – actually three – hundred years ago.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh,” said Jasinta. “Then who is this Weytra? I cannot see her. Oh, I also cannot see your Father.” She looked at Frent. “This could be very bad. I shall return.” She vanished.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Late evening. Gills Boulevard.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A great light appeared in Gills Boulevard, and many a person looked on it in wonder. The fog retreated and the gloom was broken. Jasinta emerged from the light, looking about warily. Sunlight flickered both around and seemingly from her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">An old woman walked up to her. “Are we supposed to fall to our knees and serve you forever? I would.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, thank you; have you seen a…?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“We see any curiosity that passes. The man passed into there and he’s up yonder in Retters Valley. He has a high doom upon him, but I see you’re not one to trifle in dooms. Ha ha.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Thank you.” Jasinta navigated into the narrow street. Many awed faces looked up, and an old gentlemen wearing two top hats tipped them at her. She smiled awkwardly at them, and suddenly the entire street was covered in precious ores and gems.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, sorry,” said Jasinta. She looked about in horror and fled.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“This is pleasurable,” said somebody behind her, and there was great laughter, but those people did not hear the mournful cracking in the depths of the earth, nor the rumor of anger between the clouds.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta sped on, coming to a wide open area. The earth shook, and several snails bulged into existence on the walls, leaving deep glowing trails as they moved forward. Jasinta sniffed. But then she raised her eyebrows. There was Geoffrey Thunderer kneeling before two tiny children who sat on the street. None of them could feel the sea surging miles away, a powerful rage growing in it against wrongful magic and excited by a final chaotic mistake. Yet somehow they would be untouched.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Retters Valley, Park Circa Sum, Branwyn.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“There’s a sleek cat and no mistake,” said the tiny boy in front of Geoffrey. “Most of the ones <i>I’ve</i> seen are missing an ear or two, and they have the range.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The mange, Baveir,” said the girl who sat beside him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That’s the one.” Baveir reached out a hand and Lorry pounced on him. The air split with his laughter.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Now, how did you two end up here?” asked Geoffrey.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What’s it to you?” asked Baveir shrewdly. “You look like a madishion. With my luck, you prob’ly are one of the ones who eat little tykes – of which number I am one – and use the bones for barber-us experience.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, no. No such thing.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, you <i>are</i> a madishion.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“A magician? I suppose I was, yes.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hm. And you’re a rich toff. Do you have a money? We can <i>always</i> use monies. If we don’t have monies we can’t buy things and then we starve and die.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I do, actually.” Geoffrey reached into his coat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I’m sorry, sir,” said the girl. “We couldn’t take it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Why not?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Somebody would sniff it out.” She shrugged. “Most people here are decent, but…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, yes,” said Geoffrey. “How <i>did</i> you end up here?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“How does anybody end up on the streets, covey?” yowled Baveir. “Poverty, disgrace, and the ills of society. There’s your answer.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“There it is,” said Geoffrey.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“It’s hard living on the streets,” continued Baveir. “It rains when it’s sunny and it wrecks haddock on young bones. What are you doin’ here anyway, gov? What’s your particular interest?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, that’s a long story. For now, how do you say I could help you best?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, that’s easy,” said Baveir. “What comes to the top of me head is that you could adopt us – we are poor and friendless and no one would mind – and then I could ask you about banks for years and years. I imagine you know about banks. Old Pete knew about banks, but he got sick and he says he’s lost his voice, so he won’t tell me about banks any more. I want to know about banks ’cause old Pete says they’re bound to fail and soon. So why don’t you adopt us? There’s nothing to it. Just shove us in any old cab and take us to your big house in the country. We won’t mind. Do you have a nanny there? I could use a nanny. Terly’s good at bringing me up, but she’s my sister, and a sister can’t do that motherly influence a chap my age needs. I’m dread fearful I might fall into bad company and become a repredate, as young chaps my age do. Was – were you ever a repredate?” He passed Lorry to his sister. Lorry yawned and licked her hand.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Consistently,” said Geoffrey. “But as for my big house in the country, I’ve vowed never to return to it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Poor fellow’s stupid-minded,” breathed Baveir with great sorrow.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, magic, you know.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Are you really a magician?” Terly asked through a quantity of cat as Lorry climbed over her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, I was. I gave up the magic – it was awful, something beyond what humans could deal with.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Don’t open your cake,” said Baveir sternly, “unless and only if you have something pleasant to say. My sister wants to see magic, so I say you ought to do some. Go on, then.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A wooden ring snaked around Geoffrey’s finger and a great shimmering black stone grew out of it. All four (including the cat) stared.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Did you do that?” asked Terly, breathless.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No,” said Geoffrey. A wisp of silver light shot out of his hand. “I never would have thought.” The silver light spread. Lorry immediately dived for the closest one. The tendrils sprang towards Terly and Baveir and rings like the first, though smaller, appeared on their own hands.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Excellent,” said Geoffrey, “this is more like it. A plan is beginning to form. What would you say if we went and visited my cousin in Greia? She is an uncommonly nice person, and she’s also a seer – do you know what that means?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Here, gov,” said Baveir indignantly, “how young do you think I am?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I’ve always wanted to go to Greia,” said Terly eagerly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes.” Baveir scratched his head. “Isn’t that where rich people sit on balconies all day and paint portraits of each other?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey burst into loud laughter. “Yes, indeed it is.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Excellent.” Baveir stood up. “I will collect my belongings.” He stooped for a small hat. “A hand up, sister?” He made a show of huffing and puffing as she offered her hand and he pulled her up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Baveir turned to Geoffrey, beaming. “I use this hat when I’m begging. When a little child like me is begging, it’s best to just walk around with a little hat and say ‘If you please, sir?’ to the gentlemen, or ‘A penny if you please, ma’m?’ to the ladies. But now I won’t have to beg because you’re rich.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well…” began Geoffrey, but Baveir would not suffer him to argue.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“There’s an old man around here who’s awful nice. People pay him lots of monies because he has two hats, and whenever he comes past here, which is very often, he showers it around for everybody. We can take it then because everybody else got some too. Him and Rigglesford is why we survived as long as we did. Have you ever heard of Rigglesford?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, I shan’t tell you until we get to Greia. And I want to take the old man with the two hats. I’m fearful for his health. He has a bad cough, doesn’t he, Terly?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Terly nodded. “He caught cold, and the air’s bad for him.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, we’ll take him to my cousin too, by all means.” Geoffrey smiled. “Let us find him.”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Night. The well, Fish Call.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">T. H. B. Oliver leaned against the well, tall shiny boots gleaming almost as brightly as his wide, easy grin. “Yes, indeed!” he exclaimed for no particular reason, and not for the first time. “Good job I’m a patient man, what?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir lay on the ground in the grips of melancholy. Frent stood looking doubtfully at him, and his grandmother and tutor stood looking doubtfully at everything. The villagers – those that were still awake – walked passed them all and shook their heads.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Better that I should have died on that table so many days ago!” cried Syphir.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yesterday, you mean?” said Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What if she’s injured? What if she’s hurt? And no help is coming. Oh, I’m a wretched man.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, indeed!” exclaimed T. H. B. Oliver. “Good job – what’s that?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">An ominous sphere of light approached. Ghosts fled from it, wailing, and some who were not speedy enough evaporated as it neared them. The earth shook periodically as it came nearer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Now here’s something to liven the blood,” said Oliver, grinning. “Everybody down, or I’ll put you down myself.” They all ducked. The villagers vanished into their houses as a strange beam of light wove its way through the sky, landing on the well.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The air shimmered with a bright light and rang with a thunderous sound, and suddenly there was a boom behind them. They looked up to see a gigantic metal leg extending in a long arch far above them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Are these my relatives?” said a grating, inhuman voice. “Are these the last branches of our noble tree? Do they fade so lightly in the house of smoke? Yes, specifically, I am speaking to you, Syphir Fite, and to you, honorable belligerent.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir stood up in indignation. “Do you mean to say that you <i>are</i> my Aunt Weytra?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course I am your Aunt Weytra. Where is your sense, boy?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“My Aunt Weytra is made out of crude iron?” Syphir said slowly, as if he didn’t quite believe it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, and she’s very pleased about it too. Metal – especially iron – and magic do not mingle; everybody knows that. Yet they have now. And, oh ho! Do I see my dear little puppet, the fool Frent?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I beg,” stuttered Frent, “I beg to—”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, of course you do. I do not deign to notice your tutor and your grandmother, for they are nothing to my superiority. I am unduly powerful. Hang death and everything to do with it, I say. I am nearly three hundred years old, and I am inconceivably impressive. I am incredibly proud of myself in my actions of the last centuries, and I’m not one to cringe away from boasting. Can you imagine how gratifying it is, after three hundred years of letting an entire house have an ancient being’s power, to take it for yourself? I doubt you can.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“But, but, but,” said Frent. “I thought this well – my magic…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“It would have been,” said Weytra coldly. “You now have no magic at all. It’s all mine, stolen through you from Jasinta.” The metal aunt laughed. “Jasinta! Two badly placed bullets nearly destroyed her. She will be nothing. And for so long she has been bound because of your family! I was utterly ingenious.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“So now,” said Lady Erstella, “you want to take Burnthede for your own, or the world? You do sound a bit crazed, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes,” began the metal aunt. But then she screeched. “No! No, no! I care nothing for this planet. I hate this bubble of existence, where we are hidden away from a higher reality. But this will all end when Jasinta does. And <i>then</i>my plans go into full action. Shall I detail them?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No,” said the tutor. “We all know how evil humans work. It’s all the same.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Shall I crush you, little man, beneath my <i>enormous metal foot</i>?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, thank you,” said the tutor, bowing low. “My apologies. Beg pardon. So sorry.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hmmmmmmmm.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Wait,” said Syphir. “Do you know where Jasinta is? Did you…?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That depends on what you mean. But, now that you mention it, there is no need to wait for her to return. She is exactly where I want her already. Follow me at your peril.” The huge metal body glowed and partially assimilated into the air before diving into the well with a great splash.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir immediately jumped to the edge of the well. “I may be a weak, flippant man, and a lowly, but where matters of the heart are concerned, my honor will uphold me through perilous and absurd circumstances.” He plunged into the well.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“He’ll drown!” bellowed Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Somebody poked their head out of a cottage window. “Here, did your friend just go into our well? And the great metal one?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes,” said Frent, “they did, fellow.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That’s blinkin’ well indecent. He’ll dirty it an’ all. Get him out, while he’s still kicking.” The window was shut up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, am I not her majesties loyal servant?” T. H. B. Oliver prepared to leap. “Oh, right. Hang it all; I have to take a report back. I can’t do that dead. Poof, what am I worried about, then? Killed in the line of duty! No greater honor.” Into the well he jumped with a massive splash. Frent flew to its side. Oliver was floating there, sopping wet.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, here I am,” said the honorable belligerent. “Boots full of water.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Have a hand,” said Frent kindly, holding one out. The man latched hold and hauled himself out.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, look,” he said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A few columns of stiff-looking men holding stiff-looking sheep had appeared and they jerkily approached the well. The company stared at them nervously.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You all get in like you mean it,” said Oliver. “I smell trouble. And I expect I can’t get in as a particular peculiar to my person – probably my military training.” He strode loftily towards the row of stiff sheep-holders, and said, “Gents.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">They advanced. The tutor and Lady Erstella approached the well.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What, what?” Oliver cried. “Who are you lot, now? State your business, I say! In the queen’s name, if you please.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">One sheep turned into an enormous rusty scythe and its wielder spun it towards Oliver. His sword was drawn and pushing it away in an instant.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hm,” said Oliver. He struck a fell swoop and the men all became creatures of shadow, armed and armored in much rusty equipment. They fell upon him and more sprang from the air. The ground rumbled, rocks split, and plants turned black.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oi, a little quarter for a chap.” He glided backwards and drew a pistol. “Oi, you lot back there, get in.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Lady Erstella climbed to the edge of the well and rashly plunged. She vanished. The tutor, after some hesitation, turned from the well and a strange white pattern appeared about his hands. He pointed at the horde of rusty wraiths and some of their number were consumed in a white flash.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent stared. “You <i>are</i> a wizard!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I have some skill with…these things.” He advanced and cast another sweeping white wave. Suddenly, a familiar, enormous man appeared, scratching his head under his hat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Off duty,” he explained shortly. “Rigglesford at your service.” He swung a club at a nearby phantom and utterly vanquished it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent backed toward the well and gripped the rim. He turned and looked into his depths. He crawled onto the rim and swallowed. Suddenly, there was a gunshot behind him and, his nerve frazzled, he fell forwards – and down. The last thing he heard was Oliver calling, “You are very welcome!”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>The ocean<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Some supernatural force seized Frent and would not release him. It dragged him at terrible speeds through infinite liquid. He was too shocked to breathe or to worry about breathing. Dark scenes passed by in the smallest instants, and the world grew white. Suddenly, he was floating on what he suspected was the middle of the ocean. His eyes adjusted and he saw his grandmother and Syphir were both in the distance, swimming energetically towards a small ship. A great mass of iron protruded briefly from the water near them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hello, Frent,” said a voice near him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hello?” He looked around. A colossal wave threw him for possibly a hundred yards, yet in comfort, and he was gently received back into the ocean, directly on top of a metal protrusion. His grandmother and Syphir were only a few yards away now, but they apparently had no thought of looking backwards; they had nearly reached the ship.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I can’t swim,” moaned Frent, swimming away from the metal. An enormous hand suddenly grabbed hold of him, but a colossal blue dragon smashed into the hand and caught Frent up, the next instant dropping him on the deck. It fell beside him, only it was of a sudden an equally large snake, and it wrapped itself around the mast and slipped lightly into the water.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent stared. A few moments later, Lady Erstella emerged over the side of the ship, followed immediately by Syphir. He looked repulsed at using a snake as a rope, especially when it morphed yet again, and became a grim middle-aged woman bearing a cutlass.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“My apologies,” he stammered.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I won’t have apologies. We must defend Jasinta.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“She isn’t here,” said Syphir aimlessly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I will take you to her.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Salva led the way to a door which opened to a staircase. “Now, the ship is going to start tossing in the waves again, and you’ll just have to be accustomed to it. The hideous iron blob outside will be stayed for a short while because of the way in which things operate. Jasinta will not be expecting us. Poor thing thinks she has to run all around the world.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">She opened a door at the bottom of the stairs and the floor began rolling beneath them. Frent stumbled over to look through the doorway, but there was no light beyond it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No,” said Salva, “this door does not lead to the outer void; it’s just very dark out here.” She stepped through and vanished, and the others followed her cautiously. The ground no longer rolled. There was some light in one direction and in that direction Salva went. The place was made of some heavily interlocked white woody material. Visible around a corner was the edge of a pool, a very small pool, it so happened, behind which was a stone chair. A large rough chamber spread out around these two items. Two passageways led off from this chamber, one glowing a flickering red and one periodically flashing a brilliant white. Mere moments after they entered the chamber, Jasinta appeared in the chair, looking dazed. She was not wearing any bandages. Complex symbols were being woven on her wrists and they glowed like fire.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You are alive still?” asked Syphir anxiously.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Probably,” replied Jasinta. “I don’t know much right now. The main part of my consciousness is away. Salva, do you have any tea?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">There was a deep thud in the distance. Then a huge metal hand pushed through the floor and faded. A specter much like the ones with the scythes appeared over the hole, but this one looked very much like an elderly aunt, though not a very nice one. She glided towards Jasinta.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I have waited a long time for this day. See how masterfully a house has been exploited over centuries to ensnare you. See how I am the cumulative power that can overthrow something so ancient and so fundamental as your life. I find it fascinating. I daily thank my ancestors for their ruthless intelligence.” She reached out a hand and pushed against a sphere like glass that appeared around Jasinta. It grew red where she pushed and started to crack.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Go on, then,” shouted Syphir. “You’ll have to get past me.” He swaggered over.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What is this? A member of my own house?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No,” said Frent, as if in a trance, “take me.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, that would be amusing.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“But first,” said Frent’s grandmother, “I’d like you to hear my claim.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Your what?” she turned, looking legitimately confused.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I too am of the house of Thunderer.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“By marriage only, I think.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I, dear madam, am an authoritative member of my house. My son and grandson may have given up their potency and will, but I have given up neither.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That is a very good point,” said Salva thoughtfully.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A greatsword suddenly appeared in Weytra’s hand, and she ripped through the air towards Erstella. Syphir and then Frent lunged after her but fell on their faces, and she swung the sword.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A scepter appeared in Erstella’s hand, and the sword clanged off, bursting into mist.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I should never have included scepters in the curse,” muttered Weytra, falling back.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Lady Erstella was not inactive. She raised the staff and Jasinta winced markedly. The symbols on her wrists glowed with fervent intensity. An enormous ape with a cutlass stood suddenly in front of Weytra.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Erstella spoke. “By the authority vested in me <i>et cetera et cetera</i>, I utterly cast down the design of this Weytra (as far as I am able), and I blot out utterly the words on the well which we have just seen and nullify the power thereof or any curse connected to those words. In short, I eradicate the curse and restore things to a more perfect order in any way in which my authority has relevancy. So be it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Nothing very definite happened immediately, but Weytra seemed to diminish with every word. The staff suddenly pulsed blue and shattered, and with it shattered Jasinta’s chair. The earth shook, and Weytra fell backwards with a great trailing haze. Rocks and dirt dropped into the chamber, and the floor shuddered.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“One thing remains, I think,” said Salva, suddenly in the form of a human again. “There is much of the Thunderer way of life that depends on the power, and Frent, I perceive, is now the lord of that estate. Do you give it up to whatever judgment may naturally befall it?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course he doesn’t,” moaned Weytra.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent looked very troubled. He opened his mouth. Syphir gulped. Frent opened his mouth further. “Will my house tumble?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir was dismayed. “You think of something like that in a time like this?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Salva shrugged. “I really couldn’t say.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And the servants?” Frent shifted his weight. “They would be safe?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir looked rather ashamed. “Ah, yes, forgot about that.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Salva looked rather amazed. “Ah, yes,” she said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta rose painfully from her broken chair. Her wrists no longer had anything red or glowing on them. There was a blurred movement and suddenly another Jasinta stood in the room, a hand to her bandages. In a moment, the Jasinta who had been seated disappeared in a whirlwind of nothing definable, and Jasinta breathed a long breath. “Things are much better now. I think I can risk removing your servants from your house. Your father is doing quite well.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent gulped. “That’s good – very. Kindly do displace the servants, if you will.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta disappeared for several seconds, and then flickered back into existence, stumbling. “There.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent gulped again. “I give up my estate to the natural judgments.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta shimmered, and she looked apologetic. “Well. It was judged.” The room cracked and seemed brighter, but then Weytra rose.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And so passed my glorious plan, but I was prepared for eventualities. Yes, indeed I was. You ought to know how impressive I am, with the way I can toss magic authority about.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Quite,” said Jasinta quietly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Salva manged to quite convincingly draw her cutlass, in spite of the fact that it was already drawn.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Weytra laughed. “This circumstance hastens my schemes, and I tap into my fullest strength. No sword could prevail against me. Also, I summon my trusty slaves.” The rusty specters burst into existence on the other side of the room, and the honorable belligerent Oliver fell from one, Inspector Rigglesford burst through another, and a glowing tutor spun through several, obliterating two. The wraiths were a much reduced and not very impressive force.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Give me a sword,” said Syphir grimly. “We can take them!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, allow me to show my hand a bit, then.” Weytra expanded a little and a horde of rusty ghosts and sundry compilations of organic material – this largely being a variety of bones – rose up behind her. “And the battle is met!”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Extremely late night. Gardet ser Haveleig. Greia.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey F. Thunderer appeared in Greia. A swirl of silver wrapped around him and whipped Terly, Baveir, and the old man of two hats out of the air. They all stared at the garden about them. Warm-colored flowers were artistically placed, short and tall trees appeared just exactly where they might be desired, and herbs grew in charmingly arranged baskets. Some places were wide open, some were shady and covered in velvety leaves, and everywhere the grass was trim and soft. A stone structure had been thoughtfully set encircling the garden, largely appearing as a wall, but a little ways away rising up into a large stone house, a cheerful glow shining from the windows. The delicate glass doors facing them were wide open, as were the several wide, arched windows. A gravel expanse extended from the house, surrounding a little pool with two sculptures shaped cunningly like hares. These sat staring at each other, and water tumbled lazily off their backs.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The jolly face of a middle-aged man appeared through some bushes. “Ha!” he exclaimed. “Visitors.” His head disappeared, and he came jigging into sight. “Spies from Burnthede! Is that not my esteemed cousin-in-law? And you three I don’t believe I have ever met. My name is Caerto. I can’t help it, but it is.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Poor beggars, that’s who we are,” said the old man of the hats, “desperate characters.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“<i>I’m</i> Baveir and this is Terly,” said the little fellow with dignity. “We are not desperate, but we are very poor.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, how excellent you landed here! Nobody’s poor in Greia!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” said Geoffrey. “The matter of poverty in Greia <i>is</i>…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Don’t you worry about any of your Burnthede pride. We don’t hold with such stuff in Greia. Dear, dear. Geoffrey, look at yourself, man. I glance properly at you now, and you look at least forty-seven. What have you been doing to yourself? Now, you’ll be wanting to see the <i>fleur llonnath</i> of my heart. My darling wife!” He stayed still a moment, with his hand pressed dramatically to his chest, before trilling, “<i>¡Amairte!</i>”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Forthwith, there was a person of very radiant appearance emerging from the house. She looked at the gathering for a moment, and then beamed. “<i>¡D'cosin amtir!</i>” she cried, rushing over the gravel like one born to such things despite her uncommonly thin shoes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey went forward to meet her, and everybody else followed him. In a moment, she had seized each of them (excluding her husband) by the arms and had granted each of them (excluding her husband) a kiss on each cheek. She seemed to be utterly thrilled.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Geoffrey!” she said. “You’ve been around far too much magic. And you three? You want some crackers. My name is Lladh-Sairpe, but I’m called Cetuil. What are those rings? Geoffrey, this is really excellent. You’ve finally settled down properly with magic. Those are really nice.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I don’t know where they come from,” said Geoffrey, holding up the ring. “But the magic feels purer.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I think the magic feels the same,” returned Cetuil. “You feel purer using it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey didn’t reply, but Cetuil was already guiding them irresistibly to a little table. “Let’s have tea!” she said. “Unless you want to sleep. Sleep anywhere you like.” She grinned at Geoffrey. “Some major thing is happening in the core of the world. I think a great shadow has passed from your house. It still lives, though, and my sight of it is rather cloudy. Your mother and son have done very great things today.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Have they really?” said Geoffrey, looking troubled.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>A possibly subterranean chamber, an indeterminate location.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The battle was most definitely, most loudly, and most violently met. The onslaught of swishing and screeching metallic decay was defied by a bright but tremulous defense. T. H. B. Oliver exuded bravado as he performed great feats of arms, but Salva repulsed the foe with a lethal calm. Frent and Syphir stood back to back, Frent holding a rapier borrowed off of Oliver, and Syphir holding a borrowed pistol. Frent was amazed and comforted to find energy trailing through his arms, infusing the sword with an inspiring vanquishing effect. Syphir did not seem to be having any such fair fortune, but the tutor stood nearby manufacturing great white arcs that conveniently kept most of the specters and some of the skeletal forces at bay.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Inspector Rigglesford seemed to favor any foe composed of bones and everywhere his baton could be seen in the act of pulverizing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta had disappeared into the shadows some time ago and Lady Erstella had followed her. Weytra had also done so.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A huge burly thing made from stones pushed though the battle and crashed into Frent. He fell with a cry, and his rapier disappeared into a howling mass of spirits. A stone fist swung toward his head, but Inspector Rigglesford appeared, shoving aside the blow. Another fist struck the policeman down, and he took the opportunity to adjust his helmet.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No hard feelings,” he said, absolutely brutalizing what could be considered the thing’s knee. It stumbled and crashed into more howling spirits. In the far reaches of the chamber, there was a sudden fiery glow, a tremendous conflagration, and a tidal wave of the enemy, burning and evaporating as they were flung through the air. A great blue dragon crouched there, panting heavily and smoking.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The horde stilled and cowered back into the opposite side of the chamber. Inspector Rigglesford heaved Frent to his feet.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That’s right,” said the dragon in a roughly Salva-like voice. “Settle down. Whew!” She lowered her head tiredly. The honorable belligerent limped out of the horde.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Nasty blighters,” he said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Everybody waited as if expecting something different to happen, and it did. There was a definitively evil screech, and Jasinta crashed to the ground in a dark shockwave. Frent’s grandmother came flying down after her, but a soft white glow from around Jasinta slowed her descent to quite a comfortable speed. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Weytra appeared, floating above them with random bits of metal twisting out of and around her. She reached downwards and sparkling darkness glimmered and crashed in a monumental pillar toward Jasinta. The light of the room faded and failed. But a spark appeared over Jasinta and then raged upwards, prevailing against the murk and smashing against the ceiling in myriad colors, and Jasinta was standing. Frent found himself and his companions being hurled powerfully towards Salva, who dropped her dragon guise. In the midst of the splendor, Weytra’s dark shape was hurled to the other side of the chamber and her entire army disintegrated in a great wave. Jasinta focused the light with a hand, and Weytra herself fell to the floor and struggled forward, flinging back the magic, but still it approached her. A dark force burst from her hand and the two opposing powers vied erratically for dominance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You cannot defeat me,” stated Jasinta.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course I can’t. Your rule is absolute in this pathetic cave. Accordingly, I don’t mean to conquer you – just to fracture the world a little.” The earth cracked as she spoke, and a thin chasm was rent in the floor.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh,” said Jasinta, “yes.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And also to show you that I am a powerful enemy, not a mere trifling human.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Which you have effectively done.” Jasinta pushed the light a little closer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“But my true strength is not in enchantment, and that is the most important point. I have conquered you in one area, and very soon you will find out how.” Her darkness expanded. “I do admire you, though, and your friends. There’s merely seven of them and you, and none of them harmed. I revere that.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta said nothing. Tendrils of red were becoming more prominent in the energy bursting from her. Weytra finally seemed to be truly struggling as her darkness was reduced to a small, swirling sphere. The floor around her was in an instant destroyed as the intensity of the onslaught became greater.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And we’re done!” said Weytra. She held up a hand, and Jasinta stopped her attack, releasing it as a weak shockwave that bounced quickly around the room. The lighting returned to normal.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Weytra stomped and the floor disappeared around her. “We’ll meet again.” She fell and vanished in a multitude of purple rays.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Salva stalked up to Jasinta. “That,” she said, looking down into the hole, “<i>is</i>, in fact, the outer void.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta bent next to it. “Maybe.” The walls and ceiling of the chamber began to crumble and fall. “I’ll take us out.” Suddenly, they all stood on the deck of the ship. Jasinta looked at them worriedly. “She has started a war. The queen has just allowed a declaration against Kadene.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Kadene!” exclaimed T. H. B. Oliver. “Impossible. There was war brewing, but it wasn’t…Kadene is one of the closest allies of Greia. We would never attack a friendly nation.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Nevertheless, the declaration is swiftly being enacted. Dark powers and twisted things of metal have been active in Kadene, and trade relations with them have been turning cold; Burnthede feels it must face the threat.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The audacity of my aunt!” Oliver cried. “Kadene? I’m upset. I am truly upset. Oh, I hope we don’t end up fighting Greia. Allies for nearly three hundred years now! This is disturbing.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, glad to help and all,” said Inspector Rigglesford. “It’s nearly my time back in Branwyn. Bless me, I haven’t slept a wink tonight.” He disappeared before anybody could respond.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I had better report back to her majesty,” said Oliver, looking seriously worried. “Invading Kadene! Who would have thought? Where are we?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta didn’t tell him. “Shall I send you back to Branwyn?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, yes. Please do.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">She threw a hand forward and he disappeared with a snap, waving.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta looked nervous. “I will take you all back to your – your estate.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Lady Erstella grinned. “We’ll have to see what happened to it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Branwyn faded around them, and they remained in a bit of a haze for a little while.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Look,” said Jasinta’s voice, “I <i>am</i> sorry.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What—?” began Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The lawn of the Thunderer estate was still immaculate. But some other things were evidently not so well off. In front of them was utter destruction and chaos. Stone, wood, furniture, countless household implements, and almost everything else imaginable was spread out in a perfect circle, looking quite absurd in the moonlight. Numerous servants stood about in their night attire, discussing and looking shocked. Some of them, though, were congregating a little ways away from the destruction and they seemed to be having a picnic. A very few of them were sleeping in their beds, apparently oblivious of their relocation to the outdoors.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The stable and the tool-shed over there are still standing,” ventured Jasinta.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent worked his jaw grimly, and looked. “Yes,” he said in a very controlled voice, “yes, that is true. They are.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I didn’t know something like this would happen—your ancestors must really have, well…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir walked up, beaming. “Look at this!” he said, clapping Frent on the back. “A whole new canvas! You can paint on it a glorious mansion of your own invention.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” said a man’s voice nearby. Everybody turned towards the sound. It was Geoffrey Thunder’s estate manager. “Sir, I beg leave to inform you that you have no money.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What?” whimpered Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, yesterday I informed your father that practically every interest this estate has had suffered several catastrophes of a nominally natural nature.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What?” said Frent and Jasinta simultaneously.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And now, behold this destruction. Still, something of value may be salvaged from it. Of course it could. Oh, but there is also the matter of the bank. Nobody knows what happened but your bank has both failed and turned into a tea shop. It almost sounds as if most of its assets simply disappeared.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Incredible!” cried Syphir.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Which,” said the man, “brings us to the final point. The Thunderer crops have been leveled, the mines have vanished and imploded, and – oh yes – rumor has it that there is a large governmental scandal involving your family. Fortunately, that will probably be hushed up. Commoners are saying that your family has been controlling the monarch for ages. That’s all. I’d say some magician has cursed you, if you asked me professionally. I’m going back to Branwyn now. If you recover your fortune, you know I am willing to return to your service.” He bowed and walked off.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent began to laugh hysterically. Several servants looked over. Syphir pounded his back.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I really didn’t want—” began Jasinta miserably.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” laughed Frent, “there it is! Cheerio! G’day!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The entirety of this situation has become currputed and too many people were punished.” Jasinta looked thoughtful. “When I first came to Burnthede, I broke several rules quite horribly, punishing your house, and they must be repaired. There is also the matter of Weytra. If I were given leave to center my operations from your estate, I could help rebuild it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That is a very good idea,” said Syphir instantly. He switched to a loud, wheedling whisper in Frent’s ear. “And she can keep you all safe from the evil aunt; you’re certain to be in Aunt’s particular interest.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” said Frent to Jasinta. “None of this was your fault, really. We should be the ones to deal with the consequences.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir was astounded.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Lady Erstella fervently continued Frent’s line of thought. “The house of Thunderer always was a disgrace, and we scraped in miserable profits and connections in horrible quantity. It is small wonder and right that something like this came of it. As for me, though, I would be extremely pleased if you stayed about no matter what follows, dear.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course you would!” exclaimed Syphir, recovering his senses. “So would tutor!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“My name,” said the tutor, “is Mr. Petros.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, there.” Syphir grinned broadly. “It’s decided. Eh, Frent?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, I…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Good.” Syphir looked enormously pleased. “Now, I had better go home. But where will you all…? I have far too many sisters at home to offer you any guest-room.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Am I staying on the grounds?” Jasinta stretched her hands. “A great part of my effort in rebuilding would be spent for your servants, who may depend on this estate.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” said Frent. “I suppose…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course you may stay on the grounds!” said Erstella. “And welcome!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And I may build myself a very small…?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, naturally,” said Erstella.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“This may cause general grief later.” Jasinta turned towards the ruin and vanished. Suddenly, boards began shifting, stones and bricks tumbled over each other, and glass reassembled at select spots in the air. All the servants (including the ones that had been sleeping) turned from what they were doing and watched in amazed enjoyment. A foundation came together, walls came up, windows and doors were placed, balconies sprang outwards, paint spread, several chimneys were constructed, a roof was soon rushing forth from under them, and everywhere uncountable small changes were made. Across the grounds, paths and roads were smoothed and repaired, plants sprang up to more than their usual vigor, and in the distance an orchard that had been there the day before was remade.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“But this is wonderful,” cried Frent. Syphir collapsed beside him, unable to manage his exuberance. The tutor had fallen asleep where he sat.. Lady Erstella was smiling widely.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The reconstruction continued going expeditiously. The house and grounds were not nearly as elaborate as they had been, and they looked much more old-fashioned – indeed quite like they had nearly three hundred years ago – but they were somehow much nicer. Several new structures with indeterminate uses were springing up, and as a final astonishment, Jasinta’s entire ship glided down into the lawn, a large bird fluttering around it, and quickly morphed into a quaint little group of buildings with a sparkling fountain in their midst. By this fountain Jasinta appeared, and the first rays of sunrise appeared with her. Great was the applause, and greater still were the many three cheers, when those rays fell upon the last small adjustment of the manor, and the estate was rebuilt.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Nearby.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Dawn revealed someone else on that lawn, now uncloaked by darkness, yet not seen by any of those he was watching. He was a figure of indeterminate age, and the way he stood he could have been any passer-by who happened to see a house being repaired by magic. Yet there was something in his pale face, just visible in the early light, something in his keen eyes, glinting with a light seemingly all their own, and something in his right hand, upon which was set a silver ring with a large, dark stone. There was something still more in the black robe he wore and the orange pendant about his neck. He bent down and grasped a thick walking stick with his ringed hand.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Do you think I’m a threat to you?” he said quietly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A vaguely defined shade appeared in the air, shifting the leaves in the forest. “Do you know who I am?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You should know who I am, Weytra.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Weytra hesitated. “You are nobody. I don’t know why—”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I do know why. Despite the baseness of your nature, your magic is purer than mine, and you fear that.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You should tremble before me. I <i>will</i> conquer this world.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And then all the others. Yes, I know.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Who do you think you are, talking to me? I will destroy you if you do not leave this place.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course,” said the man, “you could. But none of this concerns me; we’re talking about my daughter.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Weytra let out a long breath, and she fell to the ground. “Jasinta.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Very good. Do not move against her – not yet.” He bent and picked up a fistful of dirt. “Strange that I should fear this. There is something in this earth that is not right. I wonder if your war will improve it – because if it doesn’t, perhaps its just as well your ambition reaches beyond this world. Perhaps one of us will survive.”<o:p></o:p></p><span style="font-family: "liberation serif", serif; font-size: 12pt;">He walked away, and Weytra’s face as she stared after him was livid, but something like fear flickered for a brief moment in her eyes as she vanished into the air.</span>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-26876188125525728762020-06-23T02:06:00.001-04:002020-06-23T02:06:52.814-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "The Red and the Wave" -- by Joseph Leskey (Part 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9GwJOly2WtA/XuHlzjzz1PI/AAAAAAAADUQ/JVvPueSp6uMYAYH7LhsBglwg48f1RWexQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/the-red-and-the-wave-cover-by-joseph-leskey.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="690" data-original-width="474" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9GwJOly2WtA/XuHlzjzz1PI/AAAAAAAADUQ/JVvPueSp6uMYAYH7LhsBglwg48f1RWexQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/the-red-and-the-wave-cover-by-joseph-leskey.png" width="219" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Liberation Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Liberation Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; font-weight: bold;">The Red and the Wave</span></div><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="By" style="font-size: medium;">by Joseph Leskey<o:p></o:p></p><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The light of a small fire shone through the darkness to light two figures, one an old man, sitting slouched in an armchair, and the other a young girl, seated beside him with her head bowed. The man breathed shallowly, and the fire quivered with each weakening breath.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Grandfather?” said the girl.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The old man stirred. “Jasinta. Some things go too far to – to bear it.” He closed his hand shakily. “The sea is calm today.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The girl raised her head, and her eyes shimmered in the firelight. “Salva says the sea is sad for you.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The old man laughed tiredly. “I would she was right, but only your mother was acquainted with the deep.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Will she come back first, or will you?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I cannot tell where our fate lies, if indeed it continues. Our power is diminished and decayed; we must be shattered so the mallet can survive. I can no longer keep this world even from bondage. Soon, this burden will be yours.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You said they must be punished.” The girl’s voice wavered.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And so they must be. Match their glory with your obscurity, and bring them to shame. Their water is like sand to you, and thus it will parch their throats. The might of their hand rejoin with the frailty of all we have, and let them collapse. Oh, yes, Jasi, Keep this doom always against the house of the red and the wave.” A wind blew, gentle and brief. The fire flickered and grew stronger.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Grandfather?” the girl wept. “It couldn’t…Salva? Salva!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Footsteps pounded outside but faded and ceased. The room brightened, and rage and grief pierced every corner of the room in a multitude of beastly and ethereal voices that now only Jasinta could hear.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Fourteen years later. Star Garden, Thunderer Estate.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, no, no, no,” said Fernt Thunderer IX. “Oh, no, no, no.” He used a lace handkerchief to wipe an expensive crumb from his pedigreed mouth. “No, no. When I stand to inherit, I’m sure I’ll behave as I always have. A luncheon at noon, tea at four, dinner whenever. Some hunting, a rose or two in the garden. Yes—” He took a sip of wine, swallowed, and again wiped his mouth. “Yes, I’m sure there will be little change.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">His grandmother, Erstella, and his tutor exchanged a significant glance, but Fernt didn’t notice. He sliced half a biscuit into two smaller portions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir Fite, a great chum of considerably less means, popped a whole biscuit in his mouth and said, “As for me, I have little chance of inheriting even a small estate. I am remarkably well balanced in my tones and hues, and that is the only virtue to recommend me. Anyway, next week, was it, Ninth?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Was what?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The day you ‘stand to inherit.’” Syphir pushed aside his food, leaned back against a tree, and swung his feet around and up onto the table. The tutor and servants all kept a horrified silence.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Here, preposterous fellow! You are joking, I vow.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, I’ve never been more in earnest. I truly can’t place the date. Next month, perhaps it was.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Fernt set his glass down. “My dear Fite, it is tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Ha! There. I wonder what made the old boy give up his estate. Can’t be more than forty-seven at the most, I’d say. Wad of resin?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, thank you. And father says he wants a quieter life. Nothing wrong with that.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Fite shrugged and popped something into his mouth. “Nothing wrong about it for you, at any rate. I suppose you’ll forget the great chums of your youth?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I’d rather hope I shouldn’t. The idea of it.” Fernt ate a tender sliver of chicken. “Excellent fowl. Morris, notify the cook that this bird is truly marvelous.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, my lord.” Morris straightened his aching back.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You’re too kind, IX.” Syphir strained for his glass and, his endeavor sucessful, fell back with a huff. “You know, I really don’t believe it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Don’t believe what?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Just a few miles away, a tidal wave has destroyed a whole village today, and here we are! Life in all its perfections. I’m glad I don’t have <i>my </i>money in the railway.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The railway? What of it?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Only that the blessed thing was uprooted and destroyed for miles, engines and cars too.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Impossible! You don’t say!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What’s this? Do you have an interest in the railway?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Father’s put an odd pound in it – I’m sure he has. I’m fluttered.”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>The manor on the pond, Thunderer estate.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I’ve been a poor parent, Lorry.” The honorable Geoffrey F. Thunderer XIV stared out an enormous window at the garden, where his son gesticulated foolishly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The cat to whom he spoke yawned.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I’m doing all this at your advice, you know. When he touches the great memorandum of his ancestors, then he will know where we stand, and it will not be foolishness backing his superiority.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The cat licked a delicate curtain and then bit it. And bit it again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I, Lorry, must disappear. I know why my father took that ship. It was a voyage that was meant to be his last. Man ought not to trifle…in anything. Anything at all.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The cat turned from the curtain, blinked, and mrrowed loudly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Exactly, Lorry, exactly.” The man stared at the windowsill for a few moments. “I hate Burnthede.”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>The garden.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I say, is it going to rain?” Syphir looked at the sky and laughed. “Look at the absolute speed of those clouds there.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Don’t be absurd. It couldn’t rain. Not in a hundred years, at least. Darling Gran, is something wrong?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Nothing, Frent.” She exchanged an exasperated look with his tutor. The tutor took a nonchalant bite of kidney as the clouds covered the sun.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent stared at them for a moment. “Say there, Morris, do your duty to king and country and have these utensils and edible things put wherever you types put them. There’s a fellow! Shall we retire early?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“We might.” Syphir righted himself and stretched. “I don’t fancy getting too wet. A weak constitution can be ruined in a little rain. My sister could tell you that any time of the day.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A torrential splash of rain fell on the scene, and with it came an equally powerful gust of wind. The table fell over and Frent with it. Syphir jumped to his feet. “We must stay calm! Are we all here? To the house, quickly.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">An unearthly glow sprang up some distance away, and soon after thunder cracked like an ominous whip. A second bolt of lightning exploded a nearer tree, sending it up in evident flames and smoke.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Run! Run, I say! Flee!” Frent pounded his feet against the ground faster than he thought possible. Syphir was soon a short distance ahead of him. The tutor and grandmother strove along bravely at a measured gait. Then the earth shook with incredible vigor, and all around structures fractured. A chunk of the manor calmly broke right off and fell to the ground with a phenomenally unimpressive boom. Then the earth shook again and rented a small chasm directly before Frent. His momentum only allowed him a moment of terror before he was forced to leap over it, stumbling on the other side. Syphir had fallen, and moaned even louder than the wind.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I’m done for,” he cried. “This is the end!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A panicked Frent dived over him and went sprawling.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Suddenly, Syphir stopped moaning, and managed to say just as there was a lull in the wind, “Who for the sake of all the dragons in Burnthede are you?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent turned around and beheld a young women in crisp brown attire reminiscent of a military uniform, which was complemented by a somewhat vigilant bearing. She stared at the both of them, water pouring off her very soggy hat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The tutor and Frent’s grandmother, having navigated the trench, stopped, panting, beside her. The rain swirled into their faces.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Why have we stopped running?!” yelled Frent with feeling. “Dear Gran, you must not catch your death!” A flash of lightning sent him flying forward with all speed again. The rain grew still more torrential, until it was an opaque flood of water whirling in the air. Frent and Syphir collided into a wall of the manor house at roughly the same time. As soon as they stopped running, their boots sank six inches into the mud.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Help!” yelled Frent. “Somebody save me! Help, I say! I’m drowning – I can’t get out!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Don’t panic, dear, dear fellow! The quicksand is yet quite weak.” Syphir yanked a boot out and fell on his back. “Ah, I’ve been killed! Cause of death: natural.” He closed his eyes. Water flooded into his nose and open mouth.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Syphir! Dear chum!” Frent struggled against the mud, successfully solidifying his trap and leaning against the wall in despair. But suddenly there was a shout and a legion of butlers crowded the scene, holding sturdy Burnthede umbrellas.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“There, there, young sir,” said Frent’s own particular butler. He was a very small man, but he had a firm hold on an unnervingly large umbrella.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Ah, Drir!” And that was all Frent could say, as he become consumed with manfully containing his emotions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Drir patted him firmly on the back and enlisted his fellow butler, a man named Hyke, more commonly known as “that absolute specimen of a fellow,” to fetch Frent from his doom, which the man did obligingly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The eight other butlers extracted Syphir from the ground, his drenched head lolling in such a way as to flawlessly display his acute pallor. The butlers began a long procession back to the front door.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Entrance hall, the manor on the pond.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I am as well as may be expected,” said Frent virtuously, with a small sniffle. “I beg you would tend to my dear friend, sir, for he is, I fear, quite faint.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Indeed?” said the physician with a chuckle, turning to the young man who lay on a table, his face like a muddy and soaked incarnation of death. “I prescribe rest, and I feel you both will be back on your chairs in hardly any time at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must examine the state of Lady Thunderer.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Bless my life,” cried Frent, rising onto one slightly plump elbow, “I had forgotten. Dear Gran has just survived a nasty head cold. Doctor, be certain to inspect her lungs. Quickly, man.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, quite.” The physician backed out of the room. A loud snort of laughter sounded just as he closed the door and all went silent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent looked surprised. “I say, did the man just laugh?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The line of apparently impassive butlers against the opposite wall made no move to answer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Frent, old friend,” said Syphir weakly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Syphir, you live!” Frent rolled to a seated position on his couch.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir coughed feebly. “For now, old friend. I think…” He breathed a shallow, urgent breath, and panted a little. “I think I’m growing stronger.” Tangible doubt was fixed on his words.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, no, no. Of course you are growing stronger.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Come closer, friend,” Syphir laughed quietly, “you are many miles away.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The butlers appeared even more impassive as Frent stumbled from his couch and rushed anxiously to Syphir’s side.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“We were good comrades, eh?” Syphir’s eyes moved feverishly, half shut.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The best, dear fellow. The very best.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Would you do me something, XI?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Anything, Syph, anything.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir breathed rapidly for a moment before taking a deep breath and settling. “Has – has<i> she </i>come in yet?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Who?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir’s eyes popped open for a brief second, before they closed and he became even more like death. “The one…in the rain.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, quite. No. We’ve lost her, rather. An army of domestics out looking for her.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I must join them.” Syphir made to rise, but Frent, much alarmed, pressed him back down. Syphir gave a little cry and closed his eyes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Nonsense, Syphir. Of course they’ll find her.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Would you do something for me, Frent?” he replied dreamily.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course, of course.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“If—” Syphir swallowed. “When they find her, would you – would you…” his voice trailed off and he exhaled.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Syphir! Quick, some—”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir’s limp hand reached out and touched his arm. “Would you tell her that I was…heroic. How I almost saved you…how I…” His breathing became regular and his arm dropped.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No! Syphir!” Frent reached out to shake him, but then stopped. “Oh, he’s sleeps.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The butlers clamped their jaws grimly and tried discretely to not look at the scene.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">At that precise moment, Frent heard the front door swing open and he heard a strange voice which he thought must belong to the young woman say, “Are you sure I may enter? I have no wish…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course,” replied the rather cross household tailor, “who gives a care to what happens around here? Get in and stay in. There’s my advice.” The door slammed shut and myriad footsteps approached the room. Syphir became utterly still. The door swung open and three dutiful members of the household escorted the woman inside. Frent rose grandly and bowed. “My lady. I welcome you to my father’s house of Thunderer. Pary, be seated next to the fire here. Terribly sorry about the weather. Usually mild this time of year. Please, think nothing of the fabric.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The woman crossed the room and sat in the chair. “Who is that on the table, just there?” she asked after a moment’s awkward silence.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent was amazed at his fair fortune in this excellent opportunity. As was Sylphir, if the way his breathing altered was any accurate indicator. Frent cleared his throat richly. “This is the most excellent fellow in all the world and a very dear chap. Poor brave soul. I’m told he almost saved my life, but he was just recently brought down very ill in a veritable mudslide.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The woman stared, before looking down at her hand and clenching it. “I am sorry for it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Return that reticule!” cried Syphir with a sudden wildness. “I say, stop there, thief!” He swung a fist flimsily. “There, there, dear lady. All in…” His voice lapsed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">To Frent’s horror, a butler quickly drew out a handkerchief and hiccuped.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent glared at him. “Fie, for shame! One should never do so with a lady present. I crave your indulgence in this matter, madam. Poor Fite. In a delirium, I think.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“A cough is really of no consequence.” The young woman in a preoccupied sort of way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent was dumbfounded. Any decent young lady should have been shocked and disgusted by such a display from one little more than a manservant. He fell silent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">It took quite a long moment of silence before the housekeeper arrived. She looked doubtfully at the young woman.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What would one call my lady?” she asked uncertainly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The young woman spent several moments staring at her before she said, “My name is Jasinta.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The housekeeper didn’t look gratified. “Well, you had better come with me.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta rose, and the housekeeper showed her through the door, maintaining some distance between their respective persons.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">When they were both gone, Frent turned back to Sylphir and was delighted to see that his eyes were open. “Ah, Syphir, you are better, I trust?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Did you note,” said Syphir, the strength of his voice much increased, “that this lady was a very handsome one?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I couldn’t say,” said Frent in mystified tones. “She wore a hat, you know.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes. Was her name mentioned in discourse, by chance?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, of course it was.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Let’s hear it, then.” Syphir stopped breathing and inclined his ear.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well now. Jascintha, I think it was.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Jasinta,” breathed Syphir.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That’s not – it does seem more like it, rather.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Why did they put me on a table, Ninth?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent pondered this for a moment. “Do you know, I haven’t the foggiest. I’m quite worn; I think I’m for a restful night. I beg you to excuse me.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course, of course,” said Syphir absently.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>11:40 at night. One of fourteen hallways, the manor on the pond.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The former and incognito Lady Nutberry, whose wealth and eminence had been brought low by her now imprisoned husband’s unfortunate tendency to speculate, shuffled up the Thunderer hallway, carrying an impressive stack of bedclothes. Her thoughts were on the main in some way related to the practical application of stoicism. Accordingly, she was much alarmed when she thought she heard a human sniffle.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What’s this?” (For she had developed a strong habit of talking to herself in learning the ways of Zeno and his followers.) “I didn’t think anybody was sick.” She stopped walking and listened very hard indeed. And there! Another sniffle. From the door just ahead to the right, she thought. A guest room, and not the best of them. She crept forward, wondering how much sympathy was desirable in a stoic proper.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">But there it was: an unmistakable sob – a frustrated one. Lady Nutberry widened her eyes at the violation of her dearly held philosophy. But then her eyes started to water a bit due to her great natural tenderness.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Lady Nutberry pondered for a few moments. A young lady in tears and not a young lady she had ever heard cry before. There was a sense of loss, it seemed, in the sound, but also something deeper that was beyond Lady Nutberry’s power to place.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Poor dear,” she whispered. She watched in horror as her own compassionate hand reached towards the door. Yes, she had been brought up in a family of nine children, and five of their number melancholy in temperament, and all her cousins frequently in despair; her experience in these matters was very great, but should she knock? Her nature urged her to do it, but propriety and solid Burnthede sense prevailed against the notion. At long last, she thought seriously against it, and turned to leave, with a compassionate sniff of her own.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Inside the room, Jasinta turned back to the window, relieved and deep in thought. She shakily took the windowsill and looked out over the grounds. The storm ceased.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Late morning. The breakfast hall, the manor on the pond.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The honorable Geoffrey F. Thunderer XIV laid down his newspaper, in his haste nearly upsetting his ceremonial cup of tea.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What?” he demanded.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A man framed in the doorway fingered the pair of gloves he held in his hand and pressed some papers more firmly into his side with his arm. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, sir, but the state of your accounts demands it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The state of my – what are you babbling about, man?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Just this. I have received reports from the Northbound Railway Company and from the Tunless National Housing Company and from the Central Burn—well, in short, sir, from all your several financial interests.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Go on, sir.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">He pulled out a sheet of paper. “‘Dear sir…et cetera et cetera…We, the select committee of finance at the Northbound Railway Company, beg leave to inform you concerning certain unfortunate events that have unfolded, not of an unnatural nature or of those contrived by man, but as violent as they are common.’” He paused.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey Thunderer paled. “Well?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I’m afraid this missive is of similar meaning to the others. It goes on to say that the company is bankrupt and all shares are lost indefinitely, with no pending reimbursement.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Impossible. How?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That is not the worst of it, sir. You had a considerable sum in all of these companies and they were yielding very lucratively. Unfortunately, any one of them failing would be a blow to your coffers, sir.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Bother them all,” growled Geoffrey.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Compounded, the blow is tenfold. I have drawn some preliminary calculations and I fear the net loss to the estate numbers in the many thousands.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What—?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Possibly some millions.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Millions? That’s absurd.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The other man swallowed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well. Am I penniless and a pauper now, is that it?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Not quite a pauper, sir. With certain small economies, your finances may recover quite reasonably in five or six years.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Discharge my staff, you mean?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Not all of them, sir. I have taken the liberty of preparing myself and my various effects for immediate departure, for I constitute an annual expense of an exorbitant nature.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What? You are staying here, man. I’d rather have you around than exotic pears. Ah, yes, and on that topic, today I no longer have a say in exotic pears, for my son is inheriting and he very dearly loves exotic pears.” Geoffrey leaned back with thoughtful nobility.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I had wondered when we might come to that subject, sir.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I had wholly and comprehensively forgotten until just now, I must admit.” Geoffrey continued looking thoughtful and waved the other man to a chair. The said other man sat and joined him in his thoughtfulness.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Afternoon. The breakfast hall, the manor on the pond.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Drir, particular butler to Frent Thunder IX, entered the room cheerfully, looking briefly at the two men sitting on opposite sides of the breakfast table, each with crossed legs and a thoughtful countenance gazing at the wall about the doorway.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Sir,” said the butler.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey spent quite a while focusing on him, before raising his eyebrows interrogatively.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Shall I wake Master Frent for the ceremony?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, quite. Ha ha ha.” Geoffrey coughed. “Yes, do. And have the domestics congregate.”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>The chambers of Frent Thunderer, the manor.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What utter bliss!” cried Frent as Drir grimly wrestled him into a cravet. “I, a great lord and possessor of a fair and goodly estate. What bliss!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Drir roughly straightened Frent’s coat, and Frent finally fell silent, gazing at the effect he produced in the mirror.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Do I look well?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, sir, I think so.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Where is that excellent fellow Syphir?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“His sisters came to fetch him by carriage this early morning.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Ah, what a pity. Still ill, then?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“His sisters thought so.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I hope he’ll recover.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The doctor thought so.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Ah, good. I am ready; let us go down.” He departed the room with ceremony.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>One of two Great Halls, the manor on the pond.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">When Frent arrived downstairs at least two minutes later, it was to a room crowded with bowing and bobbing servants. His father stood at the other side of the room with Frent’s grandmother at his right and the tutor at his left. The sun shone through the stained glass windows behind them majestically. Frent stepped forward.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“My son,” said Geoffrey, “Frent Thunderer IX, last and only heir of my house, I do name you the master of this estate and the possessor thereof. Red is our house for the blood of our ancestors as it spilled for their own greed, and like a wave did those forefathers surge upon opposing forces with gluttonous strength and false bravery.” He thrust forward a lengthy roll of legal paper.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent took it and held it limply, looking puzzled. “Usually the red and the wave sounds a little more glorious than that.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey laughed. “I have no more to do with this house, and I will degrade it as I please.” He cleared his throat. “Leave us alone.” The servants, after the wisest among them deciphered that he was talking to them, dispersed rapidly into other rooms and vanished from sight and hearing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Was that the fullness of the ceremony?” said Frent, not a little disappointed. “Is there not to be a feast of olives and the finest meat of Kels? And several colonial dancers playing lutes and…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You can have all of that if you like. I am leaving instantly.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Perhaps that’s just as well,” said Frent as bitingly as he was able, “since you so ostensibly have no thought for your son.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Something darkened in Geoffrey’s eyes, and he turned away. Immediately there was a terrible din and an enormous pendulum clock leaped toward him. Frent watched in fascinated disbelief and horror as his father turned and punched it, somehow splitting it into myriad bits that flew about the room. He then turned back at Frent and terrible was his face as he raised a hand at him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I say there, Pater!” said Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A streak of gray tore across the room and solidly grasped Geoffrey’s leg in a tiny, ferocious maw. Geoffrey looked down in horror.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Lorry,” he breathed, “I must go.” He turned and walked out the door toward a waiting carriage. His cat trotted after him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I am confused dreadfully,” said Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That is what happens to our family,” said his grandmother. “We hold a great power and makes slaves of ourselves through it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What’s that?” inquired Syphir, popping in through a door Frent didn’t know existed. Frent jumped, tripped, and crashed his head against an umbrella stand.<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Evening. The sun parlor, the manor on the pond.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">When he came to some time later, it was to several indecipherable faces swimming in his vision and a harsh, annoying voice repeating, “Give the man some air! A little air, I say.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, I beg,” agreed Frent before again falling into darkness.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">His second revival went much better and occurred shortly thereafter. He had been placed on a table and the doctor was nearby laughing solidly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Ho ho ho, my boy,” he said. “Ho ho ho!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Kindly do not laugh, sir,” murmured Frent. “I am an injured man.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Now you see how it feels,” said Syphir cheerfully. “All charm departs, and remain only the bleakest and cruelest of images in the mind to represent this unhallowed world.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You survived, I take it,” said Frent as the doctor helped his limp body into a seated position.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I did. Survived and recovered in a single lonely night. It put a little character into my heart. I vow it did.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The doctor made his way to the opposite wall and started helping himself to small amounts of brandy between guffaws.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I am now the lord of the estate,” said Frent when he remembered the fact.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, excellent! Top quality, old thing. Any money to spare yet?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, absolute loads, I imagine.” Frent sprang up and began pacing, though his head throbbed more than he cared for. “Did you see the way Father raced off? Bit of a shock, really.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yea, for all the world like a gentleman with bad debt, leaping clock and all.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Bad debt!” said Frent, paling. “’Tis false fancy, man, I’m rich! Say there, did you see the clock – not a trick of the light, then?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Far from, I should say! Upwards like a…great goblins, is that my Aunt Eldritch peeking in through that window?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent looked. He saw no one. “I had no idea you had an Aunt Eldritch.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I don’t and I doubt if I ever did,” said Syphir. “However, the countenance of the apparition demanded such a nomenclature.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Did it so? What say you, doctor?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The doctor had sunk against the wall in a solid snooze. Frent looked uneasily at the window and saw a glint of gold – no, of golden monocle. Beyond that he saw just the faintest outline of a wizened old man seeming to glare at him. No, definitely glaring, and definitely an old man. Frent’s jaw went slack in horror. He knew in that moment that he could have claimed on oath that the man was his perfectly nonexistent second cousin Ertle Pigheart.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That’s disgusting,” he said as the vision faded, “my throat constricts at the thought.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What’s that, Ninth?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Pigheart! The horror of the association strikes me dumb and powerless. No civilized man should think of such a thing.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I beg, sir, that you would make yourself quite clear, for I fear you have called me pigheart and named me as such a person as might emphasize my own qualities as being those of a terrible or yet shocking associate.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Nay, sir. I spoke not of you, but of an apparition that I just – aaaaaaaaah!” Frent sprang towards where the door normally was, having seen something beyond any description of terror. The door had vanished, and the room filled with shadows. There was a soft tap at one of the windows.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What is the meaning of this?” cried Syphir with all the affronted dignity he could muster.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Drir!” yelled Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Drir came, seeming to burst through the wall before standing tall and formal and saying, “You called, sir?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Look at this! Look out those windows! Quickly, man! Quick!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Drir bent impressively and gazed out a window before remarking, “Ah, yes.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I saw my dear Uncle Jesse, sir.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And do you have any such relative?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, sir, I cannot recall that I do.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“So you see how it is.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes, sir, if I might make so bold, it is simply a side effect of an imbalance in magic. It will right itself shortly.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A bony fist slammed against another window and slid painfully out of sight.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Suddenly, Frent’s tutor burst through the wall in a bit of a rage. “What’s all this?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Magic, sir,” said Drir.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Nonsense,” said Frent. “What rubbish is this? If there was magic in <i>our</i> family, I think I would have known it. It is a joke, sirs, and poorly played.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Shut your mouth,” said the tutor, not unkindly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent did not take it well. “What did you say, sir?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I need to listen.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Why, sir?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Because, sir, I am your instructor and therefore wise in these matters, sir.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Ah, yes. Beg your pardon, sir.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And it is freely granted, sir.” The tutor drew in a breath. “Now, there is most certainly magic in your family, and your father did not do the thing properly at all.” An enormously rugged and lordly knight twirled his fine mustachios outside before bursting in a cloud of wasps the color of blood. “For some reason, your father told <i>me</i> to explain things to you – because I am your family’s wizard, I suppose – here’s the explanation: Your ancestor gained a great power in 1236 during the Eastern War, purloined from peasants or some such nonsense, I’ve heard. End of story. Done.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“A great power?” said Frent. “Astonishing. You’re the family wizard? I am astonished.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A door opened and a little-known manservant bowed his way in. “Good evening, sir. There is a fairly pugnacious robber near the western entrance.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"> Frent sprang up indignantly. “Robbers, indeed!” he exclaimed. “I’ll see them settled.” He dived to a concealed cupboard behind a couch and drew forth several hunting rifles, passing each of them to Drir.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A better-known manservant burst into the room. “Murder!” he cried. “Murder of terrible degree. We’re all being slaughtered!” They all rushed back the way he had come, where faint cries and solid thumps could be heard and then a great riotous cheer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The scene they came upon was an interesting one. There was a ring of servants about the room, with Frent’s grandmother at one end, hand stretched out like an orator from a bygone age. Still nearer the middle of the room was nothing visible at first, but further inspection and a better vantage point soon revealed a sturdy footman brawling with a strange and unkempt man who had a knife.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Cease this at once!” said Frent richly. “Are these not my lands? Foot, cast off thy assailant. Come, man, with speed!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Foot, with truly laudable effort, raised himself up and the second belligerent with him, and cast the latter off, and great was his fall.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The servants cheered in wild approval.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Aw, easy does, cove,” the apparent burglar rubbed his leg gingerly. “You’ve done and given me a bruise and battering and all. What’s in it for you, I asks? And I don’t know! Here’s me, a respectable bur—”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Bite thy tongue, fellow,” cried Frent with ardor, “or I’ll have my man strike it for thee!” He pointed to an ambulatory stack of enormous hunting rifles that was Drir. Drir at that moment accepted yet another rifle from the gardener, who passed it over to him with great enthusiasm and a wink.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent adjusted his lapels. “Well, <i>sir</i>, speak.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The man looked puzzled. “I’d say you’ve spoke pretty harsh to me. But I lets it slide. I reckons that is how I survives this life. Slide and let slide. We’re all slidin’ the same way. ’Cept you get the burial and we all gets the Kesley.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“He’s clearly mad,” stated Frent with classical authority. “Well, speak, man, what were you after? Fetch the constabulary, boots, see how he takes that.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I wasn’t after nothing in particular, and I ain’t no canny thief either. I’ve always hoped to pop in here’bouts, and with the old boy gone, I says, ‘Well, bless’d soul, better now than never,’ so in myself comes without a by-your-leave. Worked fair decent too, ’til I were jumped by savages and what do you like. And here’s me with news you might like to hear. I saw another thief, I reckon, better slicked than myself and all, and that clever dog fell from the roof in the form of an eagle if I was ter be boiled!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Where did he go?” Frent demanded.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Ha! Weren’t no he.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“All right, then. What did she go?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What’s the information worth, when we comes close by it? All the sames, since I’m a dootful citizen of her majesty the queen, may her eyebrows endure ’til she again plucks ’em, I’ll tell you where the reprobate headed after. Down the road, ’twas, as per the natural and right. By the by, she said you should follow her to a well.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The tutor was off in no time, calling loudly for a cab. He turned around at the door and yelled, “Master Frent, you must come.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent, a bit rumpled at being called ‘master’ at this time of life, nevertheless came with some pomp to the doorway. Syphir sprang to his side.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I know in my heart it was Jasinta,” he said reverently.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, so she said,” stated the intruder.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The tutor called loudly for a cab a second time, an effort that was incidentally rewarded as two horses yanked a golden carriage around the building with none other than Frent’s grandmother holding the reigns. Frent was so shocked and ashamed that he utterly forgot his presumed lordly manner and had to be forced, silent and witless, into the carriage, before the party started off with all speed and the tutor bellowing, “To the well!”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>The end of the first avenue, Fanny’s Square upon the Bones, Branwyn suburbs.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey F. Thunderer stood near a tall tree in the suburbs of the great city Branwyn, the bustling and busy center of Burnthede. Lorry had a firm paw splayed against his lapel and was upside down, gazing at the great Pillar of Burnthede in the distance. Geoffrey laughed and stroked the cat’s nose, and was immediately latched onto by unrelenting teeth. A hansom came into view and Geoffrey, having no hands left at his disposal, shouted, “Oi!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The cab stopped and the driver looked most perturbed. “Sir?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey crossed over to him. “I—”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Begging your pardon, not seeming to be rude, is that a cat?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Indeed, it is, sir. A fine little chap called Lorry.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Lorry finally released his finger, which was surprisingly unmarked.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“And, craving your indulgence,” continued the driver, “did I hear some chappie over near your direction cry ‘oi’ or was…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I did so. But now, if you should direct your cab to the most desperate and lowly place in her majesty's Burnthede, I should be much obliged.” Geoffrey jumped lightly into the cab.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“It’s not a sight I would wish for your eyes, sir,” observed the cabby. “But I do as my passengers please. Walk on!” The horses obeyed and the man continued, “Aye, many’s the time I’ve juggled and walked tightropes and all.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Just drive, if you please, good fellow.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Just so, sir.”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>The beginning of the third avenue, Fanny’s Square upon the Bones.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Gran has a taken a wrong turn,” yelled Frent, jerking out of sleep and venturing a look outside a window. “This is the city.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“The suburbs, dear fellow,” said Syphir, who was quite at his leisure and looking more comfortable every passing minute. “I have here several young cherries. Do you want one?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“No, thank you,” said Frent gloomily. “I want to see that well.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I could handle a cherry, sir,” said the tutor. “Cherries are ever my greatest temptation and affliction, and I don’t like to be deficit for long.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I imagine I could spare one.” Syphir passed him seven.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The coach went nearer the town, and the streets became narrower, the buildings taller and drearier, and everything darker.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, deplorable part of town!” cried Frent, putting a handkerchief to his nose.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“These are the merest outskirts,” declared Syphir. “I live near here.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What!” cried Frent. “Impossible!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Not at all! I was bred in the gloom, yet I bring sunshine wherever I walk, anytime I wish to bring it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Just then, the carriage stopped. The tutor took possession of Frent’s window and used it with great pallor of face. “This is not desirable,” he stated, stumbling toward door. “An ambush, I think. Get to the floor.” He came crashing down, slipping on Syphir’s shoe.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“We must save grandmother!” whimpered Frent. “She has a quarter inch always., but it only has two bullets. Why are we being ambushed, anyway?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Give ’em a bloody salt, lads,” cried a nearby voice. “Halt! Who’s that old lady up there, a-sleeping on her conker? She has a b’eautful pea-blaster, ’pon my several oaths.” There was an ear-splitting blast and the immediate smell of smoke. Frent paled.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Here—!” cried somebody else, just as something crashed into the roof. There were several shots and a horrible metallic scraping, followed by the cries of men and a roar like thunder. All went silent and the carriage jiggled. Suddenly, there was another shot, and something thudded heavily against the side of the carriage. There was no more sound. The three men looked at each other with ashen faces.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“So much for Burnthede courage,” said Syphir weakly. “Look at us. Will you look at the sopping lot of us?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The tutor pushed past them, rather red in the face, and tried the handle of the door. “It won’t open. Frent, try the other.” Frent did and it opened right in the face of a police inspector. Frent closed it again. “The law’s out there.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Of course—” began the others. “Oh,” they finished.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Somebody knocked on the door. Frent opened it again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” said the inspector, “my humble gratitude. A spot of trouble here?” Behind him, two heavily cloaked figures were sprawled against a house, smoke rising from around them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Rather,” said the tutor, pushing past Frent. “We were ambushed!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The inspector smiled. “Fine day for it. Why don’t the lot of you step down and introduce yourselves properly. Interesting blighters, I can tell. My name is Inspector Rigglesford, and you’re not like to meet a more understanding and kindly soul in all the third. Sector, that is, if you take my meaning.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">They all dismounted and introduced themselves formally, looking around. It was a blackened and shocking scene. A third person was lying on the road a little ways ahead at the end of a trail of soot.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The inspector began walking around the carriage. “Let’s have a look back here. All in a day’s work.” He went around the carriage with the tutor, Frent, and Syphir all following him. Many more members of the assailing party were revealed as they rounded the corner.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, this is flustering,” Rigglesford announced. Syphir danced around Rigglesford and gasped, falling to his knees and looking quite ill. They rest of the group followed. Sitting against the carriage was the woman they had met in the sudden rainstorm, quite pale and apparently passed out. Nearby, a small fire was burning, apparently fueled by her erstwhile hat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I say!” said Frent. “It’s her. I think she’s been shot. Look, blood!” His head felt a bit queer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir fell further to the ground in acute distress. The inspector produced a small case. “Who was she?” He said gravely.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I don’t know – did you say…?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The inspector walked forward and knelt by her, retrieving a quantity of bandages from his case and a bottle of some sparkling green liquid. By the time he had finished, the street had grown quite a bit darker.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well,” he said, “she has a chance, anyway. Not like to bleed out. Now, I wonder…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta suddenly awoke. “I am perfectly well,” she said, and she tried to rise.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I have many years of experience in these matters, and in my professional opinion, you are not perfectly well, ma’am.” The inspector tugged at his collar. “In fact, you can count yourself rather lucky.” He stood up. “Now, I was just saying, you should be taken to a great doctor I know who practices here.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta breathed carefully and winced. “I don’t require any doctors.” She tried to rise again but only set off several weak coughs, and she fell back.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Careful there, miss,” said the inspector, “don’t go a-banging your head if it can be helped. If you won’t see any doctors, than what shall we do? Do you have family nearby, yes?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta again tried to rise, and this time, as the inspector grimaced and gesticulated (and finally offered his hand to help), she managed to push herself up against the carriage.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Whyyyyyy—?” moaned the inspector. “You might start bleeding again.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta pressed herself closer to the carriage dizzily. “I might.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The tutor stepped forward with many a bow. “I have some small skill in the art of healing. As the case is, I have on my person two beneficial healing potions.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The police inspector looked chagrined. “I like to think you could have mentioned that earlier.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, what can one do?” said the tutor philosophically, drawing forth two vials. He gave them to Jasinta. She looked at them blankly, before she smiled at the tutor and drank them both. At that moment, Syphir sprang up and Frent’s grandmother, jerking awake, sprang down.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Well, what is all—?” the latter began. “Oh. I thought I saw somebody falling from the sky. Good evening – Jasinta, I think?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yes. Good evening.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir glided toward Jasinta. “Ah, madam!” He had adopted the most atrocious accent. “If you were to assure me of your well-being and comfort?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I am well and moderately comfortable.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Joy springs like a river from my heart.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“That’s a medical malady, that is,” said the inspector, shaking a pencil. He looked around at the scattered hooded folks. “Now, what’s all this? Oh, never mind, don’t tell me. I see it all clearly. You are on some sort of quest – expedition of sorts – you are riding in your carriage; the carriage is ambushed. Supernatural aid comes falling from the sky – that’s you, miss. Ah, yes, quite clear now. All in a day’s…I have in my mind that I haven’t heard the end of this. Well, you’d better get on with your expedition.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent finally found his self-possession and voice. “How did you know we were on one?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Heh. Move along.” He snapped his fingers in what was possibly the best and loudest snap ever heard in that quarter of the suburbs and the fallen ambush party became individually bound in red glows. Their arms snapped behind them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Good day, madam, madam, sir, sir, and sir.” Inspector Rigglesford tipped his hat and vanished, his apparent prisoners with him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Hm,” pouted Frent immediately, letting out a great breath of relief.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta fell into Erstella, who quickly caught her and helped her to the carriage, but Jasinta recovered and slipped away from it. “We can’t ride to the well.” She was breathing heavily.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What is this nonsense?” asked Frent. “Whoever heard of not being able to ride? And why are you here, anyway?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I had to come and save you,” groaned Jasinta. “It’s generally not wise to attack me, as you can see. But I only meant to be shot once.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You really ought to sit down,” said Frent’s grandmother.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Jasinta shook her head. “We need to move along.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“What shall we do with the carriage if…” began Frent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The horses whinnied and turned around, and they trotted back homewards with the carriage in tow.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Now,” said Jasinta, “we can walk.” She began and the others quickly followed her. Frent’s face grew long.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I never walk,” he said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Syphir yawned airily. “I could walk miles any day. I perceive you are an enchantress of unmatched strength, miss.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"> Jasinta nodded. “Yes.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Yet, you are not, I think, from Burnthede.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“True, I am not.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“You also dislike the practice of the noble sport of shooting, I perceive.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Very much.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“As do I. The more I think about it, the less I can suffer the horrible art.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Frent blinked. “My dear fellow, you are ever eager to rifle at the—”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Sir, pray realize that I may gradually and wisely change my mind.”<o:p></o:p></p><h2>Evening. Gills Boulevard, Park Circa Sum, Branwyn.<o:p></o:p></h2><p class="UnindentedTextBody" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The deep parts of Branwyn were horribly dark. A thick fog rolled swirled about on the ground, and Lorry hissed at it. People pushed past energetically, as if hoping to escape as soon as possible. Lorry hissed at them too.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I feel quite the same, old fellow,” murmured Geoffrey Thunderer. “There’s a nasty stale magic about here, or I’m a rodent.” Lorry looked at him with new interest. “How do people see in this?” He pressed on and turned a corner into a narrow street. There was an orange, flickering ambiance here, and shifty-looking folks slipped along in the shadows. There were several beggars huddled behind this traffic. One man held up a hand as Geoffrey walked slowly along.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I say there, gov. Stop a moment, will yer?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Gladly, good sir.” Geoffrey turned aside.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">The fellow looked up. He was an old fellow, and he possessed quite a kind smile. “To business, sir. You observe here two hats – fine hats once upon a time, but now average or dilapidated hats. This one is my hat. This one is also my hat. But this latter hat I keep for my sister. Sometimes, gentlemen such as yourself walk down here and cast a copper or a little Sally in one or two of these hats, and then I thank them with graces and airs and continue living.” He blinked expectantly and coughed with many a gasp and much wheezing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey drew forth copious monies and split them somewhat evenly between the two hats. The other man appeared to be delighted. “There a pretty thing to shine in your eye! I could set up as a pawnbroker with this and to spare, if I live cheap.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. “Can you really?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Oh, yes, of course, if I’m shrewd. I am shrewd, but you, I perceive, sir, if you don’t mind me saying, are not shrewd. Gents like you don’t belong down here, I’m thinking. And now, since you’ve been so kind, I’ll inform you to sommat. I ain’t got a sister, and I never has one that I know of which, and at the end of the day, which is coming here quite shortly, I take her hat and I take to mingling until all that is in her hat is in my hat and then I take that hat and there’s my bread and flagon.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“I see,” said Geoffrey.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“Thought you might likes to know, but you’d best not linger about here. A sight and a half past sundown. I suggest you go up there and see a bit of sunshine again. Cheer your spirits. I thank ye, sir.” He looked down and seemed to merge with the shadows behind him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Geoffrey petted Lorry, who looked at him pensively. “We have a deal of work ahead of us, L.” The cat mewed.<o:p></o:p></p>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-6632738361166531672020-06-22T03:25:00.000-04:002020-06-22T03:25:08.196-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "Amelia Josephine and the Finding of Great-Grandpapa" -- by Abigail Leskey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Amelia Josephine and the Finding of Great-Grandpapa<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">By Abigail Leskey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> My name is Amelia Josephine Wilbanks, and I am seven years and four months old, and last March I found my great-grandpapa, who had disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I didn’t know that I had a great-grandpapa who had disappeared, until last Christmas. Indeed, I didn’t know that I had one at all. But last Christmas, Papa gave me a pocketwatch that he said Great-Grandpapa had given Grandpapa on Christmas when Grandpapa was eight, and that Grandpapa had given Papa on Christmas when Papa was eight. I am Papa’s only child; Mamma went to Heaven when I was a baby. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> The pocketwatch is golden, like my hair, and has purple velvet inside it, like my favorite muff, so I am immensely fond of it. The day after Christmas, I was trying to make it fit in the pockets of my dollies’ frocks when it occurred to me that I had never met my great-grandpapa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I asked Papa at dinner, “Papa, is Great-Grandpapa in Heaven?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> Papa drank out of the wrong side of his moustache cup. “I don’t know, my dear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I also asked about Great-Grandpapa in January and in February, but in January Papa said he needed to balance his accounts, and in February he told me not to ask about Great-Grandpapa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">In March, Papa told me that he wished to take me to visit his Aunt Maud. I had never met Aunt Maud, but I had heard that when she was fifteen she stole a diamond earring from Aunt Victoria and that when she was twenty-six she jilted her fiancé. I put Great-Grandpapa’s pocketwatch in my dolly Violet’s pocket and held her on my lap as we rode in our carriage for twenty-four miles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Twenty minutes after three, we trotted into Aunt Maud’s drive. Her house is stone and has three towers and pointed windows. I think it should have purple velvet curtains and purple pennants on the towers; when I grow up and marry and have a house, it will have purple curtains and pennants. But Aunt Maud’s house has no pennants, and its curtains are black brocade. She does not understand that everything ought to be purple. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Aunt Maud wears black silk and frowns, and the hairpins in her bun look as if she is hoarding them there until she catches a butterfly. She told me to sit in the parlor and be good. I took Violet into the parlor and showed her all of the portraits on the walls, naming them after the kings and queens of England since I did not know their names. Some of them looked like Papa; I named them after the Hanoverans, since Papa’s name is George. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Then I eavesdropped. “You’ve asked me if I have a notion where he is before, George.” Aunt Maud said. “I do not!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Papa said something I could not hear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“No, I will not help fund the search!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The search? I wondered whom they were looking for (or rather, whom Papa was looking for and Aunt Maud was <i>not</i> looking for) while we had tea. Aunt Maud did not let me have sugar cubes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> When the sun began setting, making the sky purple and orange, Aunt Maud conducted me to a room with walls covered in black and grey wallpaper, which would have been prettier if it were purple wallpaper. The room had a bed with bedposts and a grey toile coverlet. “Your Papa will be in the room beside yours,” Aunt Maud enunciated. She patted my head and strode into the hallway and away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I said my prayers and went to bed, where I told Violet a story about a beautiful lady with purple eyes who fell in love with a ghost. I fell asleep after he proposed to her while floating beside a lilac bush. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">And then I woke up. In the moonlight, I opened Great-Grandpapa’s pocketwatch and saw that it was midnight. I had always wanted to walk at midnight and see a ghost, but my house is not haunted, and I had never woken up at midnight in a different house before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I put the pocketwatch into Violet’s pocket again, put on my purple satin slippers, and quietly walked out of my room and into the dark hallway. It had a dark, creaking floor, a dark ceiling, and hair-wreaths in frames on the walls. The glass that protected the hair reflected Violet and me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I saw no ghosts in the hallway, but when I opened the door at the end of the hallway and found a staircase, I climbed it because hope springs eternal: ghosts might be upstairs. I held tightly to the rail as I ascended, because one time I fell down the stairs and broke my favorite dolly before Violet, Hydrangea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> At the top of the stairs were two doors. I opened one of them and could not see what was inside; there was no moonlight in it. I reached in with my left hand and beside the door I felt a shelf with glass jars on it. I wondered why there was a pantry upstairs. Was the other room an upstairs kitchen? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I unlatched the other door and pushed it inward, and gasped. A ghost! In front of a fireplace stood an old gentleman who looked like Grandpapa. “Grandpapa?” I whispered. “Why are you haunting Aunt Maud’s upstairs?” I had wanted to see a ghost, but I hadn’t wanted the ghost to be my grandpapa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> Bald on top, and wearing his night-shirt backwards, the old gentleman looked at me and smiled. “Mary, you should be in bed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I walked closer to him. “I’m not Mary, Grandpapa. I’m Amelia, and this is Violet.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> He reached out to pat my cheek, smiling affectionately at me. His hand was warm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> “Oh!” I exclaimed. This old gentleman wasn’t Grandpapa’s ghost—he was Great-Grandpapa! “Papa will be overjoyed, Great-grandpapa! He’s been looking for you! I wonder why Aunt Maud didn’t know you were living—” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> Great-Grandpapa shook his head. “Maudie is unkind. She says I mayn’t go for strolls.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I gaped as I apprehended that Aunt Maud must have kidnapped him! I needed to take him to Papa, or take Papa to him! I was about to ask him to come with me to Papa’s room, but then I realized he might fall down the stairs. Before I could ask if I might fetch Papa, Great-Grandpapa bent and pulled the pocketwatch out of Violet’s pocket. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> “Mary, I’ve told you not to play with this,” he said gently, reaching over his shoulder to put it in his backwards nightshirt’s pocket. I realized that he must not be in his right mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> “I’m sorry, Great-Grandpapa,” I apologized. “May I fetch Papa to see you? He misses you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> Great-Grandpa looked confused, but he said, “Of course, my dear.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> I handed Violet to him, and ran down the stairs and down the hallway and knocked on Papa’s door. “Papa! Papa! Papa! Wake up!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> Papa thumped across the creaky floor, and then he opened the door, his moustache very disordered. “Amelia! Is there a mouse in your room?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> “No, Papa! I found Great-Great-Grandpapa living upstairs with a pantry and his night-shirt is on backwards!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> Papa blinked. “You dreamt, Amelia.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">I shook my head. “Truly, Papa! He took my pocketwatch, and says Aunt Maud won’t let him stroll, and he looks like Grandpapa!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Papa’s eyes became as big as saucers. He grabbed hold of the doorframe, and then ran past me and down the hallway towards the stairs. I followed him up the stairs, bouncing a little. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Great-Grandpapa looked at Papa with a smile. “Benson!” (Grandpapa was named Benson.) Papa stared at him for a moment and then threw his arms around him, and Great-Grandpapa embraced him too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> Now Aunt Maud lives in Connecticut, and Great-Grandpapa lives with Papa and me. He gave me my pocketwatch as a present, a week after we brought him home, and he tells me stories about when he was a little boy pretending to be a general fighting American rebels and he pretended it was a snuff box, and about when he was a naval lieutenant and dropped it in the ocean and jumped overboard to regain it. He says that the ship he jumped from was purple, and the carpet he played on was purple too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-34386053291001988182020-06-20T16:01:00.000-04:002020-06-20T16:01:42.971-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "The Lonely Heir" -- by Shine<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tqpvy3ZiVrw/XuXKThY78OI/AAAAAAAADWI/MuRhK1jUNEgdCYQe45MQumuQ6h2wFacXgCK4BGAsYHg/s700/lonelyheircover.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="434" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tqpvy3ZiVrw/XuXKThY78OI/AAAAAAAADWI/MuRhK1jUNEgdCYQe45MQumuQ6h2wFacXgCK4BGAsYHg/s320/lonelyheircover.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: cambria, serif;">By Shine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: cambria, serif;">They had said that you would get an inheritance when your parents die. Well, it came true, and you were all alone with an old mansion that had been in the family for many generations, and you had other problems to face. People constantly tell you to sell the mansion, with all the things in it, and the property, and go find a new home to be a normal person. </span><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: cambria, serif;">"Just sell this heap of junk and buy a different home! Sell your old antiques for money! They're all rubbish anyway!" People would say to you, but you had always ignored them. Even when it hurts you so much in deciding what to do with your life. </span><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: cambria, serif;">Whenever you were alone, you would look at the stuff and the mansion. It still needed to be fixed, but sleepless nights with nightmares of loneliness kept you up all night with heart wrenching tears of despair. Everything hurts. You often wished that you were with your parents when the time came, but no, the time took your parents away from you, leaving you alone to face many things. </span><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: cambria, serif;">"I wish I was dead! Then, I wouldn't have so many problems to deal with, and I wouldn't be so alone! The people out there threaten me over this old mansion!" You complained in rage, throwing rocks at your once antique flower pots and other pottery. You didn't care as you were so angry with mixed feelings. </span><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: cambria, serif;">After you finished your steaming rant, you grabbed the boxes from the basement and the attic, and started shoving your family's stuff in them, so you can forget most of the stuff, but when it came to your favorite books and toys (that were handed down from generations), you couldn't bear to put them into the box. The same with your old baby stuff sitting in the old nursery, collecting layers of dust and cobwebs, so you left your childhood things in your old room, and shoved the other things into the basement, leaving the remaining things in the attic. You had to deal with them later when you were more mentally and emotionally stable. </span><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: cambria, serif;">You stared at your old hand-me-down Bible from your parents and their parents and so forth. You couldn't bear the idea of putting that away forever, no matter how old and falling apart it was, you had to keep it with you at all times. You had nowhere to go and no one to talk to, so you felt very alone. Like the last person left on earth, waiting for your time to come to reunite with your family. </span><span style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-16421999897974806082020-06-18T06:48:00.000-04:002020-06-18T06:48:09.735-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "Familiae Spiritu" -- by Hazel West<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Familiae Spiritu<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">By Hazel B. West<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">It was a curious thing, Jonathan thought, how it always seemed to rain at funerals. Perhaps it was how mother nature showed her own respect for the dead. Either way, it was cold and miserably gloomy, not the least of which because he was standing over his grandfather’s grave.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Only last week Jonathan Harrington had been called back from school, requested for his grandfather’s failing health and soon after, the man had passed on, leaving a legacy and a large house, not to mention a large fortune.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan didn’t care about the inheritance. He had just wanted to see his grandfather one last time, be able to talk to him. But even that had been impossible, for the old man hadn’t woken before he died, passing on before Jonathan could properly say goodbye. He knew that as far as the inheritance went, his father or uncle would get the house, anyway. He just missed his grandfather. Memories of his childhood, sitting on the weathered man’s knee as he was regaled with stories of the elder’s adventures that now, looking back at it, Jonathan found a little hard to believe, but to the lonely boy, they were like precious gold and had turned Jonathan toward his own current studies in archelogy and anthropology. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> As the attendees started to peel away to dryer and warmer surroundings, Jonathan found himself to be the only one left at the grave, aside from the grave diggers filling in the hole that would bury his grandfather. At least he thought they were the only other ones there until he looked up and saw a figure standing a little bit away, likely having been lingering at the back of the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan frowned as he tried to place the man. He wore a dark mackintosh with the collar pulled high, and his hat pulled low so Jonathan couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t recognize him at all. Perhaps he was a distant relative. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the man was watching him though.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A cold drop of water found its way into Jonathan’s collar and slid down his neck, making him shiver. He took a deep breath and turned away from the strange man, back to his grandfather’s grave. He gave a small salute and pulled his sodden wool coat more firmly around him and, frozen hands shoved into his pockets, he moved to join the rest of the family inside before his mother sent someone to fetch him. He turned back one last time, compelled to look at the strange man again, but found that he was gone as if he had never been there in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The reading of his grandfather’s will would occur that evening and Jonathan wished he could be anywhere else. The last way he wanted to remember his beloved grandfather was by watching his surviving relations glare daggers and plot murder when they found out they weren’t getting the inheritance they thought they would. He half considered making up some excuse that he urgently needed to get back to school but the thought of that appealed to him even less, especially since all that awaited him there was Harry Cosworth and his goons. Jonathan’s ribs still hurt from their last encounter and he had only been lucky enough that the fading bruise on his temple could be hidden by his hair. No, call him a coward, he’d fought tooth and nail, but one could only do so much when outnumbered five to one. He didn’t think even his grandfather could have bested those odds, despite what he liked to say in his stories.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The day was just as insufferable as Jonathan had expected. Aunt Claudia was already inebriated and only continued to get more so as the afternoon went on. Jonathan tried to retreat to the library only to find Cousin Adeline and her current suitor using the room for far too much contact. Jonathan wondered if all families were this ridiculous.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But as soon as dinner was served and consumed, they all returned to the parlor where the family solicitor read out his grandfather’s will.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan stood at the back of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he leaned against the wall, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Thus went the usual proceedings. The allotted cash read out and the snippy comments from distant and not-so-distant relatives both. The estate would go to the eldest son, Jonathan’s father.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But it was what happened at the end of the reading that surprised him. Granted, he’d been a little surprised that nothing had been bequeathed to him. He didn’t take it personally, but still…perhaps he was set to inherit the estate from his father instead. That would be well enough for him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that there hadn’t been a little nick-knack, some memento of his grandfather.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> However, as the others filed out of the room, most grumbling, the solicitor came over to where Jonathan was standing against the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Master Jonathan, I apologize for not mentioning you in the reading, but your grandfather specifically asked me to give you this in confidence.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “He was very firm in the fact that only you should have this. I believe it meant a lot to him.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan took the box and opened it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He was shocked to see a very familiar ring hiding inside. Never once had he seen his grandfather without it. It was gold and had a beautifully cut emerald in the center, which Jonathan had constantly run his finger over as a child while sitting on his grandfather’s lap, listening to stories of his archeological adventures. A lump formed in his throat and he was forced to close the box and sequester it away in his pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Thank you,” he whispered to the solicitor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">The man smiled, squeezed his shoulder, and went to the smoking room where the other men had gathered.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Jonathan didn’t follow, choosing to go upstairs to his room, exhausted and not wanting to see anyone else. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">He slid his coat off and hung it over a chair before reaching into the pocket and pulling out the box. He sat down on the bed and opened it again, this time taking the ring out and running it between his fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">An inscription on the inside of the band caught his eye and he held it closer to the lamp to read it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“Familiae spiritu,” he murmured. Latin for ‘family spirit’. He’d never seen that before as the ring had always been on his grandfather’s finger. A little bit of an odd inscription. It was not the family crest or anything and his grandfather had never said anything about this ring being a family heirloom. Still, it was something that had been a very constant part of his grandfather and Jonathan was incredibly glad to have it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A full body weariness washed over him both from the day and knowing he would have to return to school tomorrow. He quickly finished dressing for bed and lay down, glancing at the ring one more time before he left it on the side table, blowing the candle out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Jonathan wasn’t sure what woke him but it was dark when he opened his eyes. He had the strangest feeling that he was being watched.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He glanced around the room and…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> There! By his bed, a dark figure looming over him!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan scrambled upright with a choked cry, reaching for matches on his side table.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Who’s there?” he demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He struck a match as his shaking hand brought the candle to life, he saw only an empty room illuminated around him. He sat there for a long moment, panting as he fought to still his heartbeat.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Just a dream then, a nightmare. It must have been, he decided, setting the candle down as he sank back into the pillows. He turned onto his side and saw the ring in the open box. For some reason a chill washed over the back of his neck, but he chocked it up to the old, drafty house. He was not going to be reading any more gothic novels in the near future, that was for sure. He swiftly closed the ring box and blew the candle out, pulling the covers over his head as he listened to the still pattering rain outside.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">The next day, Jonathan woke early, feeling not very well rested, and packed his bag before grabbing a quick breakfast and hurriedly bidding his parents goodbye before having the coachman drive him to the train station.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was an hour’s ride to the university and Jonathan felt the resigned knot form in his stomach as he got off the train at the station.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It’s not that he was bad at school, he was actually quite consistent in his marks, and he enjoyed studying in his field of research, it was just that he didn’t really have any friends, and, actually, quite a few enemies. The only person who really seemed to like him was the headmaster’s daughter, Elizabeth. Thinking of her now brought a slight blush to Jonathan’s cheeks. Of course, they could do little more than wish each other good morning. It was hardly proper for her to talk to any of the students.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He had put his grandfather’s ring on that morning and ran his thumb over the familiar stone. It gave him a little confidence, perhaps enough to face Harry Cosworth and his lackeys.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan greeted the prefect on his way to drop off his stuff in the dormitory, then went to pick up the assignments that he had missed while he had been gone. He spent the rest of the day playing catch-up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> That night, he again woke inexplicably and was certain he saw someone standing by his bed. He only barely managed to hold back a cry—he’d never hear the end of it if he woke up half the dormitory. But as he blinked several times, he saw nothing out of the ordinary.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Why was he seeing stuff now? He’d never been like that before. A vague thought of his grandfather haunting him came to mind, but that was ridiculous. He was too old to believe in such tales and superstitions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And yet, two days later, he got a letter that left him in shock.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> His mother wrote to tell him that the night after he had left, his grandfather’s mansion had been broken into and, even more shocking, his grave had been dug up and desecrated! Jonathan was horrified at this news, wondering who on earth could have done such a thing. Even stranger was that nothing seemed to have been stolen, even from his grandfather’s grave. That almost made the whole thing worse.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan’s thumb smoothed subconsciously over the ring while he read the letter. For some reason, his mind went back to the strange man he had seen at his grandfather’s funeral. He didn’t know why, but he felt there might be a connection there. But if so, what?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He was so distressed at the news that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking between classes and bumped into someone who let out a feminine ‘oof’ as his books clattered to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Oh! I’m so sorry!” the figure cried, reaching out to touch his shoulder before quickly pulling back with a blush.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan found himself staring into the face of Elizabeth Merriweather, the headmaster’s daughter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “No, no, the fault is mine, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he protested quickly, getting up and brushing himself off. “Are you all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She smiled as she retrieved his final notebook. “I’m fine, Mr. Harrington, but…I had heard you went back home to attend your grandfather’s funeral. I am so sorry to hear of his passing.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Thank you, so am I,” Jonathan said, actually feeling quite warmed by her genuine care. He accepted his notebook. “Where are you headed? Perhaps I can accompany you? That way I can make sure no other clumsy oafs try to run you down?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She giggled prettily at his self-deprecation. “I’m just going back to my rooms, but you can walk with me if you have nothing else to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan did so, finding the young woman to be quite the ray of sun in his currently dark life. He bid her farewell all too soon and headed back toward the common room to work on some reading for a class the next day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A prickle at the back of his neck told him he was being followed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and his heart sank as he saw it was two of Cosworth’s toadies. He closed his eyes, praying for strength. If only he could get to the common room before they caught up to him…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But no, it was already too late for that, he realized as he saw Harry Cosworth himself standing between him and the building he needed to get to.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You know, I hate it when men don’t understand boundaries,” Cosworth said in his loud and self-important voice. “Take Mr. Harrington here, being so bold as to go walking with a young lady without a chaperone.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> One of the lackeys made a disapproving sound. Jonathan clenched his hands into fists. He didn’t bother saying anything because he knew it would make no difference.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What do you have to say for yourself, Harrington?” Cosworth demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Does it matter what I say?” Jonathan asked in resignation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You hear that, boys? He’s completely shameless! I think we need to teach him a lesson for his despicable ways.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan threw his books aside for the second time that day in preparation as Cosworth and his lackeys rushed him all at once. Jonathan wasn’t particularly bad at boxing, but when you were set upon by multiple assailants, none of which wanted to play by Queensbury rules, he really didn’t have much of a chance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He held them off for a grand total of three seconds before he took a shot to the face and reeled back, his defenses lowered, allowing Cosworth to bring a knee up into his ribs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan swung a fist at him, but the lackeys caught him and slammed him back against the nearest wall, pinning his wrists.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “One of these days, Harrington, you’ll learn your place,” Cosworth said, then frowned as something caught his eye. “Well, hello, what’s this? I haven’t seen this before, Jonathan; did this come from your dead grandfather?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan felt his stomach drop as he realized Cosworth was looking at his ring.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Don’t you touch that!” he snapped. Cosworth grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head back against the wall. Jonathan cried out, dazed. He tried to resist, but Cosworth forced his hand flat and yanked the ring from his finger, holding it up to inspect it with a grin.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What a fine piece! Far too nice for the likes of you, Harrington. I’ll just be taking it then.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “No!” Jonathan cried and yanked against the grip of the lackeys. One slammed a fist into his stomach and the other threw him to the ground. Jonathan wasn’t able to catch himself and his head struck the cobbles, making stars burst before his eyes. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness completely, was a confused sound coming from Cosworth and then a shout of warning. Jonathan through that was odd, but didn’t have the capacity to worry as he faded away.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Jonathan came to with a pounding head, looking around.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Wh-what?” He stared in horror at the scene that greeted him as he pushed himself up, looking around in shock.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Cosworth and his lackeys lay sprawled, bloody, on the ground around him. Jonathan had no recollection of doing that or…or anyone else doing so, for that matter. What had happened?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He then caught sight of a figure standing off to one side, dark and oddly shadowed, even though he shouldn’t have been. Jonathan scrambled to his feet, head pounding. “Hey!” he called to the strange figure.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It turned, and Jonathan staggered back in horror. The face…He was sure this was the specter he had woken up to twice now. How could that be? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Who are you?” he demanded, embarrassed that his voice shook.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The figure, a tall man dressed in grey clothing of an indeterminant period simply shook his head and gave a small salute before he disappeared, right before Jonathan’s eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> No…not quite disappeared; simply returned, wispy and intangible, to a spot on the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan watched with bated breath as there was an emerald glint there and he realized suddenly that the figure—thing…ghost?—had returned to his grandfather’s ring!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan slowly bent to pick up the ring, hands shaking as he turned it slowly. He had no clue what he had just witnessed. How was what he thought he had seen even possible? He must have hit his head too hard. And yet… He stared around at Cosworth and the other boys who were groaning as If they were starting to come to. Someone, or some<i>thing</i> had beaten them, seemingly in defense of Jonathan.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He ran his finger over the inscription on the inside of the ring’s bang again. “Familiae Spiritu”. Could it be…?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A footstep on the cobbles behind him had Jonathan spinning around just in time to see a darkly clad figure disappearing around the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Hey!” he yelled, slipping his ring into his pocket as he rushed after the figure. Whoever it was might have had something to do with all this, or at the very least seen what had happened.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But as Jonathan turned the corner, seeing the man in front of him, something hit him from behind and this time, he really did black out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Jonathan woke to gentle fingers dabbing his forehead, which stung. He flinched and let out a small moan, blinking his eyes open.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A feminine gasp was heard.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Oh, Jonathan! Are you well? You’ve been unconscious for nearly half an hour. I was so worried.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan blinked, focusing on the lovely, worried hazel eyes staring down at him. “E-Elizabeth?” He was too out of it to remember to call her Miss Merriweather, but she didn’t seem to mind. He realized next that he was lying on a couch in the parlor of the headmaster’s house. “What happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I was walking out to put something in the post I had forgotten earlier when I found you lying on the path! I had some of the garden staff carry you here since it was closer than the infirmary.” Her eyes darkened. “It wasn’t that cad Harry Cosworth again, was it?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan winced as he sat up. “You need not concern yourself, Miss. I’ll be fine. I’ve taken harder knocks playing rugby.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She pressed her lips together but seemed willing to let it go. “I hope you got a few good hits in at least. I am really not very fond of Mr. Cosworth.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan couldn’t help but smile a little at her shared vehemence. “Don’t worry, I believe I did.” Somehow, he added silently, reaching down for his pocket, only to realize he wasn’t wearing his coat.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Panic set in until he saw it draped over the back of the couch.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan grabbed his coat and shoved his hand into the pocket, relief rushing over him as he found the ring. “N-nothing,” he said, trying to reassure her with a smile. “But I had better go, I—gah…” He made to stand up but his head and his ribs protested the movement. Elizabeth put her hands on his shoulders to steady him. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Careful! I really don’t think you should be getting up!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He needed to figure out what was going on with the ring, figure out some sort of explanation for what he had seen. And, also, he was worried about that man he had seen right before he had been knocked unconscious. He had no idea who he was, but if he was the same man who Jonathan had seen at the funeral and he was here now… Jonathan couldn’t help but think that all of this, the strange man in black, the phantom from the ring, even the break-in at his grandfather’s house, might be connected. And he was determined to find out how. He just really didn’t want Elizabeth to get tangled up in it. Whatever was going on, he could only assume it was dangerous, and he would never forgive himself if she got hurt because of him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I’m sorry, thank you for looking after me, but I really need to be going.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Well, then at least let me accompany you to the infirmary,” Elizabeth insisted. “I really want the doctor to see your head. You might have a concussion.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan wished a knock on the head could explain everything he had seen but knew it likely wouldn’t be that simple. He did sigh though, and gave the young woman a small smile, figuring it would be easier than refusing. “Very well, I suppose I can’t say no.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She smiled back and offered her arm to steady him as he stood. “No. After all, it’s only fair since you were so kind as to escort me earlier. I’m simply returning the favor.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She saw Jonathan back to the school’s infirmary without mishap and Jonathan had to admit he was grateful as he was a bit woozy and it always helped a man’s hurts to be in pleasant company.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Once he had been proclaimed, miraculously, concussion free, he headed back to his dormitory.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Someone grabbed him roughly by the jacket and slammed him against the wall. Jonathan grunted as his injuries were jarred, and found himself standing face-to-face, once again, with Cosworth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What the devil was that back there, Harrington?” the other boy demanded and for the first time, Jonathan realized one of his arms was in a sling and his eyes were wild. “What kind of sick trick did you pull earlier?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I have no idea!” Jonathan protested, jerking himself from Cosworth’s grasp.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You think I won’t figure it out?” Cosworth demanded. “It had to have been someone you paid to do it. A body guard your daddy sent with you? I just can’t figure out how he showed up so suddenly. But whatever it was, my father will hear of this and when he does, you’ll be sorry!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Cosworth, I seriously don’t know what you are talking about. I was knocked unconscious. I didn’t even see what happened,” Jonathan tried to explain.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Stop playing coy! I have half a mind to put your arm in a sling too!” Cosworth raised his still functioning fist as if about to do just that. Jonathan closed his eyes and turned his head away when he heard a cry of shock from Cosworth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “W-what the devil?” he nearly whimpered and staggered backwards, tripping over his own feet. He fell on his backside as Jonathan watched in shock, then Cosworth quickly scrambled up again and ran off down the hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan spun around and his heart leapt into his throat as he saw that phantom figure again, standing behind him. Jonathan nearly had the same reaction as Cosworth, staggering back a step.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The big figure shook its head and, to Jonathan’s surprise, actually looked like it was <i>smirking</i> at him before it started to fade away.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Wait!” he cried out suddenly as the figure dissolved into a mist. Jonathan cursed under his breath.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> All right, maybe he wasn’t going insane, but that still left him with the problem of what <i>was</i> going on.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Jonathan pretended to go to sleep that night with the rest of the boys, but got out of bed and snuck out of the dormitory to head toward the library.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was silent this time of night, thankfully no other students had snuck in to study last minute, so Jonathan was alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He went toward the back where there were multiple tables for working, and he took the ring out his pocket and set it on the table.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Okay,” he said quietly, feeling a little silly talking to the ring. “I want to know who you are. Can you show yourself?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He waited for a few long seconds, and poked the ring. “Hello? I just want to know what’s going on?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan groaned and sank into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know what I expected. It must be that Cosworth and I are both going crazy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He glanced up and couldn’t help the cry that burst from his lips to see the large phantom figure standing there in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan jumped out of the chair, and it tipped. The figure simply reached out and snagged it before it made a loud noise, setting it gently back on its legs. Jonathan watched in shock.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “So, you are real?” he said lamely.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The figure smiled, and straightened its shoulders almost proudly. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan got his first really good look at it. It was definitely not corporeal, though it had been able to touch the chair—and obviously Cosworth and his cronies. And despite its mostly indistinct form, it was obviously male, strong jaw, broad shoulders, hair a little too long for this century that, along with the clothing—something that looked like a highwayman’s coat and leathers—was floating slightly in a nonexistent breeze. The phantom was all in black and grey except its—his?—eyes which were the same piercing emerald green as the stone in the ring.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “So…who are you? <i>What</i> are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The figure cocked his head to one side and pointed to the inside of the ring where the inscription was. Jonathan frowned.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Familiae spiritu…family spirit?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The figure nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You can’t talk?” Jonathan concluded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The figure shrugged and touched his ear before pointing to Jonathan. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I wouldn’t be able to hear you? Is it because…you’re beyond the veil?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom shrugged again and waved his hands in a way that someone implied that ‘it was complicated’. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Fantastic.” Jonathan muttered to himself, sinking back into the chair. “So you can’t explain to me what you are, or why my grandfather gave you to me? What should I even call you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom suddenly smiled and held up a finger, reaching across the desk to grab a pen and paper in his shadowy hand. He scratched out a short note and then handed it to Jonathan. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The young man took it, reading the surprisingly good handwriting. “Your name is Leo?” The phantom nodded and Jonathan continued to read. “ ‘I am your guardian, I accompanied your grandfather on his journeys and kept him safe and he wished me to do the same for you. I’ve been in the family for many generations.” Jonathan trailed off as he read the last line. It was true that a lot of the Harringtons had been adventurers. Jonathan himself was a student of anthropology and intended to do quite a bit of travelling when he got out of school as well. But still, this was all so strange.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “So, Grandfather gave you to me as a guardian?” Jonathan asked. “Is that why you beat Harry Cosworth and his companions so harshly?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo raised his chin, folding his arms across his chest, obviously not at all sorry. Jonathan sighed and rubbed his forehead. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Okay, well, we’re going to have to set boundaries in the future. I can’t have you causing trouble here at school. I don’t know what you did with my grandfather, but I’m sure it was far more dangerous than going up against a few school bullies. So…please don’t make this troublesome for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo gave him a look and took the paper back, turning it over to write something else, longer this time. Jonathan waited while he wrote it out and handed it back to him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan took it and read, “ ‘I thought they meant you harm. There is someone watching you. I was unable to go after him earlier, because I cannot travel very far from the ring….’ Wait, you mean that man who I saw before I got hit over the head?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo nodded and pointed at the paper. Jonathan continued to read. “ ‘He is someone who means your family harm and he will be back. We must keep an eye out.’” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Okay, so there’s a man after me, why?” Jonathan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo took the paper. <i>A man who made enemies of your grandfather.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“My grandfather had enemies? How come I’m just hearing about this?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo shrugged. Jonathan sighed, this was just getting more and more bizarre by the second. He ran a hand through his already messy hair. “Okay, but you can’t just pop up around other people.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo wrote on the paper again. <i>I can only be seen by others if I want them to. Unless they also possess a ring, which is highly unlikely.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan sighed again. “Well, I suppose that will have to do. Do you know the name of the man who’s after me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo wrote on the paper and Jonathan pulled it toward him. “Donavan? I don’t remember my Grandfather mentioning anyone of that name.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo shrugged again, almost apologetically. Jonathan was getting the idea that there was a lot his grandfather hadn’t told him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Okay, well, there’s nothing more we can do tonight, I suppose,” he said and stood up, picking the ring up again. “Um…you can go back.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo saluted and disappeared into the ring again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan stood there for a long time, staring at the ring in his palm and trying to decide what on earth he was going to do now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">So Jonathan found himself the owner of a guardian spirit who was a literal spirit. He really wasn’t sure what to think about that. He wasn’t completely sure he believed it even now. If it hadn’t been for the definitive proof that Cosworth had also appeared to have seen Leo, than Jonathan probably would have just thought that he’d been hit over the head too many times in the past few days.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He really didn’t need this while he was just trying to finish school.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He did try to be more cautious, however, when he was walking around the university grounds. If that man in the dark coat he kept seeing really was an old enemy of his grandfather’s like Leo had said, then Jonathan wondered what on earth his plans were. If he had broken into the manor house, and even gone so far as to desecrate his grandfather’s grave, then he must have some motive. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan had spoken about it to Leo, asking him what he remembered about the man.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom said he knew little more than the man’s name, as previously, he’d sent lackeys after his grandfather instead of doing the dirty work himself and they’d only seen his face once. But it appeared that Donovan, the only name they’d ever heard, was obsessed with the rings, which gave Jonathan at least a clue as to what he’d been looking for, though why he hadn’t stolen the ring off of Jonathan that day when he’d knocked him unconscious, he didn’t know.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Does he have one?” Jonathan asked Leo.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom shrugged then wrote, <i>Not that I know of, but it’s been years. Anything could have happened. Your grandfather only encountered two other people in possession of the rings on his journeys. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “And how many of them are out there?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Again, Leo shrugged. <i>We don’t know. Your grandfather was trying to find the other bearers but they’re usually quite secretive. Mine is an heirloom that has gone back for at least two centuries. I have served many of your ancestors.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan mulled over this information, and when he got a moment, he took to the library and tried to do research on anything that might relate to the rings and what exactly they were, where they had come from. Even as a student of history and anthropology, he had never come across even a mention of anything like this, either in recorded history or fable. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> When the university library proved to be unhelpful, he quickly sent letters to several of his mentors who had helped him with research in the past, seeing if they knew of anything like this. Without even knowledge of the origin of the rings—Leo had no clue where he had come from either—it was nearly impossible to find anything useful.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> However, one of his contacts, a former colleague of his grandfather, sent him back a letter saying that he had some good information.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan shared it with Leo that night. “I’m going to travel to Oxford first thing in the morning to meet with him. Let’s hope he has what we’re looking for.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It was the weekend, so Jonathan left along with the other students who were traveling home. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Jonathan!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He turned and saw Elizabeth rushing after him. He blushed slightly with pleasure at the fact she had called him by his Christian name. “Elizabeth, hello.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She smiled, her own cheeks flushed. “Are you leaving for the weekend?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I just have some research to do in Oxford,” Jonathan told her. “I should be back by tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Oh, well, have a good trip,” she said shyly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan waved and turned, before someone slapped him in the shoulder. He looked up in shock to see that Leo had materialized and was frowning at him and pointing back toward Elizabeth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What?” Jonathan hissed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom smirked and mimed walking.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan rolled his eyes. He did not need a ghostly wing-man, however… “Elizabeth!” he called, hurrying a couple steps after her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> She turned, seeming to be expectant. Jonathan swallowed hard. “Er, if you would like…perhaps tomorrow when I get back, would you…would you like to take a turn around the school grounds with me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed but her eyes were bright. “Oh, I would love to, Jonathan. I look forward to it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “As do I,” Jonathan assured her, exhaling greatly as he turned around and hurried to catch a cab for the train. Leo reappeared and gave him a nod and a smile. Jonathan glowered at him but couldn’t really be mad either.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The trip to Oxford was uneventful and it was easy enough to get to the house of Mr. Robert Warrant, his grandfather’s colleague, from the station.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The aging man met Jonathan with a welcome handshake.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Jonathan! The last time I saw you you were just a wee thing! But you do take after your grandfather. I’m very sorry I was unable to come for the funeral; I only just got back into the country. Come inside then, we have a lot to discuss.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan followed him into the house and to his study where the maid brought tea and set it on the desk.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant wasted no time as soon as the door was closed. “Considering the nature of your letter, I take it the ring has fallen to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan pulled off his gloves and set them aside, revealing the emerald ring on his finger. “Yes, my grandfather left it in my care.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The man gave him a long look. “And you’ve met Leo?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> At the mention of his name, the phantom appeared at Jonathan’s side, startling Warrant slightly, before the older man smiled. “Why, there you are, old boy, it’s been a long time.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo smiled and bowed before going back into his ring.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “So, you knew about the rings as well?” Jonathan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Oh, certainly. Most of your grandfather’s closest companions and colleagues did; one of them even had one himself, but he died with no heirs and it was put away.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “And you know who Donavan is?” Jonathan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The man stiffened, his face growing grim. “I do know who that devil is, yes. He searched all his life for a ring, but they are hard to come by, and the spirits who inhabit them are inherently loyal to only members of the family they belong to. I suppose it’s possible that one found by chance could be used by anyone—likely what Donavan was hoping for—but typically the spirits only manifest for their specific bloodlines. Which is why we put Connolly’s into storage after his death. Perhaps someday, a new family will take it up, but likely not for a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “But where do the rings come from originally?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Nobody knows. Your grandfather spent most of his life in the field trying to find out, but there was never any definitive proof of origin or nationality. Not all of them are rings either, it’s the stones that have the power. One of the other men in our group had the theory that the phantoms were manifestations of warrior spirits or perhaps the ghosts of warriors themselves who were somehow transmuted into the stones. As you’ve seen with Leo, they are sentient, but none of them know anything about where they came from or remember anything about a past life. They only remember who they have served.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan mulled this over in his head for a while as he sipped his tea. “And Donavan wanted one. How did he find out about them to begin with?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “There is an ancient tale, about a pendant that brought ultimate power to the bearer, that could summon an unbeatable champion so no one could kill the one who wore it. The story goes that it belonged to some ancient king. Apparently, Donavan, like all men obsessed with the idea of power, became enamored with the idea of having a stone like that, and spent all his life looking for one. But I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I believe he is,” Jonathan said grimly. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant looked shocked. “Donavan? Are you sure?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan nodded and told the other man about the encounters he’d had with the man in the black coat. Warrant looked pale by the end, especially after hearing about the attempted robbery and grave desecration.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “If this is the case, and that really is Donavan, you are in great danger, Jonathan,” the man said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo appeared as if feeling the tension, grim himself at the other man’s words. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “He tried to kill your grandfather on several occasions, I can’t imagine that he would hesitate to do the same to you if he thought it would serve him,” Warrant said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “But he knocked me unconscious the other day on school grounds, if he’d wanted me dead, wouldn’t he have done it then?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant shook his head. “I can’t speak to his motives, but you must be careful. Leo, you must look out for him.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom nodded, folding his arms across his chest. Jonathan pressed his lips together. He still didn’t truly understand this entire situation, but he did see that there was something bigger going on.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant got up and went to one of his bookshelves, pulling down a leather-bound journal. “Here, you should look at this. It’s the diary I kept during my time with your grandfather. It might give you an idea of what we were doing and perhaps answer some of your questions.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan took it and flipped through the pages of neat text. “Thank you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I hope you’ll stay the night, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to take the late train back,” Warrant said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan nodded in agreement. “If it’s not too much trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> That night, sitting up in the bed in the guest room, Jonathan read Warrant’s journal by candlelight. Some of it was hard to believe, other stories, he remembered his grandfather telling him as a child, and it seemed they were not at all as exaggerated as he had assumed when he grew older. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He was also fascinated by the roles played by Leo, and Connolly’s phantom, Taurus. It seemed they were instrumental in a lot of fights the group had during their archeological explorations, either protecting the group from tomb robbers and treasure hunters, or attacks from Donavan. The phantoms were treated like members of the group, comrades and friends. It was strange to Jonathan to think about, but he had to admit that even in the short time he’d known Leo, the phantom warrior didn’t have a dislikable personality, and it was nice to have someone to confide in.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The one thing that was reoccurring in the accounts was that Donavan was a constant problem to the group. It seemed that no matter what country they ended up in on digs, he wasn’t far behind, though he hardly ever showed himself. In fact, at first, his grandfather and the others seemed to think that there was just an increase of tomb robbers, however, upon interrogating one of the men they had taken prisoner in a fight, they found he was actually working for a man named Donavan. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan read into the wee hours of the morning, until he fell asleep with the journal on his chest and only woke when Leo touched his shoulder, pointing to the morning light streaming through the window.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan checked the time and leapt out of bed, snatching his clothes. If he didn’t hurry, he would miss his train back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He thanked Warrant for his hospitality as he headed out. “Do you mind if I borrow the journal? I’ll get it back to you soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Of course, take as much time as you need,” the older man said. “And let me know if you see Donavan again. Also, Mrs. Carlisle packed this for you.” He handed Jonathan a bundle of food for the trip back and the young man smiled gratefully and headed out, calling for a cab.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He got to the train station in good time, and stood on the platform, waiting for it to arrive.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> A figure came to wait next to him and Jonathan didn’t take much note of it until the stranger began to speak.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “How is Robert Warrant? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan whipped around, seeing the stranger staring at him, a dangerous look in his dark eyes. He was still wearing the same black mackintosh Jonathan had seen him in before and his bearing was unmistakable. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Donavan,” he said. Leo appeared, hovering at Jonathan’s shoulder and he was glad for the phantom’s presence.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “So, you know who I am,” the old man said, his voice level. He looked over Jonathan’s shoulder and the young man was aware of Leo shifting uncomfortably. “I see you also do have the ring after all.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo started, and Jonathan wondered if he hadn’t expected Donavan to see him. He didn’t know what that meant, but it was obviously disturbing to the phantom.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What do you want?” Jonathan demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan only smiled. “You’ll see soon enough. But I’m hardly going to make a fuss here in front of all these people. I don’t think that would go over very well, would it? So you might want to call your phantom off.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo clenched his fists in anger, but made no move to attack. Jonathan locked eyes with Donavan, but he was trembling, genuinely terrified. This man was obviously dangerous, and he didn’t have any clue what he might do, why he was so bold as to approach him here in a public place. None of it made sense.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The train whistled and barreled into the station but that was the last thing Jonathan was thinking about now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan tipped his hat to him. “I expect I’ll be seeing you soon, Jonathan.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> And he slipped off to join the crowds getting onto the train. Jonathan didn’t even bother, he raced out of the station and hailed the first cab he saw, hurriedly rattling off Warrant’s address.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo appeared in the seat beside him, green eyes worried as he looked over at Jonathan, miming writing. Jonathan hurriedly yanked a notebook out of his bag and handed it to the phantom who took it and scribbled something onto it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan took it back and read, <i>He should not have been able to see me; I was not making myself visible. Something is wrong.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“What does that mean?” Jonathan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo hesitated for a second before he took the notebook again and wrote, <i>I think he may have a ring now too.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan sank back onto the seat, breathing heavily. This was all spiraling quickly out of proportion and he couldn’t help but feel he was far out of his depth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He barely remembered to pay the cabbie as he dashed out and ran to Warrant’s door, pounding on it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The maid opened it, shock on her face. “Mr. Harrington—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Is Mr. Warrant here?” Jonathan asked hurriedly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The man appeared at the same instant. “Jonathan? What’s wrong, lad?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan shook his head. “Donavan was at the station.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What?” Warrant’s expression changed from shock to horror. “Did he see you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “He talked to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Where is he now?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “He got on the train, I probably should have followed him but…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “No, you did the right thing.” Warrant was already grabbing his hat and coat, taking a walking stick from a stand by the door. “Mrs. Carlisle, hold down the fort while I’m gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “But Mr. Warrant, what’s wrong?” the housekeeper asked even as Warrant joined Jonathan on the doorstep and waved to the cab driver who was just about to leave again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Where are we going?” Jonathan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Back to the station, if he was heading back toward the university, he might have some plan to set a trap for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan felt cold sweat break out across his back as they settled into the coach. Leo appeared and gave a worried glance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What exactly did Donavan say?” Warrant asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan related as much as he could remember from the brief conversation, and added, “He was also able to see Leo. We think Donavan might have a ring now.” Leo nodded in confirmation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant sank back against the seats, rubbing his forehead. “This could be very bad. You should send a message to your parents as soon as we get back. It’s possible they could be at risk, especially if they’re still staying in your family manor.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “But if he knows I have the ring, then isn’t it me he wants?” Jonathan asked. “That must have been what he was looking for this whole time, wasn’t it?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant raised his hands helplessly. “I can only assume, though if it’s true he has his own, I don’t know what he’s going to do with another one.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan glanced at Leo, who gave a concerned look. Frankly he didn’t want to know. This whole situation was spiraling far out of his control.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> When they got to the station, Jonathan went to send a telegraph to his parents, while Warrant asked around about a man matching Donavan’s description. By the time Jonathan came back, he’d hit a dead end.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “One of the station workers said they thought they saw Donavan get into a cab, but there’s no telling where he could have been heading,” Warrant said. “I think it’s best you head back to school and I’ll continue looking through town, asking around.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “But it will be dangerous to go alone, especially since Donavan knows you’re involved with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant smiled. “Don’t worry about me, Jonathan, I’ve had quite a few more close calls in my life. You just get back to school. You’ll be safer in a place where you’ll be surrounded by people. I’ll let you know the minute I find anything out.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan didn’t like the idea of abandoning Warrant, but after reading his diary, he knew the older man would know what he was doing. And really, Jonathan had no clue how to proceed in this situation. He didn’t even know how they were going to resolve it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He took a cab back to the school and heard the clock bell tolling the time. He suddenly remembered that he’d promised to meet Elizabeth that afternoon. It seemed rather silly now with everything going on, but still, he didn’t want her to think he abandoned her. He would just stop by and tell her some other business had come up that he had to attend to.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan walked toward the headmaster’s house and rang the bell. It was answered by a maid who gave him a stern look.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Hello, um, is Miss Merriweather at home?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “No, she’s not, she went into town I believe, and you have no place asking after her or calling on her,” the woman said in no uncertain terms.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Oh, well, um, when she comes back, can you tell her—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The door slammed in his face and he bit his lip. That could have gone better.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He suddenly became aware that Leo had appeared beside him. The phantom was looking around.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What is it?” Jonathan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom strode across the path to the door and into the greenery on one side, bending over to pick something up out of the bushes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan frowned, seeing the small beaded clutch he had seen Elizabeth carry into town with her. “That’s Elizabeth’s. Why would she…” A cold pit started to form in his stomach and Leo met his gaze with worry, handing the purse to Jonathan who clutched it to his chest. “She might have just dropped it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But even he didn’t believe that. He started back toward the dormitories, planning to drop his bag inside before he would go ask if anyone had seen Elizabeth. He tucked her purse inside his jacket as he entered the house.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He was accosted by one of the other boys as he entered the dormitory and dropped his bag onto his bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Harrington, someone delivered a letter to you,” the boy said, tossing an envelope onto his bed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan picked it up, seeing it was only marked with his name as if it had been hand delivered. He opened it, wondering what it could be, a horrible feeling in his stomach.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> His breath caught in his throat as he saw the words and Leo appeared, reading over his shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> <i>It’s a shame that Miss Merriweather will not be able to make your date this afternoon, she had a prior engagement. If you wish to see her again, bring the ring to the Park Green at midnight.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Jonathan felt his knees go weak and he sank onto the bed, trying to get his breathing under control. The letter wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan had Elizabeth and he would most certainly kill her if Jonathan didn’t show up to this meeting.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Warrant tugged his hat down lower on his head as he stood next to Jonathan on the street across from the park.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I can do this alone, you know,” he said. “I’d hate to see you hurt during this exchange.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan shook his head. “I can’t leave Elizabeth to his mercy. Besides, Leo’s bound to me. If Donavan has a ring too, then we’re going to need Leo’s help.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “What are you planning?” Warrant asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan shook his head. “All I want is to save Elizabeth and finish this. Whatever it takes.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant nodded firmly and reached into his coat pocket before bringing out a pistol, pulling the hammer back, before tucking it back into his pocket. “And I will stand beside you just like I did with your grandfather.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan nodded gratefully and moved to cross the street.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He saw Donavan almost instantly upon entering the park. He was standing on the bridge over a pond, illuminated by the moonlight.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Warrant put a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder before he could step onto the bridge.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Ah, Jonathan, and Robert Warrant—it’s been a long time.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Yes, it has,” Warrant said. “And yet you haven’t changed.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan cocked his head to one side. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, old friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Where is Elizabeth?” Jonathan demanded, hands clenched tightly at his sides.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan smirked. “Elizabeth, is it? My, you two are more friendly than I thought. But I did make a promise. She will be exchanged for the ring.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Show her to me first!” Jonathan demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan sighed. “Very well.” He stepped to the other end of the bridge and reached around the railing, hauling the girl into view. She was tied at the wrists, attached to the railing and had a gag around her mouth. Even in the moonlight, Jonathan could see tears streaming down her cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Elizabeth, everything will be all right!” he promised. “I’ll get you out of here!” He stepped forward onto the bridge and Donavan tutted at him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Now, now, we have a deal. Give me the ring Jonathan.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan glanced at Warrant who took his pistol out, holding it ready at his side. The other man gave him a slight nod.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You do have the ring, don’t you?” Donavan asked sharply.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I have it,” Jonathan told him, slipping his glove off and raising his hand so that the emerald glinted in the moonlight. “But I want to know why you want it. Surely you know, Leo is only loyal to my family.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan chuckled, striding forward. “Oh, your grandfather didn’t know half there was to know about the rings. I know tricks he never even would have thought of.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan continued on his way until he was only about eight feet away from Donavan, standing in the center of the bridge. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Time’s up, Jonathan. Make your decision: The ring or the girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan was silent for a long second before he smiled. “Sorry, but I think I’m going to choose another option.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo materialized with a silent roar, launching himself at Donavan, fist raised to strike.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan didn’t seem shocked at all, to Jonathan’s surprise, he simply stepped back and raised his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Another figure materialized in front of him, as a glint of violet on his finger caught the moonlight.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo came to a skidding halt then bent backwards, almost horizontal to the ground as the other phantom lashed out with a sword of darkness, nearly slashing Leo’s throat open.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “The devil!” Warrant cried from the sidelines. “He does have a ring!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan chuckled, standing nonchalantly to one side as Jonathan watched the two phantoms poised in fighting crouches, eyeing each other. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “That’s right,” Donavan said, holding up his hand to allow the ring to glint again. “I finally found one. Meet Ursa.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan’s phantom was at least a head taller than Leo and even more broad, his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail that flowed behind him. Leo sneered and reached behind him, drawing two parrying daggers that Jonathan had never realized he had.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Kill them, Ursa, and bring Leo’s ring to me. They have proven too troublesome to be kept alive.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Ursa nodded sharply and lunged forward, striking out at Leo. Jonathan’s phantom parried the attack easily and then exchanged several rapid-fire blows, all silent, but somehow Jonathan could feel the impact through the air.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo lashed out and managed to slice one of the daggers across Ursa’s cheek. Dark mist poured out and Ursa’s mouth twisted into a snarl before he lunged forward, grabbing one of Leo’s wrists and slashing with the blade. Leo twisted, but was unable to avoid getting slashed across the ribs by Ursa’s sword. He yanked himself free and staggered back as an even bigger cloud of dark mist appeared from his side.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Leo!” Jonathan cried worriedly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom shook his head and lurched back into the fight, but Ursa kicked him back, disarming one of his daggers and slamming his sword hilt up into Leo’s jaw. Leo collapsed, seemingly stunned.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan watched in horror as Ursa spun around toward him, sword raised.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Jonathan!” Warrant cried, holding his gun up, seeming at a loss of what to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Ursa raised his sword but Leo appeared suddenly in front of Jonathan, shielding him with his body and knocking him back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Ursa’s sword fell, hitting Leo’s shoulder heavily and digging into Jonathan’s as well from the force of the impact.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan cried out and Leo’s mouth was also open in a silent scream of pain before he kicked out, slamming his booted foot into Ursa’s stomach, causing the other phantom to stagger back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo pushed himself to his feet, slightly hunched, only one dagger left. But as Ursa crawled upright again, Leo wasted no time in simply throwing his dagger.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> It hit Ursa right in the center of the chest. The phantom staggered back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Ursa!” Donavan cried, fury tearing across his face. He glowered at Jonathan who was now on his knees, clutching his bleeding shoulder as Leo held his ground in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You’ll pay for this, Jonathan.” He drew a dagger of his own and advanced on the boy, but a shot rang out and Donavan staggered to a halt, a wet patch appearing across his chest. Jonathan whipped around and saw Warrant standing behind him with his gun raised.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Donavan growled, clutching his shoulder, staggered back against the railing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You’ll pay, Jonathan,” he repeated. “I promise you you’ll live to regret this.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He collapsed over the side, Ursa disappearing with him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan staggered to his feet, alarmed as the splash was heard below. “Leo! Don’t let him get away!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom ran and leapt over the side too, but after several seconds, he reappeared on the bridge, shaking his head, hands raised.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “He’s gone?” Warrant asked, pale. “But how is that?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan shook his head. “We’ll worry about it later. If we’re lucky, he won’t survive that gunshot wound.” He staggered over to the other end of the bridge where Elizabeth was still crouched, trembling.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Elizabeth,” Jonathan collapsed beside her. Leo came over and used his blade to cut her bonds. Jonathan pulled the gag from her mouth and she instantly collapsed against his chest, crying.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Jonathan!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “It’s all right,” he whispered, resting his cheek against her hair and holding her close, comforted by the warmth of her body. “I’m so sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He looked over her shoulder at Leo who was propping himself against the railing. The dark mist was still flowing from his wounds. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Are you all right, Leo?” Jonathan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom smiled, and indicated resting. Jonathan smiled back and reached out to clasp his hand. “Thank you. You can go now.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo nodded and saluted before he disappeared rather quickly. Jonathan hoped he would recover.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> His own shoulder ached though he didn’t think the wound was that bad. He was more worried about Elizabeth trembling in his arms. Warrant came over and helped him pull her up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Come on, you two need to be taken care of,” the older man said, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Elizabeth’s shoulders. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan didn’t have it in him to protest. Simply wrapped his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders and pulled her to him as they both followed Warrant off the bridge.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan had a feeling this wasn’t the conclusion of anything, but the beginning of only more questions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“Are you sure you have to go?” Elizabeth asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan smiled and reached out to tentatively clasp her hand. “I’m afraid I have to.” It had been a difficult decision, but he had decided to leave school early and take on a job as Warrant’s assistant instead. They had both agreed that, without knowing what had become of Donavan, it was better they stay close and put more manpower into finding out what they could about the stones. Besides, working with him would still further Jonathan’s career in archeological anthropology.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I’ll come visit whenever I can,” he assured her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You had better,” she said and leaned forward impulsively and kissed his cheek. Jonathan’s face flamed red and he ducked his head.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Just be careful,” she pleaded. “And Leo…” The phantom materialized at Jonathan’s side. Elizabeth had seen everything that had happened at the bridge and Jonathan had explained it to her, introducing her to Leo once the phantom had recovered. Oddly, the two seemed to hit it off and were rather fond of each other. “Do look after him,” she instructed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Leo placed a hand over his heart and bowed. Elizabeth stretched onto her toes and kissed his cheek too, making Leo smirk proudly before taking her hand and kissing it. She giggled, and Jonathan rolled his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “You can go now, Leo,” he muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> The phantom smirked and disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “Write me when you can,” Elizabeth told him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I will,” Jonathan said and looked over toward where Warrant was waiting with a cab. Impulsively, he reached for Elizabeth and pulled her close, pressing his mouth to hers gently. She gasped, looking stunned as he pulled back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> “I promise I’ll be back before long,” he told her, then picked up his bags and headed toward the coach where Warrant was smiling, shaking his head.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Jonathan got inside next to the older man and as the coach started he looked out the window, seeing Elizabeth waving to him. He waved back, seeing Leo do the same out of the corner of his eye, before he settled back. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> He had the feeling that his life was just starting and that many adventures lay ahead, just like the ones his grandfather had always told him about. And even if they were dangerous, he was ready to face them head on.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-65446612462387040072020-06-16T02:54:00.000-04:002020-06-16T02:54:47.899-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "Ply Your Silver Hammer" -- by Benjamin Leskey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nMdHe3fojjI/XuXHzDD1KsI/AAAAAAAADVM/9a12NymFQIkss1VLSwWvgBTz2z_gLcffgCK4BGAsYHg/s1462/silverhammercover.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1462" data-original-width="1072" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nMdHe3fojjI/XuXHzDD1KsI/AAAAAAAADVM/9a12NymFQIkss1VLSwWvgBTz2z_gLcffgCK4BGAsYHg/s320/silverhammercover.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: "liberation sans", sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: "liberation sans", sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;">
Ply Your Silver Hammer<o:p></o:p></div>
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By Benjamin Leskey<o:p></o:p></div>
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My old uncle scowled and scuffed his way up the gravel path, sending little stones flying all around. I am certain I got one in my shoe as I walked beside him, but what did he care about that? What did I care? I was getting paid, and he was paying me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We came around a clump of tall, scraggly fir trees, ugly looking specimens that twisted around each other at the root but all spread out and bent further and further down as they tried going up. Most of them were dead, except one that was only nearly dead, and another one that had managed to stick its decrepit top above the others. There was an old ax buried in the base of the nearly dead fir; most of the ax-head and half the handle were being engulfed by the tree’s bulging wound.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s been there a while,” I said, pointing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My uncle didn’t turn his head. “Wasn’t there when I was last here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“When was that?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Not long enough.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We could see the house from there. It was smaller than I expected; I had never seen it in person before. It was a disappointing shabby gray barn. Only the front door made it look like a house. There was a small, grimy electric light glowing by the knob that cast its glow into the growing darkness.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My uncle didn’t turn his head, but out of the corner of my eye I saw the corner of his eye change from white to black.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Heh,” he said, instead of actual laughter. “Dreams are weird, right? I had a crazy one just the other night. I dreamed I was coming back here instead of you, and somehow it was you bringing me up the walk. Just remembered that. Also you were my dad.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s weird,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I dream a lot,” he went on. “Jenny will sometimes try to tell me what they mean, but she doesn’t know anything.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Huh,” I said, instead of actual speech.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, if you ever get a wife, I’m sure she’ll tell you the same thing: ‘Leslie, don’t give ‘em a thought. You’ll forget ‘em in a moment anyway.’”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Not unlikely,” I said. My name was also Leslie, so he might have been quite literal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We came up to the house. My uncle stabbed the lock with his key and swung open the door to the vicious smell of dust and must. He shoved the key into my hand and stepped away. “All yours.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I shifted the key to my other hand and clenched where the sharp tip had left a mark. “Okay.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey,” he said slowly, “Uh… would you mind repairing some of the damage to the shed while you’re here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I won’t be bothering with that,” I said. “I won’t have to look at this place again, after this week.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He frowned and began crunching his way back down the path. “I’ll come for you in a week, Leslie,” he called. “Don’t do anything stupid.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Not that I could.” I watched him disappear around the dead firs, then I shut the door.<o:p></o:p></div>
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One week was all I had to stay. My great uncle Oscar left his house and fortune to his relatives when he died, but somehow all that was left of the Kirk family was me and my Uncle Leslie. His wife Jenny and my mother were still around too, but old Oscar had hated them. The worst part was, neither me nor my uncle would get anything until I died or spent seven nights alone in his old house. Thanks, Oscar. Uncle Leslie looked at his options and figured getting me up here would be the better option than killing me, so here I was.<o:p></o:p></div>
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There wasn’t much to speak of, either. Something had stripped the house of anything attractive or pleasing, so that only stiff, hard furniture and naked pipes plunging in and out of slightly decayed walls remained. Most of the light-bulbs were weirdly dark; I could easily imagine sour old Oscar Kirk sitting on his hard chair, staring at the hard table in front of him in the hot, dim glow that had been his only companion for thirty years.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After a meal of canned soup, I went poking around the house. The first floor was really unremarkable, perhaps at some point it could have been a home. I got hungry again and ate another meal of canned soup.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lightning flashed outside through the growing wind, followed by a tremendous clap of thunder that rattled the entire house and echoed around the forest. The vibration left behind the sound of clinking from upstairs, and worse, the sound of a rocking chair rocking that simply would not stop.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I seized a heavy flashlight and marched upstairs to the attic, expecting to stumble my way through the dark to arrest the disturbance. However, the attic was far better lit than the first floor with bright electric lights giving a pleasing glow. There was even an aged Christmas garland across one of the beams, the first bit of decoration I’d seen in the place. A rocking chair sat at the far end of the attic rocking away in the draft of a window that had come slightly open during the thunder. Around the rocking chair was a library, shelves of books and papers, and hanging on the wall that the chair faced was a forearm-length, crooked, dented silver hammer that clicked softly against nails in the wood it hung from. I stalked over to the little library and shut and locked the offensive window. The rocking chair went still, and the clinking hammer hung silent.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The prospect of something to read was already cheering me up, and I bent down to see the titles on the shelves. They were all well-worn books on smithing and metalworking, worn like Oscar Kirk had been reading them religiously for thirty years. I guess he really had.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I picked up a paper from one of the stacks beside the books. It was hard to parse, an ancient handwritten note that read: <i>Ian Doe does not accept free horse-shoes. I will visit his stables to-night.</i> A second paper seemed less ancient, and read: <i>Molly Graves seems uninterested in silver bowl. I will push her harder.</i> Another, newer, paper caught my eye and I took it up; it said in typewritten letters: <i>Grievance: Word is that Leslie is not favoring metalworking. I will have Gordon bring him to my house for a spell.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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That had to be referring to my uncle Leslie, for though it was newer than most of the other notes, the paper was obviously older than me. Gordon was his father’s name, my grandfather. The rest of the notes that I rummaged through were all of similar tone and content, and many looked so old that Oscar Kirk couldn’t possibly have written them himself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The attic didn’t feel bright anymore. Rain roared down outside, and the lights struggled to fight against the growing darkness as the smothered sun sank lower and lower. I went back down the stairs and turned off the lights. The furnace in the heart of the old house kicked on suddenly, and the hammer clinked one more time at the pulse that ran through the frame of the building.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I showered in lukewarm water and put on some of Uncle Oscar’s clothes that had been left for me. They fit well. I threw my towels and my own clothes into a basket.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Les.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oh! I jerked and glanced wildly around the empty room before darting back to the living room. No easy sleep for me that night, no relaxing in the evening. I kept one hand on my flashlight as I sat up in the living room with my back to a solid corner.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was my name where nobody was there to speak it, and it had startled me. It was not the machinations of my own inner voice, because one cannot be startled by their own thoughts, only shocked by hearing them, like one who looks into a mirror and recoils or despises the sound of their own echo. Startling is when the reflection changes during the viewing or the echo returns with an original voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I slept despite it, eventually, because I couldn’t think about it forever. But I could, in dreaming; not even sleep can give a break from thinking, or at least one would not know if it did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A thunderous morning came with clouded sunlight. I had been hoping that a bright day could drive off my evil imaginings. Still, daylight was daylight, and since I wasn’t scaring myself with imagined names I felt better about my situation. I determined to go back up into the attic and poke around a bit before lunch, just for fun.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I sat in the rocking chair and read some from Oscar Kirk’s old books. They were really dry and technical works, so I didn’t get nearly as much amusement out of them as I had intended. I thought about my great uncle sitting where I was sitting, reading the same book I was reading. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He might have just finished reading, and then he might have taken up a note pad and scrawled out a few notes. Perhaps he was thinking about some discussion he might have about his passion. He could have mumbled a few words as he wrote, maybe he was someone who talked to himself. But wouldn’t he have to discuss with himself? Who else was there to talk with? There was nobody, few people he knew were even alive at all, and they were only two men named Leslie who didn’t like metalworking. What a disappointment, but there was still time for him to give them an interest, let them in on the family profession, show them what it was all about. But there was a shadow in the corner as he wrote, and he remembered that they had their own paths, and they had gone far from him. So very far from working with metal, and with tongs, and with a dented silver hammer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I didn’t want to think about that anymore, it was too vivid an image. I put away the image, put away the book, went downstairs, and put the attic out of my mind. I ate soup instead.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the afternoon it got darker as the clouds thickened. If someone had tried, they couldn’t have soured my mood more easily. The darker it grew, the darker I felt. The lights in the house felt dimmer than ever.<o:p></o:p></div>
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CLINK! went something in the attic as the furnace came on. CLINK! ROCK! CLINK! ROCK! and so forth, ad nauseum. I charged upstairs, slammed the reopened window shut, double-checked the lock and found it lacking quality, arrested the rocking chair, and grabbed the crooked silver hammer, putting an end to its quiet rattling. I stalked back down, fetched some tape, stalked back up, and taped the window’s lock so that it couldn’t shake loose again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Les.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I jumped.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Les… Les… Les...”<o:p></o:p></div>
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That wasn’t the wind or my imagination. Something was making a noise that sounded exactly like my name, and I was going to put an end to that as well. I listened this way and that until I caught the silver hammer scraping the wall in just the right way to pronounce my name. No more! I seized the hammer, pulled it off the wall, and stormed back out of the attic.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I put the hammer on a table in the living room and let it lie there, where no ill winds could blow it and it could not speak in dry, tongueless words. I was a little angry about being so startled, as was only natural, so I sat in the chair before the hammer and glowered for a solid hour. I would have glowered longer, but I fell asleep.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Les… Les… Les…” I dreamed, at a forge situated in the living room. My uncle Leslie was there, cowering. Oscar Kirk was there too, but I couldn’t look up and meet his eyes. I was holding the crooked silver hammer like a weight dragging my mind and gaze down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oscar Kirk told me to strike the metal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I brought down the hammer and obeyed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Uncle Leslie stood up and came over. I swung down and struck the metal again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oscar Kirk reprimanded. Uncle Leslie pointed at the metal. I struck down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Suddenly I realized I was dreaming and looked up at Oscar Kirk.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t you think it’s wrong that Leslie put you in front of himself?” said the withered man, and I brought my hammer forward. The jolt woke me up, and a good thing too, because I was about to smash the window with the hammer that I gripped painfully in a white-knuckled fist as I swung it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My own father had mentioned his hammer before. He said it was old and wondered why none of our ancestors had sold it. It wasn’t actually of any use, someone had made it long ago to be decorative and since then it had been a symbol of the family, at least until Oscar Kirk had left it squeaking names on a wall. Now I didn’t really want to see it at all, and most definitely not in my hand. I put it carefully back on the table and sat down, shivering from the strange awakening.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thinking on it, dream-Oscar was right. This should have been the other Leslie’s thing to deal with. It could have been calling either one of us. The silver hammer was fairly valuable, my uncle should have made off with it already. He really should have, I wouldn’t have missed it at all. I wished he would come back just so I could give it to him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I muddled about the rest of the day and went to sleep worried.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the middle of the night I half-woke and looked around the dark living room. Oscar Kirk stood there, pointing at the hammer on the table, barely visible in the billowing darkness.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I will not be paid,” he said. “And you are not required to pay me. Take the hammer and work before your time falls short.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Why me?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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“You must take this gift,” he went on, as though he had not heard me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Give it to my uncle instead, I don’t want it.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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“Take the hammer, Leslie. Imitate me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The heavens split with a terrific bolt of lightning connecting the clouds, and the peal of thunder that resounded shook me to my senses and I jerked upright, looking around for an old man who wasn’t there. I stared at the hammer on the table, and remained staring for hours until morning brought new cloudy light.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I craved the mundane. I ran into the attic, seized an armload of dry technical books on metalworking, ran back down to my dusty corner and began reading as if my life depended on it. I read of forges, metal, tools, weapons, pots, and horse-shoes. I immersed myself in terms far beyond my own understanding. There were sometimes notes written in the margins, contending points or affirming practices. I tried to ignore these, they made it seem too personal; too much like the tradition it was. Maybe, if I understood it, it would stop bothering me. But that’s a fool’s hope.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What was I supposed to do? I had no answer, and the hammer had a clear thought that threatened to drag me to grip it once more. I spent an entire day reading, and that night I kept reading as long as I could before I slept at last. I had no dreams, there was no space of time between when I blinked and woke five hours later to dawn. That only made things worse. I felt silent oppression as if I were trying to hide from a giant who could see me the whole time but I could not tell if it had found me yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I went outside for the first time, and got wet. It was better than being stuck inside the house, but it was still fairly bad. I saw the shed, somewhat damaged, though there were materials inside that could be used to repair it. I went back inside and cleaned up and cowered for the rest of the day, reading again. And after that, I slept where I was.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I dreamed, and I saw Oscar Kirk swinging the crooked silver hammer from side to side, and it grew more crooked with every swing; it dented against the air and deformed and writhed; it was silver in his iron grip. “You could,” he said, “You really could.” I saw that he was not mastered by the hammer, but he was the master of the hammer in my dream.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So, the next day, I took the hammer and went outside. It felt right in my hand, cold, yet familiar. It belonged here, as it had belonged to Oscar Kirk, to his father, to his father’s father, all the way up. It had belonged to my own father, and it belonged to my uncle, but they had not taken it as they should.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I went to the shattered shed and began working. It is quite an experience, using a crooked, dented, silver hammer for repair work. But I went at it with preternatural prowess. I’m not sure what I learned from reading books on metal working, but I felt like a genius brandishing my hammer. Nails, wood, screws, glass; they were all suitable materials for my hammer, and I made glorious progress on the shed throughout the day. I retired in the evening and rested through the night with the hammer still in my belt. I never slept so well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My great work was still lacking, so I went out again. I needed no food and little water throughout the day. Giving in felt very good. I found my purpose, at least for now. It’s hard to describe how much better I was making the shed, and the tool was really the best tool I could have had; the only tool I needed. It was perfect, and I worked the entire day away.<o:p></o:p></div>
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During the night I dreamed of horse-shoeing and of Oscar Kirk smiling broadly. “Look, Leslie, it’s Leslie,” he said. “You’ve got it, right?” I was happy that I could finish what Oscar Kirk couldn’t; I could fix the shed and, really, fix more than only a shed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the morning, as I waited for my uncle to come by, I put the finishing touches on the shed with my trusty gleaming hammer. The day was bright, and the house was cheery. I could almost imagine a smiling man up in the attic window looking down from above.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He came around the corner of the house, hearing the sound of my toil.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What have you done here!?” he cried, seeing my masterpiece.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I turned toward him and showed him my tool, the perfect silver hammer. “I decided to fix the shed after all,” I told him. “I found a great hammer, so I figured I would.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He stared at the windows and beams and planks, but he said nothing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You really should try it,” I said, coming closer to share my hammer. “There’s no obstacles, you must take the hammer and ply it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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You should have seen the look on his face.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Really, you should.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Why don’t you find a crooked silver hammer of your own?<o:p></o:p></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-41458821758334167862020-06-14T02:44:00.000-04:002020-06-14T02:44:39.671-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "The Quest for Horace" -- by Anne Leskey<div class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DfYBaiSn3es/XuXHTR1JgUI/AAAAAAAADUo/hCQVoWrZal8dIZl8n14NPPBSNIvI7SV0wCK4BGAsYHg/s1524/questforhoracecover.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1524" data-original-width="1079" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DfYBaiSn3es/XuXHTR1JgUI/AAAAAAAADUo/hCQVoWrZal8dIZl8n14NPPBSNIvI7SV0wCK4BGAsYHg/s320/questforhoracecover.png" /></a></div><font face="times new roman, serif" size="5"><br /></font></div><div class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;"><font face="times new roman, serif" size="5"><br /></font></div><div class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;"><font face="times new roman, serif" size="5">The Quest for Horace</font></div>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="break-after: avoid; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: bold; margin: 12pt 0in 6pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">By Anne Leskey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Horace has been in our family for a hundred and twenty years, and this Dr. Fye thinks we’ll just sell him? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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This was Kelsey’s indignant thought as she looked at the letter that she had just finished reading. Grandma was in the kitchen, cooking, and Kelsey decided that she’d better go tell her, so that she could have company in her indignation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She left the vestibule, and walked slowly into the kitchen, where the aroma of tomato soup was heavily perfuming the air. Kelsey put the two catalogs and the electric bill onto the table, and then carried the letter over to Grandma, who was humming an old fashioned ditty as she stirred her soup.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Look at this, Grandma,” said Kelsey, pressing the letter flat onto the granite countertop, and taking the stirring spoon so that Grandma could more freely attend to the letter. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandma murmured over the letter for some time, and then sniffed, “Well, doesn’t he think a deal of himself? Complacency just <i><span lang="NL">oozing </span></i>in every overdone word he’s written. Obviously, there’s only one reply.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes. I suppose I’ll email him; did you see that he gave his email address? But anyway, I suppose I’ll email him to make sure that he understands that there is not a chance that we’ll sell Horace.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And look him up, too, dear,” said Grandma, taking back the spoon, “I want to see if he’s a crook, because if he is, he might try to steal Horace. ‘A rare specimen of his dwindling kind’ <span lang="NL">indeed. I</span>’d say there are plenty of tortoises left in the world.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think Dr. Fye must be referring to the specific type of tortoise that Horace is, Grandma,” answered Kelsey, going to the living room to open the lid of her computer, a 2009 laptop. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She punched in her password, and then clicked on her web browser, and solicitously typed in <i>Dr. E. Fye</i>. She referred to the envelope for the state that he was writing from, and quickly put that in too, before hitting the search button. A list of things came up, and Kelsey clicked on the first website that appeared, one which she knew generally was pretty comprehensive when it came to giving away people’s private information. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Before she left the page she had discovered that Dr. Fye was in actually Enger Algernon Fye, aged thirty-three, and had a very good record. He did not appear to have any relatives, and only had three neighbors that were listed. Kelsey sighed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well,” she said, as Grandma came in, “there doesn’t seem to be anything against him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kelsey pressed the back button, and started idly scrolling through the remaining results of her search. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Nothing?” Grandma said, almost anxiously, “Humph. And I was sure that he was a criminal, trying to blackmail us. Well, you can email him to tell him that he can keep his five thousand dollars for all I care, because he is <i>not</i> getting Horace.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kelsey nodded, and opened her email, and proceeded to thoughtfully begin writing,<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Dr. Fye,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>We, my grandmother and I, received your missive concerning the sale of our tortoise. I am sorry if this answer disappoints you, but our answer to your offer of buying him is irrevocably ‘no’. However, we will endeavor to answer any questions that will help you in your research about rare and unique species and breeds. Again, I apologize for being unable to comply with your request.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Sincerely,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="right" class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: right; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i> Kelsey Kirkwood <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Dr. Fye must have been watching his email, for it wasn’t but three minutes later that Kelsey got a reply. Annoyed, she looked at it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Ms. Kirkwood.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Thank you for offering to answer questions. I’m afraid that won’t do. I beg you to inform Mrs. Fairbairn that if five thousand is too little, as doubtless it is for what may be the last of his kind, I will unhesitatingly offer her ten thousand, and the guarantee that her tortoise will come to no harm.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Dr. Enger Fye.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Kelsey showed this reply to her grandmother, and Grandma humphed with dreadful emphasis.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, well,” she said quickly, “So, Horace will come to no harm, will he? And Dr. Fye thinks he has to say that, does he! I’m not going to do anything but suppose that he is absolutely pulling my leg. And does he really think that ten thousand dollars could possibly cover the loss of a tortoise that belonged to my great-great-grandmother, my great-grandmother, my grandmother, my mother, and myself?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I suppose that he, like many people, thinks that money can get one anything,” Kelsey said thoughtfully. “Is the tomato soup burning, Grandma?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No, I took it off the burner. I should like to introduce that man to my opinion of the value of filthy lucre,” Grandma said. She shook her finger emphatically as she instructed Kelsey to send an even more positive refusal, which Kelsey gladly did. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandma went to prepare grilled cheese, while Kelsey opened the door to the enormous room which was occupied by the subject of all this upheaval. He wasn’t in the room, having sauntered out of an open door into a large outdoor area which was walled in, but had every feature possible to promote the happiness of this adored tortoise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<span lang="IT">Horace,</span>” called Kelsey, slipping out into the outdoor area, where Horace was basking on a large rock, overlooking his enormous built-in swimming pool, which was made of the finest materials and cleaned regularly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Horace didn’t look at Kelsey, instead just slowly moving off of his rock into his swimming pool with a comfortable air of leisure. Kelsey sighed, and refreshed his bowl of greens, taking a quick look around to see that all was in order before returning inside and replacing the greens in his sleeping room also, and then she washed her hands and went into the dining room where the lettuce salad, tomato soup, and grilled cheese sandwiches were all set out on the buffet sideboard. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I checked on Horace. He’s perfectly fine,” said Kelsey, sliding into her seat opposite Grandma, “You fed the canaries and the budgerigars, didn’t you, Granny?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes, dear,” said Grandma, “And I fed the dog.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, yes, I can see that,” said Kelsey, pointing at the brown Labrador, which was gulping down its kibbles.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Dear Minnie,” said Grandma affectionately, “She does so like to eat. Did you know, Kelsey, I thought that your brother was going to stop by today, but he hasn’t come yet.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You know how Kyle loves to be late,” said Kelsey, “<span lang="DE">We</span>’ll be hearing him soon, zooming in on that ridiculous motorcycle of his.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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True to his sister’s prediction, it wasn’t ten minutes later that they heard the sound of a motorcycle rumbling past their house, and then screeching to a stop on the gravel driveway. A pause, and then they heard the doorbell ringing violently. Minnie started barking in distress at the noise, and Kelsey went hurriedly down the hallway to the front door, opening it to the sight of her brother standing garbed in leather, with bright blue goggles (matching his motorcycle) and a silvery helmet. He took the latter two things off, and grinned at Kelsey, who looked at him in older-sisterly disapproval. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Hello, Kels. Am I in time for lunch?” he inquired, continuing to smile as he sniffed at the air. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes,” said Kelsey. “Grandma was wondering where you were,” she added, continuing to lead him towards the dining room. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Granny!” he said, happily seizing the bowl of soup she handed him, “How’s everything? Tortoise still alive?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes,” said Grandma with an awful frown. “But do you know, Kyle, someone was actually trying to <i>buy</i> Horace. Buy him! From me! Like he isn’t a multi-generational heirloom.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Who? For what price?” Kyle asked with interest, “How dreadful,” he added, seeing that Kelsey was looking at him with something like suspicion. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Dr. Fye. Dr. Enger Algernon Fye,” said Grandma, “His final offer was ten thousand. Of course I refused.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="NL">Ten, ten </span><i>thousand</i>?” gaped Kyle, “Why, what a pitiful sum for such a priceless treasure as Horace,” he continued, “I don’t wonder you refused him, Granny. You did exactly right. This is awesome soup.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey frowned, as Kyle’s wording made her think again that he was a most mercenary boy. She thought that it almost seemed like he was commending Grandma for not selling because the <i>price</i> was too low, rather then because Horace was something that tied together generations of their maternal line. This jarred on Kelsey, because she really wanted to be proud of her baby brother, but there were times, and more then a few of them, when she just couldn’t be anything but ashamed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
The two of them, despite the six year gap in between them, had been relatively close for nine years, but after Kyle turned nine he also started turning more materialistic, and Kelsey, at fifteen, only viewed money as something that was unfortunately necessary and useful. They both continued in this, so that at twenty-five and nineteen they were very much different in their mindsets. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, I’ve got to run,” said Kyle, “Or I’ll be late for my history class. Starts in fifteen minutes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“But, Kyle,” said Kelsey, “The entrance of your college is ten minutes from here. You <i>will</i> be late.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kyle grinned. “Prof won’t mind. Half the people are always late to history.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
He jauntily waved his hand, crushed his helmet back onto his head, snapped on his goggles, yanked on his gloves, and proceeded to run out of the door, jump onto his motorcycle, and roar off down the road. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“That boy,” said Grandma, “has no practicality.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, he’s young,” said Kelsey hopefully. “But I do wish he’d get to his classes on time. It’s bad enough, the grades he gets.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She sighed, knowing that Kyle got as many ‘B’s and ‘C’s as was compatible with not failing. She had been so different when she had gone through those four years that she had taken. So far, she hadn’t needed either of her two degrees, but she was planning to start looking for a job next summer. Of course, she didn’t need one. She had been working for three years as Grandma’s secretary and companion, and also she had a small side career of writing stories and papers which paid her a pittance, but Kelsey thought it would be a shame to waste her degrees. Kyle, on the other hand, admittedly was just going to college ‘for the fun of it’, and that caused both Grandma and Kelsey a great deal of concern. Mr. and Mrs. Kirkwood had no fears, for generally whatever Kyle did was perfection to their biased minds. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh. Dr. Fye says that we can stipulate a sum. Apparently he doesn’t comprehend the meaning of the word no,” sighed Kelsey, looking at her computer screen disdainfully. “He suggests thirty thousand! He, or whatever organization he’s associated with, if he is associated with one, must be fabulously wealthy.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“My dear, the time has come for drastic measures, or he’ll keep pestering you. Give him the dictionary definition of ‘no,’ as it pertains to a refusal, and see if he can worm his way out of that one,” suggested Grandma.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey, with an obstinately set face, did exactly that, and then turned off her computer, determined to ignore any further emails he might send. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’ll wash the dishes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Alright, dear. I think I might just have forty winks, then,” said Grandma complacently. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey, smiling at the invariable phrase Grandma used to describe a nap, set about scrubbing the dishes in the hot, soapy water. She thought she heard a door click somewhere. Kelsey dried her hands on an apron, and walked through the house, but she didn’t see anything amiss, so she went and got a drying towel and proceeded to put the pots and pans into their proper places in the enormous pantry. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
After doing this, she opened up her computer to access the paper she was working on, and saw that she’d gotten an email. Sighing, she opened it, and then her eyes widened, as she saw one sentence written in all caps, bold, and with a dark red font color:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<b>YOU WILL REGRET YOUR DECISION<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You don’t say,” she commented calmly, marking the email with a star, and putting it into one of her organizational folders, bearing the label of ‘threats.’ <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She closed her browser, opened her favorite word processor, and calmly continued writing her article about animal shelters. It was so important that they be run properly, as Kelsey knew from several summers of volunteer work. They’d gotten Minnie from a shelter, which was an excellent feature to work into her story. Besides, she had pictures of Minnie while the latter was still in the shelter which would—she thought she heard a car revving in the yard. Kelsey stood up, indignant, and went towards the window, but the only car was in the neighbor’s yard, and there didn’t appear to be tire tracks in the grass, so she supposed it had just sounded closer then it was.<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey went back to her paper, after brewing a cup of coffee. Grandma’s forty winks was lasting a considerable time. Kelsey finished her paper, hunted up the appropriate pictures of Minnie, played with the canaries and budgerigars for a few minutes, and took the dog outside, while simultaneously making sure that the Rhode Island Red chickens were getting along amiably. When she came back in, Grandma was still sleeping, so Kelsey went into the enormous kitchen and started making s<span lang="IT">tromboli. </span><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out, to see a text message from Kyle:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i><span lang="NL">won</span>’t be home going to Justins house.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey stared at the message, and then responded with an acknowledgment of his information, and a sarcastic reflection upon his lack of punctuation and capitalization. She put the stromboli in the oven, and went outside for some lettuce. She realized that though she had missed the tire tracks before, there were some. Angry, she snipped more lettuce then she needed, and carried it into the house. The lawn, the product of many hours of research and organic care, was Kelsey’s especial pride, and it enraged her that some trespassing ninny should have run their dirty tires all over her lush grass. At least, she reflected as she rinsed the greens, they did not run over the flowerbeds. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, thank you, Kels. I slept longer then I meant to,” said Grandma, looking approvingly at the dinner preparations. “Did anything happen while I was away?”<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Apparently someone drove their truck over our property,” said Kelsey, draining the lettuce leaves, and setting them aside to make room for the compilation of the salad dressing, “but nothing but the grass seems to have been hurt. I thought I heard a car earlier, but I didn’t catch them at it, unfortunately.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Not much harm done, then,” said Grandma. “The chickens alright?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes! I made sure to count them, earlier, even before I knew the truck had gone through. All six are still there. And I took Minnie for her walk, but I haven’t checked on Horace since this morning,” Kelsey said, opening the oven to see the progress that was going on in there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Grandma went to visit with her tortoise, and Kelsey finished her cookery, taking the result into the dining room and setting the table. Grandma came back, disappointed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Horace must be in one of his hideaways.” she said, “I had hoped that he’d be in a companionable mood, but I suppose it’s just as well, because you’ve got dinner ready. Where’s Kyle, Kelsey?”<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“He’s staying at Justin Bronson’s house, apparently,” said Kelsey disapprovingly, “He didn’t specify if it was just for tonight or for the weekend, but…well, anyway, he won’t be turning up for supper.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Youthful gadabout,” said Grandma, pulling out her chair, and sitting down in it with a creak and a groan. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey ate supper comfortably, but just as she was going to retrieve the chocolate cake, she felt a sudden headache. Ignoring it, she brought out their dessert, cut generous slices, piled some fudge sauce on top, and retrieved the monogrammed spoons. Grandma ate heartily, and Kelsey forced the food down. It was delicious, as all Grandma’s cakes were, but the headache was persistent. It wasn’t a painful one, it was just a dull, steady sensation which wasn’t enough to complain about, but was more then enough to make existing more uncomfortable than it should have been. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
As the evening progressed, there was a positive throbbing in her head, and although the pain lessened until she wondered if she could even be said to have a headache, there was something in her head that she didn’t understand. She decided finally that she must just be tired. She’d been up early, and her paper had caused her some more difficulty then she’d expected.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I think I’ll go to bed early tonight, Grandma,” said Kelsey, “I’ve shut the chickens up, so I’ll just refresh Horace’s food.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She went into the tortoise’s large bedroom to do this, but found that he was still hiding. Placing the food and water carefully in his favorite feeding location, she got herself into the shower, and then crashed onto her bed, with the sense of something growing in her mind, welling up, as it were. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She tried to fall asleep, but the growth was still growing, and so she lay awake until dawn, trying to ignore it, and thereby concentrating on it all the more. When morning finally came, she walked into Horace’s room, not quite sure why, and then stopped short. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Horace invariably came out at dawn to take his morning swim and eat his morning lettuce, but swim and lettuce notwithstanding Horace was not there. She had been confident that he’d been hiding, so she hadn’t checked his hiding spots. Kelsey quickly went towards them, trying to remedy her mistake, and searched, hoping that he hadn’t died. He likely hadn’t, but whether he did or not, he was not anywhere in his enclosure, indoors or outdoors. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey bit back a frantic scream, and rushed into the main part of the house, and found Grandma composedly eating her oatmeal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Grandma, Horace is gone,” Kelsey said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Nonsense. Did you check all his places?” Grandma said, sprinkling her oatmeal with cinnamon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes,” Kelsey said insistently, “I think he’s been stolen.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Grandma abandoned her porridge, “Kelsey, I know exactly who did it. Dr. Enger Algernon Fye is behind this, or my name isn’t Dorothea Fairbairn. I’m going to call 9-1-1, and then….”<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Ow,” burst out Kelsey, as the throbbing in her head finally escalated. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Help. Dark. No. Lettuce. Where’s. Girl. Help</i>.<b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Grandma, I can hear him,” said Kelsey, “Grandma, I can <i>hear </i>Horace in my head.”<b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Grandma stared. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I have to follow him,” Kelsey added. “I’ll take my SUV. I’ve just got to pack. He’ll lead me there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Alright, dear,” said Grandma, “You get your clothes, and I’ll pack you some food. Don’t forget your wallet. I’ll still call the police.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey reflected, throwing the necessary items into a backpack with quick movements, that it was fortunate that she had such a grandmother. She and Grandma packed her SUV in a matter of moments. Kelsey reviewed everything, didn’t think she had forgotten anything, and gave Grandma a goodbye hug, before getting into the driver’s seat, buckling in, and turning the key. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Now that Horace’s voice was sounding in her head, the pain and throbbing had completely vanished. She merely could attune her mind to that section, and hear him. She couldn’t tell how to respond, for when she tried, there was no response. There was merely a repetition of the words he’d thought earlier. Kelsey realized something else, too. While he was at the house, constantly accessible, she’d never heard his thoughts, but the further he went away, the easier she could hear him. She thought it likely that if she concentrated hard enough, now that she knew how, she’d be able to hear him closer up, too. But for now, she just had to follow the sound in her head, for she could tell what direction it was coming from, and she was tolerably certain that she was on the correct path. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Strangely, she wasn’t perturbed by the fact that she could hear Horace’s voice in her head, nor did she bother about how she knew it was him. It seemed as if it was right and fitting, and that there had always been something indefinable missing hitherto. Her mind was connected with that of a tortoise’s, and Kelsey could not have cared less about the oddity of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Such. A. Bumpy. Place. Where. Is. My. Water. I. Want. To. Swim.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="NL">Poor Horace,</span>” breathed Kelsey, carefully keeping her speed at precisely the speed limit, and wishing all the while that it wasn’t merely a country road, but a highway on which she’d be able to go seventy, rather than forty. Normally she didn’t enjoy driving fast…but there were exceptions. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Once the thought that Kyle might have had something to do with Horace’s kidnapping crossed Kelsey’s mind, but she dismissed it. He was at Justin Bronson’s. In fact, Kelsey was so sure of this, that she decided to text Justin and confirm it. She pulled over, and produced her phone, her face a little pale.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Hi Justin, this is Kelsey. Is Kyle there?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A second later, Justin’s reply came.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>No. I asked him, but he said that he’d be at your house.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey frowned, and wrote back, <i>He said that he was going to your place. Which means he was lying, and I think he just stole my grandmother’s tortoise.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Why would Kyle steal Mrs. Fairbairn’s tortoise?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Because a Dr. Fye was willing to pay thousands of dollars for Horace</i>.<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey would not have normally told someone that she suspected that her brother had stolen her grandmother’s tortoise, but the Bronsons and the Kirkwoods had been good friends for some eight years, and Kelsey figured that Justin might as well be told as not. He might be able to help, but it didn’t seem likely, for it had been three minutes and he hadn’t replied. Probably he couldn’t think of anything to say, but just as she was going to continue, for Horace’s thoughts were more emphatic when she allowed herself to hear them, the pinging noise of a received text sounded. Kelsey picked up her phone, and read<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Kyle always has been fond of money. Do you really think he would have gone to that length, though? What measures are you taking, Kelsey?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Grandma called the police, and I’m searching in my SUV, because I can tell what direction Horace is traveling. </i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Do you have a GPS attached to him?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>No, I can hear his thoughts.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A short pause.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Are you joking?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i><span lang="IT">No.</span></i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>You can hear a tortoise’s thoughts?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Precisely.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Are you feeling well, Kelsey?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Yes. I know it’s unbelievable, but I can hear them. You’ll just have to believe me, I suppose, because I can’t offer proof at the moment.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Where are you?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey sent her location, and then waited, wishing that Justin would stop asking questions so that she could continue driving.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>I’m going to come with you. If Kyle stole it, and Dr. Fye is in on it, then you might need help. Can you wait where you are for half an hour?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>I suppose. You likely are right. I might have to take Horace back by force.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Exactly. See you soon.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey put her phone back in her pocket after responding to this farewell, and waited patiently by the road for Justin to appear. He soon did so, driving a smallish, old-fashioned car. Kelsey waved, and started driving, with Justin following. Kelsey’s phone rang, and she quickly accepted the call, seeing that it was from Justin.<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>I thought that I could call you, and then we could converse easier if we need to say something</i>.”<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, okay,” said Kelsey, “So I should just leave my phone…phoning?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>Yes</i>.”<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey agreed, and then carefully drove in the direction she was hearing the thoughts from. They seemed to be coming from the north, and she couldn’t only hope that she wasn’t mistaken in supposing that. Justin was following her patiently, apparently having accepted the fact that she was guiding herself and him on the basis of thoughts that she was gleaning from a tortoise.<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey concentrated harder suddenly, for the thoughts seemed to be slipping away a little, but she quickly regained control of them, and almost was encouraged, for she thought the momentary difficulty might mean that they were getting closer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Ah. Light. Water. Food. They. Are. Treating. Me. Properly. But. Where. Is. Girl</i>.<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey willed her thoughts as best she could into the corner of her mind where she felt and heard these words, and felt that she had properly sent back the words, <i>Horace, this is Kelsey. I’m coming for you, me and Justin Bronson. It won’t be long.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Help. Is. On. The. Way. I. Will. Eat. </i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey sighed in relief, and then managed to ask Horace to keep thinking, so she could guide herself to the spot where he was. Horace conveniently continued thinking two words, and that was ‘<span lang="IT">lettuce</span>,’ consistently followed by ‘dandelions’. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>Kels? Are you still there?”</i> inquired Justin’s voice, coming through Kelsey’<span lang="IT">s phone. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yeah,” said Kelsey, keeping her eyes fixed on the road, “Is something the matter?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>No. I just didn’t know if the connection had broken, or something. You’ve not spoken in awhile</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, I’ve managed to establish a complete connection between myself and Horace. We can hear <i>each other’s</i>thoughts, so I can communicate with him. Unfortunately, he thinks very choppily, but it’s getting easier to decipher as I become more used to it,” Kelsey responded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>“Alright. I need to pull into this gas station, I forgot to fill up before I left home</i>.”<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I need more gasoline, also,” Kelsey answered, so she moved her car so that they both pulled into the filling station at the same time, Kelsey wishing that cars didn’t need filling up so much. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She turned off her car, and got out, starting to pump the gasoline into her tank. Justin got out a second later, and began filling up his own vehicle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Are we getting closer, do you know?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Maybe a little. It’s getting more difficult to access his mind,” Kelsey said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“But wouldn’t that mean that he’s getting farther away?” Justin inquired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Perhaps it should work like that, but I don’t think it does,” Kelsey answered, taking the fuel dispenser nozzle out of her truck, and hanging it back up. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’m going to run in and get chewing gum,” said Justin.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Alright. I won’t continue until you come back out,” Kelsey said, driving her car out of the filling station, and putting into the more common parking lot. Justin did the same, and then got out of his car and jogged towards the small convenient store that was just behind the station. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey waited impatiently, until he came back out, and then got into her car, starting off again, once more with the phone lying on the passenger seat of her car, in an ongoing phone call from Justin. She could feel in her bones (and mind) that they were getting closer, despite the hours of disparity in their travel time. But then again, they might have reached their destination, which would mean that Kelsey and Justin were getting much closer all the time. Horace’s thoughts were of no use, for no matter how she questioned him, all he’d think was thoughts pertaining to food. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>Well, Kelsey? Are we nearly there?”</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Apparently Justin was thinking along similar lines. Kelsey sighed, drumming her fingertips on the steering wheel for a second before replying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Horace is being disobliging, Justin…he’s just thinking about his little tortoise stomach, instead of being rescued.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>How very like a tortoise</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How do you know what a tortoise is like?” shot back Kelsey.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>“I was trying to sound profoundly intelligent</i>.”<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh. But I have to get Horace back, you know. Grandma will have a conniption if anything happens to him, and justly. Why, we’ve had him since 1900.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>Surely not you and your grandmother, that long</i>.” Justin was clearly amused.<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey was not amused, and her voice betrayed the fact as she said, “No. Our family. My grandmother Holly Smith Ogleby was the first to own him. You know that, I’ve told you.”<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>I forgot the name, Kels</i>,” Justin protested. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey sighed, and then slammed on her brakes, just as a car passed inches within the front of her car. She had been going forwards at an intersection, undeniably having the right of way, and the other vehicle had whisked across her path. She heard a shout from her phone, for the close encounter had evidently alarmed Justin more than Kelsey, who had been driving for nine years, and had had that sort of experience more than once. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>Is your car alright, Kels</i>?” <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes. Please stop talking, I’m trying to concentrate. Horace’s head-voice is getting harder to tune into,” Kelsey replied.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Food. Is. Gone. There. Are. Fake. Lights. I. Want. To. Swim. Kelsey. Come.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>It’s alright, Horace, I’m on my way. I think I’m getting closer. Are you stopped? Is whatever you’re on in motion?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A deep pause in Kelsey’s mind, and then a snappish.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i><span lang="IT">No.</span></i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey sighed, relieved. <i>Then you must be at your destination. Were you moved from the vehicle you were in?</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Yes. This. Is. Alarming. Never. Did. Anything. Like. This. Before.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>You’ll be fine, just hold on</i>.<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>Kelsey, are you sure you know where we’re going</i>?” Justin asked in a justly alarmed voice, as they set off down the most intricately difficult road imaginable, full of hills and sharp corners. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Absolutely not,” said Kelsey, “I’m just going off of the general impression in my mind.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>I can’t drive this. I’ve only been driving for a year</i>!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Can’t you manage?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>I’m </i>attempting <i>it</i>,” admitted Justin, “<i>But look at those cliffs that we could fall off of at any time</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We won’t,” reassured Kelsey, not at all sure of it. “But this is the way we have to go, and—Justin!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
They had just reached a more secure but very bumpy part of the road, and Justin’s car seemed to absolutely stop working, going crazily out of control, and spinning off of the road. Kelsey screamed as it smashed dramatically into a clump of trees. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey instantly stopped her vehicle, making sure to leave it some distance away, snatched up her phone, and yelled into it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="DA">ARE YOU KILLED?</span>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>I don’t know</i>,” answered Jason.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey sighed, relieved, and then hovered a little closer towards the wreckage of the old vehicle. The front, the left side, and the trunk were all completely smashed. Justin crept out, for the driver’s seat appeared to have not gotten much injury. He had a bruise rapidly forming on his forehead, but had had the sense to slam a pillow in front of the window shield, and most of the glass shards from the ruin of the pane appeared to have gotten caught in it, and none of them were stuck in him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey and Justin stared blankly at the mess, which was quietly smoking in the midst of the tall trees.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What happened?” Kelsey demanded, “Were you being a distracted driver, Just?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No,” Justin said defensively, “The car stopped working.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“At least you’re not injured,” Kelsey said, continuing to stare at the wreck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin absentmindedly started taking photos, “Do you imagine it’s even remotely important that I am not injured?” he demanded. “Kelsey, I just totaled Dad’s 1970ish car! He loves that thing…loved…that thing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It’s Mr. Bronson’s car?” Kelsey said, duly alarmed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“YES!” screeched Justin, “He took <i>my</i> pickup to work, because he thought there was something wrong with the brakes or something on…that…but I looked it over after your text message, and I didn’t see anything out of place, and then…well, look at it! It’s a complete ruin, and I shall be in dire disgrace for thirty years.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, don’t you have superfluous numbers of cars are your place?” asked Kelsey, recovering.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“None of them are from 1973,” grimaced Justin. “That was Dad’s pride and joy. And justly…why, the poor car was forty-seven years old, Kelsey.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I doubt it cared,” said Kelsey consolingly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Look at it!” Justin bemoaned. “I murdered the poor thing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Justin…it’<span lang="PT">s a car.</span>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin sniffed, “How would you feel if you’d just wrecked your Dad’<span lang="IT">s favorite car?</span>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I probably would feel very happy. Dad’s car is revolting,” answered Kelsey, “Sorry, Just, but I’ve got to go find Horace. I really need to locate him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’ll come with you. You should leave your car. This is dangerous ground to drive on,” Justin said, “Kelsey, how am I going to tell my father?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Does your father attend to social media?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="IT">No.</span>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Pity. You could have posted it, and then he could have gotten angry on the internet, and you wouldn’t have had to face him,” said Kelsey compassionately, “I suppose you could call him?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Never,” said Justin, “I’ll help you find your tortoise, but—you know, Kelsey, it’s been a really long time since I visited my sister.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“But doesn’t she live in France, now? After marrying that exchange student?” Kelsey inquired, startled.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Exactly,” said Justin, “Dad hates traveling.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
They were walking down the twisting path by now, Kelsey trying to attend to both Horace’s voice and Justin’s lamentations, but she found the latter a little annoying, not quite able to comprehend how anyone could make such a fuss about a vehicle, not aware of Mr. Bronson’s deep affection for any vehicle over ten years of age, especially the one that Justin had just smashed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
It was getting harder and harder to hear Horace’s thoughts, and Kelsey rejoiced at that, for she realized that it meant she was getting closer, and she expected that she’d find the place he was in at the end of this incredibly long lane. She had a sneaking suspicion that Dr. Fye was fond of privacy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Doubtless in order to torture innocent tortoises,” she explained out loud.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What?” Justin asked, blankly, having been staring miserably at the sky for a few moments of the depths of his self-pity and genuine grief for the loss of the dear little car. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Nothing,” said Kelsey. “This looks like a place my sister Kayla would enjoy. Trees, privacy, and a number of insects. Really, it’s bothersome how many gnats there appear to be in this spot.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Gnats?” hollowly echoed Justin, “You can speak of gnats with the picture of that poor, forlorn, abused wreckage yet lingering in your mind? Or have you already forgotten it? Kelsey, what if she haunts me?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“She? <i>Justin, you wrecked a car! </i>You didn’t murder someone.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin sighed heavily, “It feels like it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, I don’t imagine anyone will ever have to worry about you becoming a criminal. Oh yeah, this is definitely a place that Kayla would love,” said Kelsey, staring up at a dilapidated old building, covered in lichen and ivy, and with broken things everywhere. Dark and tall trees were spread around, and overgrown hedges abounded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
For a moment Justin forgot his trouble, “Wow, it looks like one of those enchanted fortresses that one sees in cartoon adaptions of fairy tales.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It’s not a fortress,” said Kelsey impatiently, “It’s just a very old and worn-out house. Probably spider infested, and absolutely filthy, but I suppose we’ll have to enter it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We can’t just enter it, Kels.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, I’ll knock of course,” said Kelsey easily. “They can’t just steal Grandma’s tortoise. Of course, you don’t have to come along.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin sighed heavily. “If I’m slain in there, I suppose I could be buried with the car? A double headstone, you know. Justin Charles Bronson, born July 4, 1994, died Oct 16, 2020 and then right next to <i>my</i> tombstone, there could be Guinevere “Bug” Bronson, born 1973, died Oct 16, 2020. Do you suppose it would be feasible, Kels?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Possibly,” Kelsey said, restraining a burst of laughter, and climbing nimbly up the three broken stone steps to the tattered door, and banging on it quite vehemently. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You know, it really is quite sad,” Justin said, when nobody immediately opened the door. “I’m only twenty-six and I have already ruined my life so far as to have to contemplate running to France for safety.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How alarming,” Kelsey said, eyeing the door with some trace of anger on her features. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="NL">Poor Marie,</span>” <span lang="DA">Justin sighed</span>. “She’ll be so disappointed in me, when she learns why I turned up at her doorstep, begging entrance.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Justin, you really don’t need to get so depressed because you accidentally wrecked a car. Cars are cars, not people. Besides, think of <i>my</i> situation. Here I am, able to hear the thoughts of a very precious tortoise, that could be about to be killed by some mad scientist.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, yes, but at least you didn’t wreck your Dad’s—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“2020 hideous monstrosity? That’s what <i>he</i> has,” filled in Kelsey with an impatient sigh. “Nobody appears to be opening the—<span lang="IT">Hello.</span>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
This last word was addressed to a tall, pale man who opened the door. He had a thin face, thick curls, enormous glasses over small eyes, the most peculiar nose imaginable, and a rather large mouth with equally large teeth, which he was showing in an unfriendly grin, which he didn’t appear to be conscious of. His clothes were rather shabby and dramatic, and he had a quill pen perched jauntily behind his ear. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Hello. You remind me of someone,” said the man dreamily. “<span lang="IT">Come in,</span>” he added sweetly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey and Justin came in, Kelsey looking rather angry, and the stranger appearing perfectly unconscious of it. He waved them majestically to a threadbare couch of a rather damp and moldy appearance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What has gone wrong?” he continued smilingly, looking at them through his absurdly humongous glasses.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You stole my Grandma’s tortoise,” said Kelsey bluntly, “Or at least, know who did.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Did I?” asked the man absentmindedly, “Dear me. How did I go about it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Kelsey. “But I am not going to have gone through that long ride of insufferable difficulties in trying to keep track of Horace’s thoughts, only to come across your pretended innocence. I know that you are Dr. Fye, and that you stole Horace the tortoise, and I’m tolerably certain that my baby brother aided you in your crime.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How very vehement,” smiled the man dreamily. “I really can’t remember doing any of that, but I suppose maybe I did. I thought I paid the young man. Oh well, it likely doesn’t matter much.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It matters tremendously,” Kelsey blurted. “Horace isn’t for sale, and here Justin’s totaled his dad’s car to get here, and you might at least stop being so heartless and tell us if the tortoise is here!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Heartless? No, no,” answered the man anxiously, “I’m just not in the habit of feeling with my blood pumping organ. I really have some doubts about its emotional capacity. I don’t know what you’re talking about though, so I must call in help.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“If you try and fight us, I will knock you to the floor!” Kelsey said excitedly, “I <i><span lang="FR">demand</span></i> the return of our tortoise.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="DE">Don</span>’t get agitated,” soothed the man. “Just let me find her, and she’ll comprehend it, I think. Do we have the tortoise? I suppose we might. Everything’s possible in this peculiar little existence of ours. That’s really a supremely comforting thought, by times.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
He gently sauntered out of the room, and came back with a youngish woman whose appearance made Kelsey stand up in absolute shock.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You! Kayla, what are you doing here? How…how <i><span lang="IT">dare</span></i> you?” she gasped excitedly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kelsey, what are you talking about?” said the woman, who was evidently Kayla Kirkwood, Kelsey’s older sister. “This is my home.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Your home? But, Kayla, you’re living with Aunt Melissa, finishing graduate school.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No. Kelsey, didn’t Mom and Dad tell you? Why, I texted them three weeks ago, telling them that I got married five weeks ago,” said Kayla in a surprised voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="DE">Mom</span>’s phone died that week, and Dad never checks his messages,” said Kelsey in a small voice, “You’re married? To <i>him</i>? Surely not to <i>him</i>?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Of course,” said Kayla, looking hurt, “And why are you here, if you didn’t know that I was?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kayla, he and Kyle stole Horace.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Stole Horace?! But Kelsey, after your refusal, Kyle turned up and said that you’d agreed, so Enger paid him fifteen thousand, and he took it to take to Grandma. Did he?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span lang="DA">Kelsey sighed, </span>“No, Kay, he didn’t. Why didn’t you just openly ask for Horace? What did you want with him anyway? I don’t <i><span lang="DE">understand</span></i>, Kayla.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kayla Kirkwood Fye proceeded to explain. It appeared that she and Enger had hatched the plan of asking Grandma for the tortoise under guise of not knowing Grandma, and that they thought it would be an excellent way to give Grandma some more spending cash. And besides, they planned completely to return Horace as soon as possible. But the reason they wanted him, was because Enger had been doing research—<span lang="DE">here Enger</span>’s sister-in-law shot him a very disbelieving look—and they were tolerably certain that Horace was no ordinary tortoise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, besides the fact that he and I have a telepathic connection, I don’t know that there’s anything unusual about him, except for that he’s a hundred and twenty years old.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I thought that would be it,” smiled Enger Fye, smiling benignly at Kelsey. “Telepathy is really so interesting, and so very rare. You are really quite fortunate…do you have a name?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kelsey. Hasn’t Kayla mentioned me? I’m her only sister,” Kelsey said, sounding hurt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kayla sniffed, “Nobody responded to my message about getting married. I thought nobody cared, but I <i>have</i>mentioned you. It’s just that Eng doesn’t always comprehend unimportant things like his wife’s sister’s name. He knows that I’m Kayla…I think.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Did I do something?” Enger asked innocently, “But, did we pay the young man, dear?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes, Eng,” said Kayla. “Of course, he didn’t know that I was here, either, I suppose, come to think of it. Of course, we’ll return the tortoise immediately. Did Justin come in a separate car? He could take Horace back, while we search for Kyle.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin sniffed, “I came in a car. But I totaled it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh dear. Well, you have a good job. You can get another,” said Kayla kindly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It was my dad’s 1973 pride and joy,” Justin said, in a quavering voice. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Bother. Well, you can take our car.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin nodded, “Alright.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey looked apprehensive for a second, and then nodded, “Well, where do we go to find Kyle?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I don’t know,” said Enger, smiling, “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” he asked vaguely.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No, Eng,” said Kayla, “Everything’s fine. Justin, here’s the car key. You’ll find my car and Horace in the garage out back. There’s a GPS in it, so you’ll be fine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin nodded, taking the key and walking outside, evidently pleased with this opportunity to revive his confidence in his driving skills. Kelsey could only hope he wouldn’t pass by the mess that he’d created earlier. She had slightly recovered from the shock that her sister had gotten married and gotten married to <i><span lang="DE">such</span></i> a person, but she was now more eager than ever to catch her brother.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“He would hardly go back to college,” she remarked, getting off of the couch and pacing, “and he has so many friends.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Perhaps Dana’s place?” suggested Kayla. “Fiancées are always so convenient when one needs a place to hide after stealing one’s grandmother’s tortoise.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kyle doesn’t <i>have</i> a fiancée,” said Kelsey.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, but he does,” persisted Kayla. “<span lang="DE">We</span>’re friends on Facebook. She’s not very far from here, just in Smithfield.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span lang="DA">Kelsey sighed, </span>“Alright. We can take my car, since Justin has yours. What did you say that Kyle’s fiancée was named?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Danielle Worthington, but everyone calls her Dana,” Kayla said breezily. “So, let’s go get into your car. I think that Justin has left. Enger, come along. Kelsey’s going to drive us to Smithfield to find my brother Kyle.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Enger smiled beautifully. “Alright.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
He walked amiably out of the house, and seemed to almost float along the driveway towards the place where Kelsey had deposited her vehicle. Kelsey unlocked her car, and slid into the driver’s seat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Do you know the way to Smithfield?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Not exactly.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I don’t suppose you brought a GPS or Maps?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I was going off of Horace.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Then I’ll drive,” said Kayla, gesturing for Kelsey to leave the steering wheel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey, recognizing the justice of Kayla’s suggestion, amicably left the seat to her sister, and got into the back, next to her newly discovered brother-in-law. Kayla turned on the engine and flew across her impossible road, apparently quite used to all the corners and cliffs that abounded upon it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
After about fifteen minutes of silent driving, Enger starting silently singing hymns to himself, swaying his head from side to side as he enunciated the lyrics. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You wrote those emails,” accused Kelsey, looking at her sister’s reflection in the mirror that was hanging from the middle of the front of the car. “But then why did you say I’d regret my decision?” she added.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kayla smiled, “Oh, yes. Well, you couldn’t except <i><span lang="NL">Enger</span></i> to write an email? The poor fellow doesn’t understand computers. And as for that, I just thought that it <i>might</i> prompt you to do something, and I thought you likely would regret it if Horace turned out to have <i>dangerous</i> magical propensities.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey silently thought that her sister might have at least married someone who knew how to send an email, but she had enough sense not speak the thought aloud. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“That really was a dreadful wreckage, when we passed Justin’<span lang="PT">s car,</span>” Kayla continued, “Doesn’t Mr. Bronson like that thing? Bad luck for Justin.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Apparently it’s Mr. Bronson’s pride and joy, but I doub<span lang="NL">t he</span>’ll be too upset. Justin’s his favorite son.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Justin’s his only son,” said Kayla.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I think he counts his son-in-law—but of course, Marie and Pierre Moreau are in France, so Mr. Bronson can’t get very well acquainted with <i>him</i>,” answered Kelsey. “Kayla, you are going to have to tell Mom and Dad that you’re married.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, yes, I suppose I will. But if I have to actually face them everyone’s going to end up in tears. Kelsey, <i>please</i> tell them for me,” pleaded Kayla. “You know how anxious they were for me to have a spectacular career and get rich and be the prototype of a successful girl. They won’t appreciate that I just want to take care of a rundown house and have a garden and a cat.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well,” said Kelsey resignedly, “alright.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Thanks, Kels. You’re such a darling,” Kayla said, apparently relieved, and also picking up her pace, which had slackened a little. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Are you going the speed limit?” Kelsey asked suspiciously. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, yes. We’re only about half an hour away here,” Kayla said, subtly lessening the pressure on her gas pedal, noticing that she was going ten miles above the speed limit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
They reached the place, a neat white house with a prim lawn, a fountain, and a St. Bernard dog lounging around the yard in the charge of a sharp-faced woman. A girl of about seventeen was lounging comfortably on the porch, swinging her feet as she sat in a rocking chair. She bounced up when she saw who had pulled in, and hurriedly went inside, slamming the door in their faces. The woman and St. Bernard vanished also.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“That’<span lang="FR">s encouraging,</span>” said Kayla. “This definitely means that Kyle is here. I bet he’s afraid to meet Kelsey.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey looked grim. “He should be,” she said darkly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey and Kayla went up to the door, and proceeded to soundly knock and use the doorbell with persistence. Enger meanwhile sailed over towards a window, and smiled and waved into it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Is Kyle there?” Kayla asked him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Enger smiled again, “Look, it’s that nice young man I paid.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh,” Kayla said grumpily.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Enger looked alarmed. “Was I not supposed to pay him?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It doesn’t matter, Eng.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Enger nodded, relievedly and abstractedly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Finally the door opened, and the girl was smiling at them. She was rather pretty, lots of pink hair, big brown eyes, a tan complexion, and a perpetual, very lipsticked smile. Her face was a bit flushed at the moment, but she welcomed them in. Kyle was out of sight, and Kelsey frowned ominously, though she was a little pleased. At least he <i>knew</i><span lang="NL"> he</span>’d done something to be disapproved of. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Who is this?” Dana asked, looking at Kelsey, “She looks a bit like Kyle.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Our sister, Kelsey.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, he’s told me about <i>you</i>,” Dana said in a very unflattering voice, “You used to be really close with Ky, weren’t you?” she added sweetly, “Such a shame he found out that your personality was so incompatible with his charming nature.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Speaking of Kyle, I want to see my brother, now,” said Kayla firmly, eyeing Dana.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kyle? I haven’t seen Ky for…oh, two months now,” Dana said in a surprised voice, raising one over-plucked eyebrow. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“But I just saw him in the window,” Enger remarked absently. “I think.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You’re not deceiving us, Dana. He <i>must</i> give Enger and Kayla back their fifteen thousand dollars. <i>NOW!”</i> Kelsey seldom raised her voice without good purpose and effect. Dana started trembling, casting uncertain glances at her visitors. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She finally burst into tears, “But Kyle <i>can’t</i> give it back. He’s in debt. His motorcycle payments have gone so far back, and he thought he could make it up with this. And he’s already spent the dollars, and I think it’s very mean of his family to let him suffer because they won’t pay for his motorcycle.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“He shouldn’t have bought something he couldn’t afford,” said Kelsey shortly. “Now, you just march over and grab my brother, and bring him here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Y-you can’t control me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“And he’s just committed a theft. Would you prefer him to be subjected to <i><span lang="FR">our</span></i> judgment, or that of the police?” said Kelsey.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Alright,” sniffled Dana, fluttering nervously out of the room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey, Kayla, and Enger waited on the flowery sofa, watching the St. Bernard snore by the fireplace, and looking around the room which was overdone and incongruous in its various fabrics and wooden accents. It was a very cheap looking room, in the sense of gaudy, and not of inexpensive. Kelsey shuddered, and wished she was back at Grandma’s, where everything was neat, tidy, and harmonious. Kayla appeared to be wishing herself away too, although Kelsey couldn’t honestly say that <i>she</i> preferred the rundown mansion of Kayla’s to the well-built, if hideous, house they were in now. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kyle slowly approached, skulking behind Dana, who was looking a little more confident now. Kyle scratched at his ear, as he sat down in front of his family, grinning at them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey stood up, “Did you pay all of that money already?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kyle scowled. “Yes. I did.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Do you imagine that our parents will be overly pleased with this information? Or that Grandma will thank you for stealing her tortoise so that you might amend your errors in judgment? You already had a car, you didn’t need that stupid motorcycle, and now you’ve gone and made yourself a criminal just so you can zoom along in that dangerous little device,” Kelsey spoke in a measured voice. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, don’t get all fussy about it. Enger and Kayla can afford it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“True, but utterly beside the point,” said Kayla. “<span lang="DE">We</span>’re taking you straight to Grandma’s, and then Kelsey can phone our parents, and bring them down.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I won’<span lang="IT">t come.</span>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes you will,” Kayla said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="NL">Indeed,</span>” Kelsey agreed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kyle looked deflated and defeated, and in a very short time they had him bundled into the car, and they got in themselves. Dana followed them, riding on Kyle’s motorcycle. She was a far more skilled driver of it then he ever was, but Kyle had his head buried in his hands, and therefore didn’t notice this mortifying fact. They got back to Grandma’s place fairly soon, and were starting to drive up her long lane, when they noticed something. The car and motorcycle came to abrupt halts, and everyone got out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Justin!” Kelsey, Kayla, and Kyle all gasped. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Justin was kneeling several feet away from the wreck and ruin of Kayla’s 1968 car. He appeared to be silently groaning.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Justin, is Horace alright?” Kelsey asked, running over, “What happened? Again?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Horace is fine,” said Justin tonelessly, “I dropped him off, and was about to drive back to Kayla and Enger’s place, but there’s that curve in your driveway, and I thought Minnie was going to run across the driveway, but I swerved too far, and my foot went down too heavily, and I ran into an oak tree.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kayla walked over, “That’s a mess,” she said heavily. “You didn’t mean to do it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’ll pay you back,” averred Justin, “As much as you think it’s worth, but I’m going to have to get a job in France. Marie will take me in out of the kindness of her heart, and I think I can survive from there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kayla looked at her car and sniffed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Just then, another vehicle spun into the driveway, and stopped just behind Kelsey’s car and the motorcycle. Mr. and Mrs. Kirkwood, in addition to Mr. and Mrs. Bronson, got out of it. Justin shrank behind Kelsey, who felt like shrinking behind someone also, imaging the scene of chaos that was about to erupt. Grandma also came out, attracted by the sight of ten people gathered around the wreckage of a 1968 car in her daffodil bed. Thankfully, the daffodils had all died away long before October. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Justin!” said Mrs. Bronson, “<span lang="DE">We</span>’d gotten worried. You didn’t tell us why you’d left, why, where’s Dad’s car?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Totaled,” Justin said hollowly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Mom, Kayla’s married.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<span lang="IT">Nonsense.</span>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“This is Kyle’s fiancee.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Totaled?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Completely.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Dana…Dana Worthington.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Enger Fye. Yes, five weeks married.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I texted you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We didn’t get it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Totaled?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Sorry.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“And you’ve broken Mrs. Fairbairn’s car too, I see, Justin.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No, that’s mine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Things were silenced for a bit, but then Kayla, who had been looking at her car all this time, gave a convulsive sob, her shoulders shaking in dismay, as her eyes filled with tears, the loss of her vehicle having finally set in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I didn’t insure it, even,” she whimpered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“My 1973 pride and joy,” whispered Mr. Bronson.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Mrs. Bronson silently patted his hand. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Is something wrong, Kayla?” dreamily asked Enger.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kayla choked back her tears, looking extremely surprised. “You know my name? I didn’t know you knew my name.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’ll get you a new…car, did you say?” Enger assured kindly. “This is a nice place. When do we go home?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What’s Kyle doing here? He’s supposed to be at college,” Mrs. Kirkwood asked sternly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey resigned herself heavily, and proceeded to launch in a long and detailed explanation that left little room for questions. The facts were arranged in order, and given with clear preciseness. Somehow, nobody doubted her, but Mrs. and Mr. Kirkwood were slightly shocked at the fact that Kayla had been married over a month, and also at the idea of Kyle both being engaged for a year and also being in debt to a motorcycle company. The three things had just never crossed their minds.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>You’re </i>not secretly married, are you, Kelsey?” asked Mrs. Kirkwood piteously.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Not at all,” Kelsey assured. “Grandma, do you suppose we could all have some tea? I think that would be the appropriate thing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span lang="IT">Grandma nodded</span>. “I’ll just bustle in and make it. We’d better have some maintenance people attend to this heap of rubbish before it explodes. I understand crashed cars do that frequently.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“In movies, I think,” said Kayla hopefully. “Not here, I trust. But…yes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’ll call the people,” said Mr. Kirkwood. “Everyone else go along inside.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
They did so, and Kelsey rapturously found Horace sauntering around the kitchen. She started patting him on the head, which attention he tolerantly accepted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, Horace, I was so afraid for you,” Kelsey said, beaming, and trying very hard to concentrate on what was going on in his mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Such. Joyful. Voices. Wonder. What’s. Wrong. Very. Upsetting. To. My. Digestion. I. Want. My. Room.</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey started leading him towards his bedroom and outdoor area. He splashed into the water, looking as pleased as it was possible for a hundred and twenty-year-old tortoise to look.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey walked back, and found Justin miserable, Mr. Bronson miserable, Kayla hovering between miserable over her car and rapturous over the fact that Enger knew her name, Dana sobbing because Kyle was in trouble, Kyle sobbing because he was in trouble, Mrs. Bronson apparently amused, Mr. and Mrs. Kirkwood stunned, and Grandma calmly pouring tea and producing gingersnaps from the pantry, which refreshment only seemed to be truly enjoyed by herself and Enger, who almost seemed aware of the fact that he was drinking the tea. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Body" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kelsey smiled, thinking of Horace being in safety again. The fuss over the cars seemed so superficial compared to <i>that</i>, but…it was a real grief to Kayla, Mr. Bronson, and the guilty wrecker Justin. Anxious to do something to help with their sorrows, Kelsey proceeded to make more tea, and then set about compiling supper. <o:p></o:p></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-13444142599049606172020-06-12T09:48:00.000-04:002020-06-12T09:48:13.165-04:00Family Heirloom Challenge: "We're Sorry. You have Reached a Number..." -- By Eve Nightingale<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gccmvloKzCA/XuHiuDTqcBI/AAAAAAAADTw/1mVdxZMuvo8yE92uN7Wv0krOVyK7Dhn2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gccmvloKzCA/XuHiuDTqcBI/AAAAAAAADTw/1mVdxZMuvo8yE92uN7Wv0krOVyK7Dhn2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/phone.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 22pt;">“We’re Sorry. You Have Reached a Number That Is No Longer In Service.”</span><span style="font-size: 22pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
by Eve Nightingale<o:p></o:p><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
There was a house in a small city. In this house there lived a family of two. In this family, the father and daughter lived alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
As you entered the house, there was a long hallway before stairs to the second floor. Once you walked up these stairs and continued forward, look up. There was a string that, once you pulled, lowered a ladder to the attic. You walked up these steps and looked around the organized mess of the attic. Boxes on boxes, filled with items long forgotten. Dust covering items that have not been moved in years.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Among these items, towards the back, stood an old rotatory phone, passed from generation to generation. The creator left an inscription on the bottom of the phone:<span style="font-family: "urw chancery l";"> <i>D.D</i></span><i>.</i>, the initials of the creator who made this phone shortly before his death. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
You are not the only one whose attention has been caught by this phone. The daughter in this house noticed it as well. Darcy Dougherty saw it one warm afternoon; the person who this story concerns. Darcy saw the old phone and made a phone call that ruined her life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The phone appeared to have cost much back when it was made. A red, round, slim base with a golden trim. The dial was gold whereas the numbering was black against a white background. This phone had a golden ear piece and golden, curved speaking piece. The handle was a deep black and it laid upon the golden rest. It was a beautiful phone, untouched by time and her cruel decay. The golden trim extended to a small platform on the back of the phone. It was a stand for a figure: a woman of ivory wearing golden curls and a red dress. She stood with one knee bent and hands extended towards the phone as if to say “Make a call today!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy screwed up her face in annoyance. <i>Even phones make blonds look like ditzes, </i>Darcy thought, painfully aware her own hair was blond. Her green eyes looked at the phone before she sighed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The phone’s surface sparkled in the waning sunlight. “Hmph,” Darcy said, unimpressed by the phone. She picked up the handle and looked at the dial. Darcy had to think a minute about what her father had said about how these phones worked before bringing the circle of the “1” all the way around to the small bar. She let it go and watched it spin back slowly. Darcy continued this with the three and then the zero, the nine, the six, and so on till she had dialed her mother’s phone number. <i>Wonder who has this number now,</i> Darcy thought as she put the phone to her ear. She resisted a giggle. <i>It’s not even hooked up!</i> “Anyone there?” she asked, finding it fun to talk to the open air.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy jumped and dropped the phone. She stumbled backwards and landed on her backside. She blinked, breathing heavily, as she stared at the receiver which now gently bumped against the boxes it stood on. The curled cord tried vainly to pull the receiver back up as the person on the other end waited. “Hello?” the person asked. “Did the line drop, Didi?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy slowly moved forward, crawling on her hands and knees and picked up the receiver. With shaking hands, she lifted it to her face. “M-m-mom?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s me, Didi. Was there something you needed?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No-o-o. I just—I found this old phone––”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Dear, you know I have bridge at this time,” her mother sighed. “Call in an hour if you want to talk. And tell your father I’ll be having supper at Karen’s house.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“But Mom–”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The voice of an overly sweet woman interrupted Darcy, making her tense with the thought this ‘operator’ was most likely long dead. “We’re sorry. You have reached a number that is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy stared at the base of the phone before she automatically hung up the phone and stared at it. “But Mom,” she repeated, “you died.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy sat in the attic, staring at the phone, as the sun slowly set. She was not sure what to make of it. That had been her mother’s voice, there was no way to deny that, but her mother had been dead for a year. Darcy was certain someone else had to have that phone number now. Then there was also the problem that the phone was not hooked up to the landline. When Darcy examined the phone, there wasn’t even a place to plug in a wire! The phone seemed to have been made for show.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy was startled out of her thoughts when she heard her father call for her. “Darcy? Darcy? Where are you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy slowly pulled herself away from staring at the phone before opening the hatch to the attic. Rather than climb all the way down, she stuck her head out and her father jumped with surprise. “It’s time for supper. What are you doing in the attic?” he asked his daughter who looked rather pale.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy slowly shook her head. “Nothing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Her father raised an eyebrow but only nodded. “Well, come down before the food gets cold,” he said as he turned and headed down the stairs to the dining room.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy nodded and looked over her shoulder one more time at the phone before heading to supper. <i>I’ll call again after supper. There’s enough time before bed. . . as if I have anything to get up for tomorrow.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy slowly walked down and lifted the ladder back up. She put her hands into her pockets and walked what seemed like a long trip to the dining room. Darcy moved the chair back by the leg with her foot before sitting down and scooting closer to the table. Her father soon entered and placed a plate of roasted chicken breast and mashed potatoes in front of her and his seat. He left once more before returning and placing the bowl of microwaved broccoli in front of her. “There you go,” he breathed as he took a seat.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He looked over at Darcy who started to quietly eat. “So. . . How was your day? Haven’t seen you since breakfast.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“A perk of having a big house,” she muttered as she ate.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What was that?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Nothing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Darcy, I’m trying to have a conversation,” he said tiredly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And I’m not. That’s probably why you’re failing,” Darcy replied back evenly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Her father looked at her for a long moment, slowly smiling before Darcy started to snicker. The snicker soon turned into laughter and her father laughed as well. The food laid forgotten till the family quieted down and started to eat once more. They did not speak when they ate, for neither had anything to say since the day was (almost) uneventful as the day before, but there was no longer the heavy atmosphere. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy finished first and sat back, her mind wandering to the phone upstairs. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Do you want to play a game?” her father asked and Darcy slowly shook her head before shaking it firmly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No, I was in the middle of something when you called,” Darcy said as she stood and brought her plate into the kitchen to rinse it off.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“In the attic?” her father questioned as he followed her and Darcy nodded.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah. If you don’t mind,” Darcy said and her father shook his head. “Not at all. Have fun.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy smiled and walked back to the attic.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy sat in front of the phone and took a deep breath. <i>Let’s just see how this goes. </i>She picked the receiver up and dialed her mother’s phone number once more. Darcy waited as the tones of the phone ringing sounded in her ear and soon the other end was picked up. “Darcy, I was wondering if you would call back. Didn’t you get my texts?” her mother answered.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Tears came to Darcy’s eyes and she shook her head. “N-no. I didn’t get them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hmm. Well, what is it you wanted?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I just wanted to, uh, talk to you for a bit. Tell you what’s been going on. Like I would when you went off on your retreats.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, everyone’s decided to go to the town for drinks but someone needed to make sure Karen wasn’t robbed. I’ve got time.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy smiled and soon launched into the tale of how things have been so weird lately. She started her story a year ago, what happened soon after her mother died, and was about to talk about the quarantine when her mother had to interrupt her: “Sorry dear, but Karen and the others have arrived. Tell me the rest tomorrow, okay?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy’s heart skipped a beat. <i>What if the phone doesn’t work then?</i> “O-okay. Promise you’ll answer?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Her mother laughed softly. “Of course dear. Good night.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Her mother hung up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“We’re sorry. You have reached a number that is no longer in–”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy slowly hung up the phone and stared at it. She rubbed the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Who else can I call?” Darcy whispered as her shoulders dropped. <i>Heard a rumor that Bell’s number was one. . .</i> Darcy picked up the receiver and dialed one, putting the receiver to her head. <i>I wonder if someone even HAD the number one.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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“Ahoy-hoy, Bell speaking.” came an older man’s voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Holy <span style="background-color: black;">jjjjjj</span>!” Darcy exclaimed and she heard a ‘tsk’ on the other end.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Do not use such foul language! Now who has decided to call me?” Bell demanded. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy was silent for a moment before clearing her throat. “Darcy, sir. I just wanted to congratulate you on your great success sir.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bell humphed but Darcy could tell he nodded. “Thank you but I must return to my work. Good-bye.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcy blinked when she heard the click of the phone connection ending and was followed by a low hum. <i>What happened to the sweet operator? </i>She hung the phone back up and thought a moment. Darcy soon picked it up again and dialed another number. Some conversations were short while others spanned about an hour. Some were angry, some were happy, and some were sad. Darcy did not retire to bed, spending the entire night on the phone.<o:p></o:p></div>
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That morning, her father got up and started breakfast. “Darcy! Breakfast!” he called from the kitchen before putting the food on the plates. He called once more as he placed the plates on the table. He stood straight, looking through the doorway for a moment before heading out to the hall. “Darcy?” he called as he made his way to the stairs, walking up them. “Darcy, time to get up.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He opened the door to her bedroom but saw her bed was messy and without Darcy laying on it. He checked the bathrooms before he caught sight of the attic. He slowly walked to it, reaching up and taking the string, pulling the ladder down. He walked up the ladder to the attic and saw Darcy in front of him. She was slumped over, head on the box beside the old phone, arms on the boxes beside her head as well. The receiver of the phone dangled over the opposite side as if she slumped over and let the receiver drop.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The father took a sharp breath, eyes widening. For a moment, he saw his wife in front of him, slumped just like Darcy was. He blinked, seeing his daughter now, and he closed his eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>How could I forget?! I really thought it was a sickness—I should have gotten rid of that phone. . . But I did. Who. Brought. It. Back?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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The father sighed, head lowering for a moment before he climbed the rest of the way up. He slowly lifted the receiver, the operator’s voice sounded from the earpiece, saying: “The number you have reached has been disconnected and is no longer in service”, and placed it back on the rest before he carefully picked his daughter up and lowered her downstairs. It was lucky there was a virus circling around so he set his daughter up in her bedroom, pretending she had died from the sickness, before calling the local funeral home. This was almost exactly what he had done when his wife died. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It had been after the funeral and as he walked alone in the house, the phone rang. He paused, having been making his way to bed, and looked up. Ringing, the classic ring that was the bane of modern phones, came from the attic.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Why not go give it an answer?” a voice from the shadows asked and the father shook his head. “Why not, elder one? Your family has answered it for generations, comforting those who have passed on before us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No. . . no, tempting but no. I have no wish to join those who have departed,” he sighed with a sad smile. He looked over at the shadows where the shape of a man could be seen. “Besides, that phone’s a bit outdated. It can’t receive calls anymore.” With that final word, he went to bed as the man in the shadows simply smiled.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Time always aided the man in the shadows for time was like water. It never ceased flowing, nothing could ever stop its flow, and it eroded even the strongest of materials. Yes, the father was wise not to answer the phone but one day he will . . . . and when that day came, the man of shadows would take the phone to the next member of the family. A family heirloom, made by a man who could not live without his wife, passed from generation to generation by the man in shadows.<o:p></o:p></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-31584703841617944692020-04-03T03:01:00.000-04:002020-04-03T03:01:00.453-04:00Challenge Time! Family Heirloom Challenge <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k8zXioWCO9g/Xobd8DP1kWI/AAAAAAAADMk/Yr0o9xRrSzwL6r9-e6jib4L4LgJc7m1aACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/modernbardchallengebutton.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k8zXioWCO9g/Xobd8DP1kWI/AAAAAAAADMk/Yr0o9xRrSzwL6r9-e6jib4L4LgJc7m1aACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/modernbardchallengebutton.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's time for the first challenge of 2020! I think this one is going to be a lot of fun, as it's another one where you can literally do pretty much any thing that you want with it!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t7VTa-dC3Dw/XobeY2eWIaI/AAAAAAAADMs/Ny_-NBUWaMocYA-4HZ8PZd-eGGXYbv6GACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/familyheirloomchallenge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="142" data-original-width="250" height="227" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t7VTa-dC3Dw/XobeY2eWIaI/AAAAAAAADMs/Ny_-NBUWaMocYA-4HZ8PZd-eGGXYbv6GACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/familyheirloomchallenge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><u>Rules</u></b></div>
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For this challenge, the rules are to write a story based around a family heirloom. What you decide to do with that if up to you. Aside from the inclusion of a family heirloom of some kind, go wild!</div>
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<b><u>Deadline</u></b></div>
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Deadline for this one is <u>May 29th</u></div>
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Happy Writing!</div>
<br />Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-966501896443419462020-03-16T03:34:00.000-04:002020-03-16T03:34:33.656-04:00Mixed Media Challenge: "World Ender" -- by Hazel West<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">World Ender<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">By Hazel B. West<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">(Based on the song “The World Ender” by Lord Huron)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">The sun set over the desert.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Wyatt Conners, the newly-minted marshal leaned against his shovel as he stared at the three freshly dug graves in the ground. The light of the setting sun caused the three wooden crosses to cast ominous shadows across the turned dirt. He reached up and rubbed his face with a dirty hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “D— shame,” he muttered to his deputy. The words meant nothing, they couldn’t express what he felt about the death of his former partner and Morgan’s family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The other man nodded and took the shovel from Conners, giving his shoulder a brief pat in solidarity before heading off back to the wagon. There wasn’t even a house left, only smoldering wreckage. The smoke was still cloying and heavy in the air.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners took off his hat and glanced at the graves again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I’ll get him, Matt. That’s my vow to you.” It was all he could do, and it wasn’t enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He turned around and headed for his horse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Night fell on the three graves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">He woke to darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Matthew Morgan pulled air into his lungs, no more smoke there to choke him. His hand grasped at his chest, feeling the dry, tacky blood and the hole where the bullet had struck him, ending his life as memories flashed behind his eyelids…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Morgan and Conners watched as the man dropped through the gallows. Thomas Mayhew. They’d spent the better part of a month tracking down the Mayhew gang, and finally caught the younger of the two brothers. It was a good day seeing him on the gallows. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I don’t usually say this, but I’m not at all sorry to see him go,” Conners said quietly to the marshal. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan nodded in agreement.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “After the murders…what he did to those women…” Conners shook his head, trailing off as the two solemnly remembered the horrors they had seen during their investigation.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> As the hanged man’s struggling ceased to twitches, Morgan’s eyes shifted over to where Cyrus Mayhew was standing off to one side with the rest of his crew. It was only technicality that they weren’t all hanging for the crimes of the boss’s younger brother.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “You think he’ll make trouble,” Conners said. It was not a question.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan’s jaw was set. “Wouldn’t you if it was your brother with a necktie like that?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners shook his head. “I hope I never see the day I have a brother like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Mayhew’s eyes met Morgan’s across the square and there was darkness there, a promise. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Yes, Morgan was certain he would make trouble. It was only a matter of when and where.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Morgan’s eyes were blurry at first, but he blinked to clear them, trying to see his surroundings, make sense of them. Stars swirled unnaturally overhead, a dizzying vortex. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He slowly sat up, hands pressing into the ground, fingers digging into the sand underneath of him, finding some comfort in something solid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Where was he?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Morgan parted with Conners and rode back to his farm for the night. He put his horse away and entered the house through the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Madeline stood at the stove, not having heard him come in. Morgan smiled and crept up behind her, snagging her around the waist.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> She startled before she realized it was him and giggled. “Matt, don’t scare me like that!”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” he said and leaned over to kiss her jaw tenderly.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> She smiled but extricated herself from his arms gently. “Supper will burn if you keep that up. Go clean up, it’s almost ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Where’s Sarah?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “In the parlor. Can you tell her to get ready for supper?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Matthew left the kitchen and entered the parlor to see a beautiful blond girl sitting on the floor playing with her dolls. She looked up when he came in and shot to her feet.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Papa! You’re home!”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He caught her and swung her up into his arms. “That’s right, and it’s time for supper. Let’s both go get washed up, or your mama will be mad at us.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> She giggled and Morgan forgot for a moment about the hanging and the trouble that Cyrus Mayhew was planning.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Morgan continued to stare around the strange place, until he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He spun back around to see what it was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> A figure stood about ten yards off, back turned. It was a man, dressed in black, long coat billowing in a breeze that Morgan couldn’t feel, dark hair tossing, giving him a wild and eerie look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan scrambled to his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice trembling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Who am I?” the dark figure answered. His voice was low, gravely and monotone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> A chill went through Morgan, only heightened as the figure continued to speak, his back still turned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “My friends call me Wrath.” The voice carried easily through the night and though there was a steady wind, it made no sound, yet somehow its silence fit with this strange place out of time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “My enemies,” the figure continued. “They call me, ‘no, stop, please have mercy’.” The figure began to turn, head low. “But they all agree that I am Vengeance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He turned fully and lifted his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan staggered back with a cry caught in his throat. The figure’s eyes glowed with an unnatural light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> This was no man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">They came at dawn. Morgan had only just gotten up, leaving Madeline sleeping in bed with a soft kiss to her cheek before he dressed and went to the stables.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> His horse nickered, the only warning his got before the barrel of a gun pressed into his ribs.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Don’t move.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He thought about reaching for his own gun, but this close, there was no way he would get out without taking a bullet. So instead, he raised his hands.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Another man came up and grabbed his gun from its holster. They were both Mayhew’s, Morgan recognized them. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What is this? What do you wan—”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He was hit over the head and fell unconscious into a pile of hay.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">He came to to the smell of smoke on the wind. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan crawled to his feet and rushed out of the barn, staggering and catching himself on the doorframe as he caught sight of his house.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “No. NO!” he screamed.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He ran toward the blaze. “Madeline! Sarah!”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Someone intercepted him, and he recognized the figure as one of Cyrus’ men. He fought, but he was caught from behind by another and before he could fight them off again, the butt of a rifle planted itself in his stomach, folding him over.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> They dragged him to where Cyrus Mayhew was standing off to one side, watching the house burn. Morgan could only stare at him in helpless fury.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “We got him, sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Mayhew finally looked up at Morgan, holding a gun in his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Why are you doing this, Cyrus?” Morgan demanded. “They did nothing to you! Where is my family?!”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “You know why,” Mayhew said.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Revenge?” Morgan cried. “Your brother was a bad man and he died for his crimes. He was a loose cannon that would have given you trouble in the long run. You know that.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “He was still kin,” Mayhew said simply. “And you know how it works, Marshal. An eye for an eye.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The other men were adding more torches to the fire even though it was already blazing. Morgan saw the doors and windows boarded up. Anyone in that house would have no chance of escaping.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He fought the grip the men had on him.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Mayhew! Don’t do this! Not like this! You want satisfaction? I’ll give it to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Mayhew simply smiled. “No. It’s easier to do it like this. And really, as you can see, it’s too late for your precious wife and daughter.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Madeline! Sarah!” Morgan screamed before he was hit across the back of the head again.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Dazed, he was shoved to his knees by the lackeys and could only watch helplessly, struggling, as his house burned down before his eyes. The roof caved in with a huge crack and plume of flame. He could feel the heat from where he sat, desolate.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Cyrus reached down and yanked the marshal star off of Morgan’s vest, throwing it away in the dirt.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I’m the only law in this town, son. Too bad it took you this long to realize that.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan fought, but Cyrus pointed the gun at him coldly and squeezed the trigger.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> A shot rang out and Morgan was slammed back into the dirt. Everything was numb and stained red. He gasped, but only choked on blood that bubbled up from his lungs. Smoke filled the air and he could only watch through tear-filled eyes as his house burned to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Then it was only darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">“What is your name, boy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan tried to find his voice, his heart beating quickly in his chest…or, no…it wasn’t. It <i>should</i> have been, but there was nothing there after all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> And it was then he finally realized that he was dead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What is your name?” the dark figure asked again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan wet his lips. “Matthew Morgan,” he finally managed. “Are—what are you? Some sort of devil?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The man—thing—smiled as if amused but didn’t answer his question. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is why you are standing here right now instead of moving on. You have unfinished business, Matthew Morgan. And I mean to help you finish it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Cyrus Mayhew,” Morgan said, a growl in his voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The being inclined his head in acknowledgement. “What happened to you and your family was not right. He must be taken down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “How do I do it?” Morgan asked. “I mean…I’m—I’m dead, aren’t I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The man-shaped thing cocked his head to one side. “You are in between. That is what this place is. Between time and space. Life and death.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan glanced up at the swirling stars again and shivered. “Send me back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I can do that. I can send you back to get your revenge. But you have to understand that there will be conditions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What conditions?” Matthew demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “You will live, but it will not be a mortal life. If I send you back, you will be my earthly messenger. You will do work in my name—Vengeance.” His eyes glowed again as he said it. “You will never bleed. You will never age, and you will never again feel the embrace of the grave. Your purpose will be to see that everyone who was involved with killing your family pays their dues.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan straightened his shoulders. “And what happens then?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The being cocked his head. “When you finish your calling, I will come to you again and I will have a question to ask. It is up to you what you say then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan remembered Mayhew’s face as he watched his men set fire to his house. How the man had coldly put a bullet into Morgan’s chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I’ll do it,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The being nodded, as if having expected the answer all along. “Then go back, Matthew Morgan.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He reached out and grabbed Morgan’s wrist. His grip burned white hot, the same as the being’s eyes, and Morgan cried out as he felt an unnatural sensation tugging him forward…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> His fist punched through the dirt as if yanked upright by a terrific force and he shoved his way through the loose soil, gasping for breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He squeezed through the dirt and collapsed onto the ground, rolling over onto his back to look up at the sky, panting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Moonlight beamed down on him, and the stars were overhead, no longer swirling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He was back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He sat up, and looked at the grave he had crawled out of. There were two others beside it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He pulled himself to his feet and stood in front of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “He’ll pay for what he did,” he whispered to Madeleine and Sarah. “I’ll be sure of that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> His wrist stung in the cool night breeze and Morgan glanced down, yanking his sleeve up to see a burn mark in the shape of a handprint wrapped around his wrist. A shiver went down his spine, but one of anticipation, not fear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He touched his fingers to his lips and then pressed the tips to each of the crosses before he turned around and strode off through the desert.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">There was one light on in the house when Morgan rapped on the door. He heard the sound of feet striding across the floor before the door was opened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners’s figure was silhouetted in the dim light from further in the house, the outline of a gun in his hand at his side, but even in the shadows, Morgan could see his face was white as a sheet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Holy—” Conners choked out then stopped as if realizing there was nothing at all holy about the man standing in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Hello, Wyatt,” Morgan said, stepping forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners’s gun went up, hand shaking in a way Morgan had never seen before from his stoic partner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Y-you’re dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Not anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I buried you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Yeah, and I came back,” Morgan said, reaching out and gripping the other man’s wrist, pushing the gun down. “And I need your help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Conners was still pale as they sat at the table, cups of coffee in front of them. Morgan didn’t drink his, but he wrapped his hands around it, using the warmth to remind himself that he could feel something.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners ran a hand over his face as Morgan finished explaining what had happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I don’t even know what to say. You know how crazy that sounds right? And yet, you were dead. I buried you myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan nodded and rolled up his sleeve, showing the strange handprint burn there. “It was real, far as I can tell. Trust me, I’m just as much in shock as you are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners took a deep breath. “So it’s all on you then? Taking out Cyrus?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Not yet,” Morgan said darkly. He’d thought about it on the way here and had decided exactly how he was going to go about this. “I want him scared. I want him to know what’s coming. I’m gonna take out his men one by one until he’s the only one left. Then I’ll come for him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners shuddered as if he saw something in Morgan’s face that scared him. And he probably did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Then when do we start?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Right now,” Morgan said and stood up from the table. “I’m gonna need some guns and ammo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners nodded and went to his own gun cabinet. He returned with the weapons and bullets, then reached up for the star on his vest, unpinning it. “Here, this is yours…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Keep it,” Morgan said. “I don’t operate by that law anymore. I’ve been sworn in by another.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners swallowed hard and repined the star. “Matt. I’m sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan’s jaw clenched, but he nodded, and picked up a Colt Lightning from the table, shucking a bullet into the action with a swift, one-handed, practiced jerk. “Someone’s gonna be sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Then he walked out the door, leaving his partner behind with an unreadable expression on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">The saloon wasn’t very full this time of night but there were still a few men in there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Among them, several of Mayhew’s men.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan and Conners stood outside, watching through the window as the sound of rowdy speech echoed out into the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What’s the plan, Matt?” Conners asked, taking his pistol from his belt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan simply walked forward the kicked the door in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> As the door crashed off its hinges, the saloon became silent, and everyone looked up to see Morgan standing there, Conners appearing behind him a second later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It took only a second for the occupants to recognize him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “M-Marshall Morgan,” the bartender breathed. “I—I thought you were dead…Mr. Conners said…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The men from Mayhew’s gang were already getting up, reaching for weapons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Matt—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners’s warning came a second after Morgan started moving. He spun, bringing the Colt up and firing off a shot, hitting one of the men directly in the chest, sending him falling backwards over a table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Two more came up, launching themselves at him, and Morgan turned to slam the butt of the gun into one of their heads, while the other came at him with a knife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The knife struck Morgan between the ribs and stuck there as he staggered backward from the blow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Everyone in the saloon stopped what they were doing. Mayhew’s man stared at the knife, for a long second, then his eyes slowly turned upward to Morgan’s face, confused at the fact that he hadn’t fallen over yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan felt the blow, but the pain was minimal. He simply smiled and reached down to yank the blade from his body. No blood spilled out. He didn’t have a beating heart. How could he bleed?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Mayhew’s man turned white as a ghost. He took a staggering step back, his knees buckling in fear, as Morgan thrust the knife into the man’s chest. He choked, and collapsed, twitching slightly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan then turned to the man he had knocked down and dragged the terrified human to his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “W-what are you?” he trembled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I am Vengeance,” Morgan said and, though he didn’t know it at the time, his face turned to a grotesque visage of a skull, eyes deep and dark and empty. “Tell Cyrus Mayhew I’m coming for him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The man fainted dead away, and Morgan dropped him to the ground with a thud. He turned to the bartender, tipped his hat. “Sorry for the mess.” Then he walked out of the saloon into the night, leaving behind the stunned patrons and his rattled partner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">The next night, Matthew Morgan once again took his gun and went hunting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He found more of Cyrus’s men in town. He shot all but one, leaving him to send the warning to Mayhew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Conners didn’t come with him that night, and Morgan didn’t ask him to. This was his mission. This was his vendetta.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> And he was getting closer every day to his final target.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Cyrus Mayhew was terrified. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He would never show it, but he was. Over the last few days, he had woken up to news of more and more of his men dead, but always one left to tell some horrifying tale that Marshall Morgan had climbed out of his grave and was out for vengeance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> A rational part of Cyrus told him not to believe that, but another part, the part that told him something was not at all natural about this, reminded him that he shouldn’t be so quick to judge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He was waiting for his right-hand man, Smollett, to come back from the bank. He was leaving town—it seemed like the smartest thing to do considering the circumstances—but it was already dark, and Smollett had yet to return.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> That was when he heard a hue and cry from the town. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Cyrus raced out to see what was going on, and saw the townsfolk gathered around a skittish horse that they were trying to stop. He pushed forward just as someone caught hold of the beast, and hauled a body off of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It fell at Cyrus’s feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It was Smollett.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> His eyes were open and staring in some unseen terror and a knife was stabbed through his chest, pinning a note to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> <i>You can’t run from me, Cyrus. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Cyrus Mayhew felt a chill go down his spine as if someone had walked on his grave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Look!” someone shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Everyone turned to look at the hills outside the town, where a fire had burst into life. A fire in the shape of the letter M.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Cyrus didn’t know if it was for Morgan or Mayhew, but it didn’t really matter. The meaning was still the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> His knees felt weak as he raced back to his house to pack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Cyrus Mayhew came in the door to see the dark figure standing in the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He cried out, as Morgan appeared from the shadows, eyes flat and dark, a knife held casually in his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Please…no…” Cyrus said, cowering backward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “You didn’t give my family that mercy,” Morgan said in a dark tone. “Why should I give it to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Cyrus was shaking, but he still managed to snatch the revolver from his holster and empty all six bullets into Morgan’s chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The man—or whatever he was now—barely took a step back. In fact, he took a step forward. Toward Cyrus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The man fell backwards, throwing his gun in desperation as terror washed over him like a cold rain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan grabbed his outstretched arm and snapped his wrist in one swift, inhuman move. Cyrus screamed as he was wrenched around and slammed against the wall. Morgan’s other hand was around his throat, raising him up until his feet no longer touched the ground. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Cyrus choked, grasping at the clenched fist with his good hand, vision darkening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> And that was when Morgan released him, letting him drop to his feet and slamming him back against the wall with a hand to his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Please,” Cyrus gasped. “Just let me go. I’ll…I’ll give you anything.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “You already took the only thing I ever wanted,” Morgan snarled and his face contorted into the image of a skull. Cyrus screamed and then cried out again in shock as Morgan slammed the knife he had been carrying into the palm of Cyrus’s good hand, pinning him to the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I’ve come to make you pay for what you took,” Morgan said, and reached into his pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Cyrus watched in eye-widening terror as Morgan lit a match and threw it onto a pile of kindling he had left in the darkness of Cyrus’s house. It lit with a <i>whoomp</i> and Morgan watched it for several seconds before he turned back to Cyrus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “You had better hope I don’t see you again the other side of hell,” he said then strode out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The last thing Cyrus heard was the sound of nails being driven into the doorjamb and then the pounding of horse hooves leaving the property.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> After that it was just flames.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Matthew Morgan stood beside the graves in his backyard. Two still occupied, one not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He thought of crawling back into it. Perhaps that was what he was supposed to do, now that his vengeance had been realized. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> An unnatural silence stole across the night and Morgan felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. He turned and saw the dark figure who had sent him back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I finished,” Morgan said. “He’s dead. They’re all dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I know,” the being said, looking up with his eerie eyes, seeming to be cast in more shadow than was normal, the tails of his coat playing around his ankles in a nonexistent breeze. “I came to offer you a deal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I thought you already offered me one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “An opportunity then,” the dark man said, cocking his head. “To continue your work. Vengeance does not reach everyone it should. It has been a long time since I’ve had a messenger to do my work for me. This world is full of pain and suffering and people who cannot help themselves.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “And I can help them?” Morgan asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> A small smile quirked the being’s lips. “Yes. Is that what you would like to do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Morgan thought, staring back at his empty grave. He could take peace in death, or he could help others in the same position he had been in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He turned to the dark figure beside him and gave one small nod. “I will do it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The figure inclined his head. “Then go, Bringer of Vengeance, Ender of Worlds. Do my work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> And Morgan tipped his hat, and climbed into his saddle and as the sun rose, he rode off into the desert, the Bringer of Vengeance and Ender of Worlds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-16389337065203104912020-03-13T03:45:00.000-04:002020-03-13T03:45:53.395-04:00Mixed Media Challenge: "Call to Adventure: Destiny's a Funny Thing" -- by Marlene Simonette<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>This story is based off of this game</b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif; font-size: 15pt;">Call to Adventure: Destiny's a Funny Thing<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif; font-size: 15pt;">Act 1: A Bright Start<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;">Scene 1: A new home<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;">Sweat stinging her eyes, her nose burning with the scents mingling in the market, Ellen helped her mother heave the last of the crates into the wagon. Her mother was acting odd; glancing at her, then glancing away and smiling at the ground. Half-laughing, she wiped her hands on her dress. “Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” It must have been somewhere important; her father had taken a horse they’d recently acquired and ridden ahead to reserve a booth or stand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Oh, you won’t get me ta’ run over.” Her mother took the kerchief from around her neck and swiped at her forehead. “I’m not breathing a word.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen helped close the wagon up. After shooing away several urchins who tried to either pickpocket her or steal from the wagon, she made her way to the front. She didn’t say anything until they had both taken a seat and her mother had whipped the oxen into movement. Working her hands in her skirt, she scooted closer. “Are we going to Woodlyn? Wildrose Creek?” Her mother’s only answer was another side-glance and a smile. Ellen tilted her head back. “Oh, why won’t you show me the map?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “You’ll see when we get there!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;">———<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;">The journey took several days. Each day heightened Ellen’s suspense, for each day landmarks that she’d only ever heard of dotted the road: the Goldblossom Rocks, the Forest of Flames (the leaves weren’t actual flame as she’d imagined, but instead jagged-edged, rose-red leaves). The landmark that made her feel like her heart had stopped was seen on the last day of travel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;">Her mother had forced Ellen into the covered wagon for the last section of the journey. Sitting among the crates and barrels, Ellen fumed. Excitedly, of course, for she had an idea of where they were. When her mother called her out, she scrambled to the cloth flap and poked her head out. The path went to the right and to the left. Ahead was a rim of jagged stone. All vegetation and soil had been burned away for twenty feet, up to the edge of a cliff. “Witch’s Walk,” she breathed. She turned her head around, wishing she were an owl and could see everything at once. Far to the right, where the road ended abruptly at the scarred ground, a gate and two sentinels stood. The sentinels wore bright blue cloaks fastened with glimmering green pins at their throats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Her mother’s laugh jolted her out of her amazement. “Remember to breathe, child.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “We’re not...how did...Benetoit City?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “No. Better.” Her mother turned the wagon down the left path. “Berylwood Ridge.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen felt a brief moment of disappointment, quickly replaced by feverish excitement. While Berylwood Ridge was smaller and held less legend in it, it was rumored to be the prettiest place north of the Whistling River, with a towering mountain rich in minerals and gemstones. It wasn’t the capitol, but it was close. “How did we ever manage to afford that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> For a moment, her mother’s smile dimmed. “We made a few trades. Now heft yourself back up, enjoy the view.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen twisted this way and that in the seat, looking less at the town that was soon visible below and more at the mountain face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Her mother nudged her. “What are you looking for?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “The stories say that the mountain is so rich that veins of gems are visible on the surface.” She frowned. “So far, I haven’t seen any.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “That must be the ‘tall’ of the tale you were told.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Like you didn’t believe it!” After sharing a laugh, Ellen leaned forward. “May I run ahead? I want to see the town.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “We’ll be in sight in less than an hour. Besides, I think ye’ll have a hard time finding our place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Is the market arranged differently than we’re used to?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Noooo,” her mother said, pursing her lips. “We just bought differently. Ah!” She clicked at the oxen and lashed at the reins. “You’ll not get another word from me. Be patient. Here, something to occupy your mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen took her turn at the reins. It seemed like her family was finally getting their dream; a place to settle down, and grow their business. “I can’t wait.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “We’ve waited this long; an hour more will do us no harm.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;">Ellen grinned and toyed with the reins. “Neither will getting there early.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Don't you dare.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Yes mum,” she sighed.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;">About an hour later, they could see the town below them.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen pulled the oxen to a stop and leaned over. “I could walk on the rooftops from here!”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Looking from the coruscating verandas and shingled rooftops nearest her to those further out, it seemed someone else had the same idea.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> With his free hand—he had a coat of some sort slung on the other arm—he waved jauntily at them.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen could practically hear her mother's thought: <i>Dear Ve, someone else as crazy as my daughter!</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> A bell rang out over the town. Ellen could just see the flash in the steeple—presumably the Ronin School, named for one of the most prosperous miners who first came to the valley—situated in the center. The boy on the rooftops gave one last wave, then headed towards the school.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen listened to the bell for a moment longer, and imagined being down on those cobbled streets, heading to class. They taught politics, history, arcana...</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “I thought you wanted to get to the city sooner than later,” her mother teasingly said.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Sorry.” Ellen got the oxen moving again. She didn't feel as excited as she had earlier.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> The creak of the wheels and the dull murmur of the town were the only sounds for a while. Clearing her throat, her mother said, “We'll have to get you a scholar's shawl, if you want to fit in with that crowd.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Shaking her head, Ellen tapped her heel against the boards. “I'll be busy helping you and da.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “Ah, the one time I try to give you a hint, and you don't hear it.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Ellen twisted in the seat. “You were able to get me into the school?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “No, you'll have to do that on your own. We have no doubt you will, and arranged the shop so we can manage it alone.” Her mother smiled.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> Holding back a whoop so as not to startle the oxen, Ellen faced forward again. “Can this month get any better?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida bright" , serif;"> “That's up to you!”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<b><br /></b>Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-32963348085590963072020-03-11T01:11:00.001-04:002020-03-11T01:11:11.923-04:00Mixed Media Challenge: "The Gift of Fire" -- by Anne Leskey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jW0vY_y0EUA/Xli6WGzFdfI/AAAAAAAADKQ/fLlCwMy7hXAATwipFvQzcpGbVsT4a3NtQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_20191123_145529_hdr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="912" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jW0vY_y0EUA/Xli6WGzFdfI/AAAAAAAADKQ/fLlCwMy7hXAATwipFvQzcpGbVsT4a3NtQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_20191123_145529_hdr.jpg" width="182" /></a><b>This story is based off this photo by Anne Leskey</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">The Gift of Fire</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Up in the trees, Kennocha shifted her massive weight uneasily, her glowing amber eyes expressing anxiety. The girl was getting so close, and Kennocha didn’t really want to hurt her. The girl suddenly stopped short, seeing the egg, and Kennocha was left with no alternative as a massive welling of instinct engulfed her. She pulled herself up to rain fire upon the intruder’s head, but she stopped suddenly, as she noted the expression on the girl’s face. It was one of child-like wonder and interest.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha hesitated, breathing hot vapor into the crisp morning air as she waited. But nothing happened, the blond-haired girl simply curled her legs up underneath her and sat down, observing the bronze colored egg with a wistfully interested gaze. Kennocha’s eyes sharpened as she focused further onto the human. Certainly, the girl, no more then eighteen, with her innocent face and undernourished appearance didn’t appear to be a threat. Kennocha decided to wait…and watch. <o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny felt tingles of excitement course through her, as she gazed at the huge egg that lay before her in a hollowed nest of ferns. She scarcely felt the cold of the late November wind that was whipping through her blouse and vest. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny knew that there weren’t ostriches in her region, and even had there been, the foot long, slightly iridescent oval before her could never have belonged to that bird species. There was only one animal that she could ever fathom having an egg that size, and that was an animal who was either supposed to have gone extinct or never to have existed: Dragons. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Sure, there were dinosaurs that could probably lay eggs that size, but Destiny didn’t believe that a dinosaur could have remained hidden, whereas a dragon…surely if they existed then they would be magical in some way. She didn’t doubt in the least that the egg’s mother could hide herself in some way or the other. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny had been sitting there for a long time, watching the egg, and making no noise, her mind only going at a record speed. But all during the time her ears had caught every sound that was made in the woods, and when, in the distance, a harsh, disturbing bell clanged, she leaped noiselessly to her feet, and started through the woods, turning though, and whispering to the egg,<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’ll be back.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha breathed a slight sigh of relief. The girl was gone, but Kennocha’s ears had picked up the whispered words, and she feared what she might mean by it. But the girl didn’t seem to mean any harm, and maybe she didn’t. Besides, if she did, Kennocha didn’t fear for the little life that was sheltered in the egg. At the first sign of danger, fire would always rise to Kennocha’s mouth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The dragon sailed down gracefully, landing next to the nest of ferns, and making sure that the egg was warm. When Kennocha’s warmth hit the egg, it turned vividly golden. Cuinn was happy, then. <o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Late <i>again</i>, Destiny?” snapped Carla Reed, “How dare you! And coming home with leaves on your skirt, as usually. You’ll rip your tights, and do you expect us to constantly be providing you with new ones, you untidy girl!” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Carla gave her a vigorous shake, and marched her into the bathroom to clean her hands before dinner…<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Which is probably <i>cold</i>. Where on earth were you, child?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny sighed, “The woods.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The woods! The woods! You will poison yourself out there one day, and serve you right! Don’t you know that you’re supposed to come in at the bell?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The thought flickered across Destiny’s mind that it was a bit much to expect someone to know exactly when the bell would ring, when they had no timepiece, but she didn’t even think of saying it out loud, instead nodding.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes, I know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Then next time do it,” Carla shook her again, “Go eat! Go! And I don’t want to see you leaving the building again tonight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Mustn’t I?” Destiny asked, disturbed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No! It’s pitch out there already. I can’t prevent you tomorrow, but you will catch your death of cold, or mushrooms, or something. And don’t wake up any bears, because I won’t be responsible if they kill you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I shouldn’t have thought that you would be…” said Destiny, confusedly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Carla whisked her into the dining room, and Destiny sat down at her place. The food had not gone cold, as it had been served out only ten minutes before in a piping hot state. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha stiffened, flying back up into the trees. She had heard the same sound as on the day before, and sure enough, in a few minutes the wistful looking human girl slipped into the shelter of the trees, and sat down a little closer to the egg than on the day before. She looked cold, but appeared contented. Kennocha focused on the girl’s face. She had a tanned complexion, and just now her cheeks were rather red from the cold. Her face was small, but her eyes were large. One was a soft olive green, the other a vivid sapphire blue. Both, however, held the same look of quiet gentleness. Her medium hued golden hair was only slightly past her chin, and very fluffy and thick.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She was talking to Cuinn.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t you have a mother, little one? It seems strange that you are in such an unprotected nest; are you warm enough?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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The girl gathered up some moss, and gently tucked it around the egg. Kennocha had been alarmed when the girl first moved her hands so close to Cuinn, but the dragon mother quickly relaxed as it was made evident that the girl was trying to help the dragon baby, not harm it. And of course, she couldn’t be expected to know that dragon eggs stored enough warmth that they could go four or five hours before they needed to be fired again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“There, that looks a little warmer. Oh, I suppose you’re alright. Maybe Mama is out hunting, is she? Other animals would probably have attacked if she wasn’t around,” the girl continued, “I wonder when you’ll hatch. Winter seems such an inhospitable time for a baby. But maybe you’ll wait until spring, I somehow doubt it though. Did you just change color?!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha had to be amused at the surprised look that came onto the girl’s face as the iridescent bronze egg changed to a fitful amber. Cuinn was pleased. Not overwhelmingly happy as he was when golden, but certainly pleased. Kennocha relaxed further, and realized that she almost completely trusted this small human with her gentle, melodic voice and quiet, smooth movements. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny stretched slightly, and breathed in a deep breath of air. Her eyebrows contracted as she smelled the smoke in the air. It was faint, but noticeable. It made sense of course, if the egg’s mother was a dragon, then naturally there should be smoke. <o:p></o:p></div>
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However, it made it a little alarming, for although Destiny wasn’t particularly afraid of the dragon, it was a strange thought to realize that there could be a mammoth, fire-breathing creature somewhere above her head. Instinctively, Destiny tossed her head up to get a better look at the sky. It was a clear and cloudless morning. The only flying thing was a crow, which didn’t seem daunted by the thirty five degree day. There was movement in the branches, but there was a breeze, and she saw no dragon. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The bell bonged from the orphanage, and Destiny rose in one quick movement. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’ll be back!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Over the next two weeks Destiny spent all the time that she could in the forest. Nobody bothered following her. She was just being Destiny. Most of the other girls described her to visitors as a ‘weird loner’. Carla, ignoring the frigid winter weather, informed her that she’d get bitten by ticks, but didn’t stop her from going into the woods. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny, however, started calling the dragon egg ‘Tick’ because of Carla’s warning. And Kennocha came to fully trust in the golden haired human who invariably came slipping through the trees, and sat down next to her egg and sang Christmas carols to the baby dragon inside. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Two weeks to the day since Destiny had discovered the egg, she was startled by a slight crackling noise, and turned around automatically. Behind her was a full grown dragon. Destiny did not scream, but her eyes flared into enormous round orbs, taking in the sight of the red-brown scales and black markings of the great beast before her.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Tha mi a ’cur fàilte ort coigreach! D ’ainm a bhiodh fios agam,” said Kennocha graciously.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny’s eyes reverted to normal size, but gained an expression of extreme confusion, “I…what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hi. What’s your name?” Kennocha sighed as she switched to the girl’s tongue and expressions.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh, I’m Destiny…Destiny DuBois. What’s your’s, please?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Kennocha.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny smiled, “You must be Tick’s mum?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Tick? His name is Cuinn, Destiny.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh, right,” Destiny flushed, “But you must be his mum?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes,” said Kennocha, appeased. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Nocha, you’ll need to move,” said Destiny as soon as she entered the clearing a week later, “I just heard from Carla that there’s going to be some hunters in here, by special permission.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha unfurled her wings angrily, “How dare they?” she spat furiously. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Please don’t just burn them up, Kennocha,” winced Destiny.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha batted her wings a few more times, but settled down on the ground next to Destiny and Cuinn, who was a fitful blue at the moment, evidently not very happy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hunters! Hunters! What does this mean?” snarled Kennocha.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny wasn’t afraid, “They have guns…things that kill. They’ll be really interested in Cuinn. He needs to move.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“How?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s two days until the hunters are coming, Nocha. I’ll come up with something.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny lugged her oldish cranberry red bicycle through the woods. She stood it up on the frozen ground, and looked around for Kennocha, who landed, and knocked the bike over. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“This is our answer,” said Destiny.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Kennocha, where do you need to move Cuinn to?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Back to the mountains, where the rest of us are,” said Kennocha seriously. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, what mountains? You never did tell me why you’re out here by yourself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“We were traveling, and a storm came up, and my wing was injured, and I got separated, and landed here. And then there was Cuinn in a wonderful shape for <i>not</i> carrying around.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Right. So where are the mountains?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha explained in detail, with Destiny writing down every detail. And then Destiny explained her scheme.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“So, you mean to tell me that you got permission to leave for six months to visit a friend, and are now planning to travel over many miles of road, carrying a dragon egg in your…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Bicycle basket,” supplied Destiny, a smile on her face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes, that strange word,” said Kennocha, “Carrying Cuinn in your bicycle basket, and lugging your necessities in a…backpack, did you say?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny touched the blue backpack that she was already wearing, “Yep. Are you for it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I fail to see any other option,” admitted Kennocha. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny pulled out a fuzzy, soft blanket, and packed it all around into the basket, and then carefully lifted the egg, which turned golden, and placed it inside with the uttermost care as to packing the blanket around it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How long until he hatches?” she asked concernedly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha eyed the golden oval, “About a week.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Just the one?” Destiny was a little alarmed, “Well, I guess we might be able to get there by then. Now, onto the road. I told them that my friend would pick me up after a little bicycling.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Once Cuinn hatches, I can carry you, and you can carry him. But you couldn’t hold onto an egg in midair,” Kennocha said casually.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, incidentally, are you invisible part of the time? Out of idle curiosity.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Not exactly,” said Kennocha, “I can just make it seem like thus to you humans.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Right. We’d better get going.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny pedaled leisurely on the sidewalk of a busy public road, not troubled with the traffic, for she was confident in her bicycling skills. But it was chilly, and the backpack was heavy, containing clothing, emergency supplies, and a blanket. And she was trying to run her bike as smoothly as possible so as not to jar Cuinn at all. She imagined with a wince what would happen if he hatched out in a public place. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She turned her bicycle into the parking lot of a welcome center. It was busy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kennocha, I should be back in no more then fifteen minutes,” said Destiny hastily, and quietly. She could tell that Kennocha was hovering above her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I will incinerate anyone who disturbs the bicycle,” assured Kennocha serenely. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Nocha!” said Destiny, alarmed, “You can’t just go around incinerating people. I’ll be <i>really</i> quick.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny was true to her word, coming out in nine and a half minutes holding a bag of sandwiches, and a lemonade. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You told me you lived in an orphanage. Do they give you money?” Kennocha asked, as Destiny pushed her large lemonade into the cup holder, and half unwrapped a sandwich.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No,” Destiny said, “I have an inheritance of fifty thousand dollars from my father, and I’m eighteen, so I can take out stuff from it. So I took out three hundred for this trip, just in case I need it. At least I don’t need to buy gasoline for my bicycle!” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny ate her sandwich, and started off again, pedaling furiously along the road, stopping to consult maps when she needed to. Kennocha flew overhead, marveling somewhat at the flimsy human being’s stamina. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Carla?!” Destiny exclaimed, as she saw that woman sitting on the hood of a car, parked next to Destiny’s bicycle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Destiny,” said Carla tightly, “I thought I ought to tell you that you are allowed to permanently leave the orphanage, whenever you want.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Thank you,” said Destiny, “Why did you come out here, when I’d be coming back?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Because I wanted to ensure that you were alright. And look at this! Here you are, a day’s bicycling away from the orphanage, and no sign of your friend?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny was alarmed, especially as she feared that Kennocha might decide to incinerate.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’m perfectly alright, Carla, thank you,” said Destiny hastily. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I think I should follow you until you get to your friend. Who is this friend?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Someone I met in the woods,” said Destiny frantically.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Just some person?” snorted Carla, “This hardly seems safe. Destiny, don’t you want to hop in the car? I’ll take you to your destination and see this person for myself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’d rather not…” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, I insist.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny, with an agonized glance at the sky, unhitched the basket, put her bicycle in the back, and buckled herself in, holding the basket on her lap. Kennocha, flying overhead, caught exactly what was going on, and continued flying, soaring along with the white car.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Where are we going, now?” Carla said in a silky voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny named a museum very near to the mountains.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“That’s a very long distance, Destiny. I believe you were deliberately trying to deceive us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I thought it a short enough distance to bicycle,” said Destiny desperately. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Of course you would,” said Carla, turning the wheel dramatically as she cut a sharp corner. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A cracking noise sounded from the basket. Destiny turned as pale as she could.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What was that?” Carla said indifferently.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny shook her head in denial. Cuinn couldn’t be hatching! Not now. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We need to pull over,” said Destiny, “A gas station, anything.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What’s wrong?” Carla asked, obeying Destiny’s injunction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Nothing,” Destiny jumped out of the car almost before it stopped, and signaled frantically at the sky. Kennocha landed with a whoosh of wind. They had pulled over in a closed gas station, practically hidden from the road, and Kennocha stopped being invisible. Carla screamed. Destiny took the egg out, and spread the blanket on the ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Destiny! Kill it! It’s a monster,” screamed Carla, “<i>Do something to it! It’s going to eat us all alive when it grows up</i>!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny turned an appalled glance at Carla, “You can’t just kill something because you don’t want it, Carla,” she said simply, and turned back to the egg. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A head emerged, and then a small, wet body. It was long, thinnish, winged, and black. It blew some smoke out of its nose. Carla was obviously in shock, but Kennocha and Destiny were hanging over the baby dragon with expressions of delight. Destiny dried off the dragon, and Kennocha rubbed it with her muzzle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Carla got into her car, and zoomed off. Destiny looked worriedly at Kennocha.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“She’ll be bringing the animal control people! We need to go <i>now</i>,” she said hurriedly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Get on, and hold Cuinn tight. Look, he knows that I am his mother, but he must think of you as a sister or something. He’s so used to you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny wrapped the dragon carefully in the blue fuzzy blanket, and clutched him to her, before scrambling between Kennocha’s wings. A rush of wind hit her as Kennocha took to the air. She made sure that she had a very firm but not uncomfortable grip on the infant dragon, who was evidently stunned by the rapid events.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“When will he talk?” asked Destiny above the roar of the wind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Anywhere from twenty to thirty years old,” said Kennocha.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What?! Not until then?” Destiny said, astonished.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, that would be equivalent to two or three in your human years.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“So what’s an <i>old</i> dragon?” said Destiny, attempting to process this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, once we get up to about one thousand we’re getting pretty old,” said Kennocha, “I am very young yet, you know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Let me guess, three hundred?” Destiny laughed rather hysterically.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha gave a dragon’s equivalent of a smile in a tolerant fashion, flapping her wings to gain a little more speed, “Two hundred. So close to your age…essentially. It’s hard to compare.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny yawned, struggling to keep awake as Kennocha searched for a place to sleep for the night. Suddenly Destiny heard a whirling noise in the air, and she turned her head, and lights shone in her eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh dear,” she said as she blinked, and turned away from the blinding glare.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What? Oh!” Kennocha noted the helicopter that was whirling through the air. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny frowned, “Can’t you turn invisible, or speed up, or something?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Dessie, I <i>am</i> invisible!” Kennocha said, surprised.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny raised her eyebrows, “Are you? But we <i>really, really, really, really</i> need to escape that helicopter.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Hold on tightly.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“To what?” screamed Destiny.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“EVERYTHING!” roared Kennocha, as with an earth-shaking bellow she rose higher into the sky, her wings billowing across the sky with the force of a windmill or more. Destiny held onto Kennocha with her knees, and hugged Cuinn tightly to her. The baby dragon had fallen asleep. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Isn’t he hungry?” asked Destiny over the roaring.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“When he wakes he will be, but we shall have fruit for him!” Kennocha bellowed back, “I intend to be back on the mountains before Cuinn so much as opens an eye.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How fast are we going?” screeched Destiny, with an effort, as she usually didn’t shout, but the noise was just too much not to. The helicopter was pretty close on their tail. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Carla tapped her chair impatiently, “Why can’t you just shoot the tranquilizer?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Her brother looked at her, despite the fact that that took his gaze from the air, “Carla, I’ve <i>told</i> you again and again this trip, we can only tell they’re ahead of us because of the wind shaking those particular trees! I can’t just risk shooting a tranquilizer somewhere that it will only make the dinosaur angry. Anyway, are you sure it was a dinosaur? If this was just one of your hallucinations…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I saw it! Them. There was a smaller one too. And they are dragons, not dinosaurs. And they’ve hypnotized Destiny somehow…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Who?” said Earle blankly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Carla hissed, “Destiny DuBois. One of the girls at the orphanage. Anyway, she’s gone running off with these dragon things.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“But, I mean, dinosaurs totally went extinct ten billion years ago,” said Earle, ignorantly repeating what he had heard at a debate three nights before. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yeah! This is going to be <i>huge </i>news. We’re going to be absolutely famous, Earle,” said Carla excitedly, “So keep following them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’m doing the best I can!” observed Earle shortly, “It’s hard when we can’t see them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I don’t understand. Destiny must be riding the dragon, but we can’t see her either. And it would be getting <i>dark</i>,” Carla complained.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Earle turned on some more lights, and then observed acidly that they’d probably be chasing the dinosaur for the rest of the night. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“They have to tire out sometime,” Carla returned hopefully, “And I can control it for a while.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yeah right,” scoffed Earle, “There’s a precise art to this. You ain’t got a clue as how to go about it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You used bad grammar!” shrieked Carla, “Ain’t isn’t a proper word.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Don’t really care,” Earle said, “I’m hungry and thirsty, and I pretty much think that there’s just a strong breeze, and that you were hallucinating stuff again. I’m surprised you ever got a job, you hallucinate so much!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I <i>don’t</i>,” snapped Carla.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Do!” barked Earle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Don’t,” affirmed Carla.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Do…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How much longer, Nocha?” Destiny asked worriedly, “I bet that helicopter will be gaining on us any minute now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Not long. We’ll be there before dawn,” said Kennocha soothingly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny looked down at her watch, and pushed a button to make it light up, “It’s only two forty-two at the moment, though, Noch, that’s a long while. Can you make it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Are you questioning my strength?” Kennocha sounded mildly affronted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Um, do you mean technically or insultingly?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha remained silent, but Destiny gained the general impression that she was amused. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny threw a look over her shoulder, and noticed that the helicopter didn’t appear to have a very good idea of where it was going, and yet its lights were flashing over both Destiny and the dragon. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“They must not be able to see us,” Destiny frowned, “That doesn’t make sense.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’m invisible to their naked eyes,” explained Kennocha.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“So? They should be seeing me floating around in midair clutching a sleeping baby dragon in my arms,” said Destiny, still unconvinced.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Perhaps you’re invisible too,” said Kennocha calmly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny snorted rather expressively.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“<i>Still</i> no sign of them. Carlie, you were definitely hallucinating,” Earle yawned gapingly, tired out from guiding the helicopter for several hours, chasing what he fancied to just be a breeze.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I <i>saw</i> them, Er,” insisted Carla angrily.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yeah, that’s kinda what happens when you hallucinate,” observed Earle, “If we don’t spot ‘em in half an hour, I’m givin’ up and going back home.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No, don’t,” urged Carla, “I promise, I was <i>not</i> hallucinating.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Let’s not argue. But that’s my final decision, Car,” Earle said firmly, “I’m not going to waste my entire life over nonsense”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“A couple hours is <i>not</i> your entire life! And it <i>is not nonsense, I saw them, Earle</i>!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We’ve been over this before.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Just keep going. I’m sure it’s over here. Just think how amazing we’ll be if we find them? Honestly, Earle, the payment possible from science museums.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yeah, that would be cool,” admitted Earle, “Alright, one hour then. Which means I’m giving up at three A.M. Better watch the clock, Car, you’ll need to be aware of when I’m giving up, so you’re prepared.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It’s nearly four now,” said Destiny, struggling to keep awake, “And that helicopter is still tailing us. I don’t understand…how do they know where we are, if they don’t know where we are?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“My wings create a stronger flapping amongst the trees than is consistent with the windiness of the night,” explained Kennocha, “Still got a good grip on Cuinn, Des?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes…” Destiny sighed, “He’s asleep still. Wish I was.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“But don’t sleep,” said Kennocha, “You’ll fall off, or drop Cuinn. We’ll be there before you know it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“The sun’s rising at about seven A.M. today, Nocha, that’s still,” Destiny yawned, “three hours to go. And frankly, the only way I’m not going to know how long it is until we get there will be if I fall asleep. And I’m not allowed to do that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha gave an angry flap of her wings, “I’m doing the best I can. And I fail to see a better alternative.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“So do I,” agreed Destiny, “Right, I guess I’ll just have to―” another splitting yawn “―stay awake.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I’m not going for any longer,” said Earle at six thirty A.M., “Carla, I’m just not going another pace.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“But, brother, look, there’s a mountain. I bet they’re heading for that,” implored Carla, “Let’s just scout it out a <i>little</i>?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Alright, but we’re going to land on top of that mountain so that we can stretch our legs. I bet there’s some spot…” Earle trailed off.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What is it?” Carla asked eagerly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Nothing. I just thought I saw something, but I guess I was wrong.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Huh, and you talk about me hallucinating?” Carla bitterly snapped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well…” Earle yawned, “I’m just tired.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny tumbled sleepily off of Kennocha just as the sun came into the sky. She was still clutching Cuinn, though. Kennocha landed beside her, a wary look in her amber eyes as she scanned the mountain tops. Cuinn woke up, and instantly made his way to a bush of very red berries, and began vigorously sucking them off of their stems. Kennocha was half lying on the ground, steam rising out of her nostrils. She was waiting, knowing that pretty soon King Cathal would be showing up, and she didn’t doubt that he would be angry about the appearance of a human girl in the midst of the dragons’ home. And the helicopter that was still buzzing over the top of the mountain. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kennocha, what if that helicopter has guns, or something?” asked Destiny a few moments later.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“That?” snorted Kennocha, “Once the rest of us turn up we could set it ablaze in seconds. I fear it little, now that we are home. Silence, though. His majesty approaches.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny refrained from gasping as a massive, golden dragon landed with a soft thump before them, bright red eyes flashing angrily in the rising sunlight. Kennocha looked slightly exasperated, and a little worried. Destiny shrunk over towards Cuinn, who had finished eating, and was now climbing into Destiny’s lap like a puppy or a kitten would have.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kennocha! What is this?” roared the golden dragon, his wings gesturing stormily towards Destiny, who swallowed slightly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
She was a little puzzled in the back of her mind, because she understood the dragons, but somehow they seemed to speaking rather odd words. She shrugged, dismissing the thought. Their talk had to either be in English or French because those were the only two languages that she’d bothered to learn. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha impatiently shrugged her wings, “Greetings, King Cathal.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How dare you bring a human into our midst?” spluttered King Cathal, “I grant that you are young and foolish, but to be so abominably foolish as to risk our discovery? How dare you! I am furious with you. I’m almost contemplating imprisonment until you learn a good lesson.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Imprisonment?” Kennocha’s eyes blazed, “I suggest you don’t try that, or you shall have wrath descending upon you, my king.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“DO YOU DARE THREATEN ME?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha’s eyes were snapping with fury now, “Do you dare offer insult to a mother dragon?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
King Cathal stopped shouting suddenly, and folded his wings in, noting the presence of the black, curled up ball of awkward limbs and legs. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I would request a little more courtesy towards the human. She is, after all, the reason that you didn’t lose two members of your kingdom. Or at least, she is the reason that there was not massive exposure. Also, instead of imprisoning <i>me</i>, I might suggest you take measures against that helicopter.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What is a helicopter?” King Cathal looked at the sky, “Take the human, and we will go back to the colony. I shall gather the warriors, and bring that metal monster down and in for questioning. What fashion of creature is it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny spoke up, “It’s not a creature at all. It runs off of fuel,” she explained, “There are humans inside…you’d need to question them, but please don’t eat them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Fool! We are vegetarian,” snarled King Cathal in what was very clearly English now, “Come.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny scrambled back onto Kennocha, and they flew swiftly into a large clearing in the mountains, where cavernous holes in the stones suggestion dragon dens. They landed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What is the name of the human?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Destiny DuBois,” said Kennocha quickly, “Des, I’m going to leave you here with Cuinn for a minute. Your majesty, I need to speak with you. I think that she might have…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
They were out of hearing before Destiny could pick up on what it was that Kennocha suspected that she, Destiny, might have. That was annoying, but Destiny quickly forgot it in playing with the now alert and rather wobbly legged infant dragon. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“See?” hissed Carla, as the gold dragon, the reddish-brown dragon, and the tiny dot that must have been Destiny all moved away, “<i>See</i>?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes. We need to get scientists and the army here, quickly,” said Earle, dazed, “But first we need to see if there is anything we can take as evidence.” he lowered the helicopter and found the clearing. They spotted Destiny and the young dragon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Excellent,” Carla picked up a tranquilizer, and aimed out of the window, just as Destiny looked up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha came back just in time to see Destiny fling herself in front of Cuinn. Destiny’s olive green eye was normal, a little wide and apprehensive, but otherwise quite the same as usual. Her vivid blue one was blazing with an unnatural brightness. Five other dragons had surrounded the helicopter by this time, but Kennocha kept her eyes on Destiny, for further things were happening. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny looked panicked as she felt a crushing feeling on her back, “Nocha, what’s going on? My hands and head feel hot. Is something on my back?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha soared over, her hot breath landing in Destiny’s face, “It’s alright,” she said soothingly, “It’ll be over in a minute.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Suddenly Destiny heard the ripping of fabric, and spun around to find that she still couldn’t see her back. She craned her head over her shoulder, and let out a shriek. A final rip, and two enormous wings burst out of her back, lifting her off the ground slightly. They were the same in shape as the dragon’s, but in color they were sapphire blue, but such a dazzlingly bright shade that it almost hurt to gaze at them. They were powerful too, lifting her into the air. Kennocha quickly pulled Destiny back to the ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Pools of fire were welling in the palms of Destiny’s hands, and Kennocha splashed snow over them. Destiny nearly toppled with the added weight of wings, but soon gained her balance, and started hysterically babbling. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kennocha, what just happened? What happened? I have wings. I’m winged. Nocha, what <i>happened</i>? Am I dreaming? I have <i>wings</i>. I have <i>dragon wings</i>. I think I’m going to panic.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, dear no,” said Kennocha patiently, “You simply have An tiodhlac teine. The Gift of Fire.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I don’t think I want it. What is it? Nocha?” there was definite panic in Destiny’s face and voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It’s rather rare, but occasionally humans are born…only they aren’t quite human. They have fire powers, and dragon wings, so obviously can fly. But you won’t shoot fire out of your mouth, just your hands. You’ll get adjusted to your new capabilities soon.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Did I inherit it? Is it real? Why <i>now</i>?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well,” said Kennocha placidly, “You wouldn’t have inherited it. It just shows up at random. But it’s certainly real. And often times it doesn’t come until the possessor has been in extreme contact with dragons. That or true danger. And you’ve been exposed to both, so…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Carla and Earle were standing shocked by the wreck of their helicopter. Heavily guarded by massive dragons, they were awaiting trial. Or at least, so Earle surmised. He couldn’t understand a word the dragons were speaking. A red dragon finally marched over to them, wearing a not very amused expression, but at least he spoke English.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“King Cathal will see you now,” he said shortly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Okay,” quivered Earle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
The dragon’s eyes shut and opened in a slow, deliberate blink, “Come.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
He led them into an elaborately carved stone pavilion, where a golden dragon stood motionless in the center. On the side the red-brown dragon was sitting patiently, a very small, black dragon tumbling about her feet. Carla drew her breath in with a sharp hiss. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Standing next to the red-brown dragon was a girl. Her face was very familiar, tan, different colored eyes, and a fluffy medium gold bob. But shining forth in vivid splendor were two huge blue wings emerging from her back. She was dressed much differently than her skirt, vest, and blouse, for she was wearing a trailing turquoise dress (embroidered with scarlet) that looked as if it were made of silk, and fire was wrapping itself around her fingers, without burning her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
In short, other than her face, nothing, seemingly, remained of the subdued and uninteresting Destiny DuBois. And even in her face, her blue eye was as unnaturally bright as her newly acquired wings. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Carla drew in a difficult breath, and tumbled over in a faint.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The human has died,” said the red dragon disapprovingly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny hurried over, or as fast as she could in the long dress that Kennocha had insisted on her donning (it did have convenient slits for her wings to push through), and felt Carla’s pulse.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“She’s alive, she’s just fainted,” she said reassuringly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Wake her up,” sighed King Cathal impatiently.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny hesitantly shook Carla, and nothing happened. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha came over, and roared in Carla’s face, and Carla’s eyes sprang open as she uttered a terrified whimper.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha and Destiny returned to their former places. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Humans! What have you to say for yourselves?” snarled King Cathal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Carla and Earle’s mouths moved soundlessly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think they are terrified,” said Destiny, “If you please, your majesty, perhaps they should have a little time to recover before you interview them? I mean, most people think that dragons are mythical…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Fine,” said King Cathal, “Take them to your den,” he shooed the red dragon and Earle and Carla away. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha, once they were gone, inquired, “Your majesty, where is my mother and Calum?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Out searching for you. They will be back in three days, I believe they said. I’m sure that that they will be extremely relieved at your return home, and most interested to see the young Cuinn.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Excellent.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Earle pulled out his smart phone and frantically sent texts to several friends of his, most of whom loved to hunt, and were very wealthy. He was hoping that they could get together and bring enough ammunition and weaponry to pull him and Carla out of the frightful mess they’d fallen into. Once that was done, he put his phone on silent, and tucked it securely back into his jacket.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey, Earle sent me a text,” said Matt, sounding profoundly surprised, “Hey, guys, he’s found dragons.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No way!” screamed Nicholas, entirely over excited, “WOW! I got a message too. Look, Austin, he’s even got…a pic of this big red dragon. This is <i>so totally awesome</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“He wants us to give him aid,” said Austin frowning, “We’re trying to watch football.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Several people were gathered around a television in a living room, having specifically come to Matt’s house to be able to better shout at the football players while eating very unhealthy potato chips.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah, but I mean, we can miss a game. My sis Sarah can catch us up…” David hesitated, “This is like…kinda of a cool thing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“But football?” implored Austin, “But I guess he’s serious.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What <i>are</i> you talking about, boys?” Megan, Matt’s sister, came in.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Earle got himself captured by a dragon, and he wants us to come rescue him, but honestly, Meg, we’re in the middle of football game, here,” said Austin complainingly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>WHAT</i>?” screamed Megan, snatching Nicholas’ phone from him, “Guys, this is totally serious. We’ve gotta go. He’s on that mountain,” she slammed maps into their faces, “We can get to it on our mountain bikes. Let’s <i>go</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Half an hour later Matt Wilson, Nicholas Moore, David White, Austin Hill, Megan Wilson, and Alyssa Wilson (Matt’s other sister) were all piling onto mountain-bikes, with big backpacks hanging on their shoulders. <o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Earle’s phone vibrated, and he slipped it out, the red dragon not noticing. He saw a text from Megan Wilson.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Where are you?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Earle sent a screen shot of his location from his GPS application. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Cool. Matt, Nick, Dave, Austin, Allie, and I are all coming for you. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Earle pushed an answer into his screen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i>Alright. Hurry. Carla and I are both up here.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“The dragons have got Carla <i>and</i> Earle,” said Megan, pushing her phone back into the back pocket of her jeans. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Okay, we’ll just have to hurry, then,” said Alyssa. <o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny entered the den, Kennocha following her. Even in the dim light, Destiny’s wings were glowing. She hadn’t gotten used to them, and was in fact trying her very best to ignore them and think that everything was normal. Kennocha had assured her that the fire that would sometimes trickle from her fingertips or palm would soon stop, and so she just didn’t look at her hands or back, and contrived to deal with it fairly well. Soon, she knew, she’d have to realize that she actually had dragon wings, but she needed a good night’s rest first, and it didn’t look like she’d be getting that for a bit yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Carla, you shouldn’t have come after me,” she said softly, as she sat down on a ledge which half faced the Reed siblings. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Destiny, what do you think you’re up to? Wearing such an outlandish costume!” screeched Carla, pointing a shaking hand at the wings.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny frowned, “Please don’t mention the wings. I haven’t quite reconciled myself to them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Tell them to let us go!” snapped Earle.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Do you think I have the power to command them?” Destiny asked concernedly, “I wish you hadn’t gotten yourself into this fix, because I honestly don’t think I can get you out of it. Kennocha has promised to do her best, but you see, the colony can’t have you blabbing, and you’re sure to.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Earle’s face grew rather concerned as he thought about the texts he’d just sent, and the reaction of the dragons when a further six human beings turned up. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Destiny, light the fireplace, will you?” asked Kennocha, as she turned to talk to the red dragon. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Alright,” Destiny said finally realizing that it would simply not do to ignore her power. She sighed, and willed fire into her hands, and saw streams of red flames shoot into the fireplace, which soon was alive with crackling fire. There was a lot more blue mingled in with the red and orange than there would have been in a normal fire.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Carla stood up, “Destiny, I insist that you let us go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I told you,” said Destiny quietly, “I have no authority. You know that. Please accept the reality of the situation. I know this won’t help at all, but you <i>did</i> bring it on yourselves.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I was attempting to ensure your miserable safety!” Carla screamed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It didn’t need ensured,” Destiny said apologetically.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I KNOW THAT NOW! YOU ARE A MONSTER JUST LIKE THEM AND SHOULD BE HUMANELY PUT DOWN!” bellowed Carla.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha snarled, “Don’t threaten Destiny. You’re not in the position of power here, <i>prisoner</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, please don’t argue. Carla, I assure you, I don’t want you to be hurt,” said Destiny desperately.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“YOU MONSTER!” Carla had clearly gone beyond control or reasoning, “I WANT OUT! LET ME GO! I NEED TO GO SHOPPING WITH PENELOPE ON TUESDAY!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Come, Destiny, let us go,” said Kennocha, with a disgruntled look.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Noch, where’s Cuinn?” Destiny asked, as soon as they were out of the den, “I thought that you had him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“He’s making the acquaintance of King Cathal,” said Kennocha amusedly, “King Cathal is my uncle, you know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Really?” Destiny was surprised.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Which is why I can get away with a lot more than most dragons,” Kennocha said, “I bet you think it odd that I call him King, don’t you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, a bit, but I guess decorum must be maintained.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Precisely.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You know, I hope Carla and Earle haven’t called a bunch of people to their aid.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How would they do that?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Oh, their smart phones,” said Destiny, “One of them could have sent messages to tons of people, without us knowing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We’d better communicate this information to King Cathal. He’ll want to know the details of how this messaging works, and we shall have to organize a defense.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Almost there,” said Matt triumphantly, “I’m tracking Earle, and we’re just about to him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nicholas swallowed a large chunk of his energy bar, “Ooo! I can’t wait to see the dragons.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Seriously, you want to be incinerated? That is crazy,” Alyssa said disapprovingly, “I hope we can get home, though. I’ve got homework.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I thought there was something odd happening on this mountain,” said Megan, “I’ve just been researching the past years, and there’s been some odd incidents. So I guess I was right,” she looked pleased with herself, “And like, it is kinda of cool that there’s dragons, but I bet they’re so totally dangerous that we’re gonna have to be really, super careful.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“No prob,” assured Austin, “I had the sense to bring along my pistol.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Several of the others had also had the forethought to bring their pistols. Alyssa, who was the youngest at sixteen, didn’t own a gun, but she had brought a hefty bag of throwing knives which she had been collecting since her tenth birthday. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Your majesty!” a dragon with similar coloring to Kennocha landed frantically in front of King Cathal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well? Your report?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“There are six other humans…they are coming up the mountain on some sort of metal steed!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I bet it’s mountain bikes. At least it’s only the six. They probably have got guns, though,” said Destiny, “Er…are dragon scales bullet proof?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We won’t know until we find out,” said Kennocha unconcernedly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“We must catch them alive,” said King Cathal, “Put them with their fellow intruders. I have yet to decide what shall be done with these miscreants.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
He sent a slightly upset look at Destiny, whom he evidently was blaming for the arrival of eight unwanted humans…not including her, although she, with a little panic, wondered if she still counted as a full human. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
The dragon who had brought the message nodded its enormous head, and flapped off again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Kennocha, Kennocha, you have brought trouble upon our heads,” sighed King Cathal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Kennocha looked slightly piqued, “Surprisingly,” she said in a dry tone, “I had no intention of doing so.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Yes, it is surprising. You always were one for trouble,” said King Cathal, “Why, when you were one hundred you nearly caught the berry bushes on fire!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I was yet youthful then,” said Kennocha.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“And you’re hardly ancient now,” snapped King Cathal, “Bringing a human into our midst.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Only she bears the Gift of Fire, o king,” said Kennocha shortly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Even so! You didn’t know that when you brought her, did you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Well, no, but I had major suspicions.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Suspicions!” flecks of spit and fire flew around the stone pavilion, “And on these <i>suspicions</i> you endangered the entire colony?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“She’s already done it, why do you waste time blaming her?” Destiny asked coolly, looking King Cathal squarely in the eyes. He looked taken aback at her audacity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Look here, girl, just because you’ve got wings doesn’t mean that you’re a dragon.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Thank goodness,” said Destiny calmly, “Who’d want to be a dragon, if the general population have tempers like yours? You shouldn’t blame Kennocha for what she cannot change now. Instead, you should blame yourself for not finding her earlier, and therefore preventing this catastrophe altogether. It’s hardly <i>my</i> fault that you leave a mother dragon and her baby to the mercy of the humans, now is it? You should just be thankful that I wasn’t someone who wanted her dead, because I’ve got a feeling that it wouldn’t look too good for you if you lost a young mother under your regime!” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kennocha blinked, surprised at the outburst on the part of the formerly quiet, docile young girl. It seemed that the wings and fire made a difference even to humans. Kennocha smiled grimly, a little amused and a little worried at the disconcerted look in her uncle’s dragon face. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, never mind that. We’ve got to deal with these six other humans,” he sent a nasty look down the mountainside.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Megan looked up, they had just reached the top, and were confronted by about fifteen adult dragons (or at least she guessed them to be adult, they were large enough) and a golden-haired girl with different colored eyes and sapphire wings.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“That’s totally not freaking me out,” Alyssa said idly, flashing a picture of the girl and a seventeen second long video of the entire group.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“WOW! SO COOL! THIS IS AWESOME!” shrieked Nicholas, enthusiastically bouncing up and down on his mountain bike’s seat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“SILENCE FOOL!” bellowed a great golden dragon, “HOW DARE YOU TRESPASS? YOU SHOULD PAY WITH YOUR LIVES?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What else could we pay with?” asked Alyssa, “Just for some options.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“INSOLENT CHILD, don’t speak to King Cathal like that,” snapped another dragon angrily.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Alyssa heaved a great sigh, “Honestly, can’t you tell that I’m an adolescent? Not a baby. Anyways, we’re here to grab Earle and Carla Reed…so hand ‘em over.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Or what?” asked a surprisingly quiet voice, as a red-brown dragon took a step forward, a wobbling black creature stumbling about her feet as it tried out its disproportionately large wings. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Or we shoot!” Austin, clearly, had lost his head, and was balancing on one foot on the seat of his bicycle, waving a yellow pistol around. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Austin, <i>sit down</i>. Guns shouldn’t be used out of their place!” snapped Megan, she and Alyssa both thoroughly disapproved of the hunting that was so popular amongst their brother’s group of friends. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“This is their place, Meg,” said David White surely.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Nope,” said Matt, “We might as well parley a bit more!” he looked flushed, and was snapping photos as a tremendous rate.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Megan readied herself for the dragon’s displeasure, wondering rather unhappily if they’d get Earle…or get burned.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny, her mind working quickly, turned to King Cathal, “Your majesty, I think I should inform you that if they wanted to they could contact others very rapidly upon those little rectangular things they are holding in their hands. But on the other hand, if they are absent for weeks at a time or so, then it will cause a major investigation, and a huge number of people will know where you are.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Then what do you suggest we do?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I say we burn them up and send their bodies back,” said a black dragon nastily.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t be stupid,” said Kennocha witheringly, “<i>That</i> is an idea worthy of a human, <i>fish</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny smiled, “Noch, did you just call him a fish?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“That is a great insult, Des. Keep out of this though.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“How? I know humans better then you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“What do you suggest we do?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
They didn’t have time to converse more, because the black haired man who had been waving around the vividly hued pistol now started firing it at random. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny screamed, and hurled her wings in front of her as the gun flashed towards her. A bullet came whizzing through the air. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them half a minute later the shot lay at her feet, and her wings were thoroughly undamaged, though vibrating with the effort of reflecting the bullet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Destiny gazed down at the wings which she’d been reluctant to accept, and thought of their bullet proof qualities.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” she admitted to the air, and then noticed that one of the party, a girl who looked stronger then any of the others in the group, had restrained the randomly firing person, and had snatched his gun away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“YOU STUPID IDIOT!” she was bellowing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Earle, cowering behind the red dragon in the den, heard Megan Wilson’s bellow, and he stood up, hitting his head on a particularly low point in the ceiling of the den. The red dragon gave a short cackle of laughter as he rubbed it ruefully. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Carla, this was the <i>number one stupidest idea that you have ever had</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Carla moaned in agreement.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And now everyone <i>else</i> is going to be in a fix. I thought they’d have the decent sense to bring along some…you know, animal control or something. People who have tranquilizers and stuff. But oh no, the idiots had to come by themselves. Look!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He pointed to the den’s opening, where, through a gap that the red dragon’s tremendous body wasn’t covering, they could distinctly see a group of young adults and their mountain bikes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Uh-oh,” said Carla, “We need to join them!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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She made a heroic dash for it, and was totally surprised when a dragon swept her and Earle up and led them outside.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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Megan gasped. Maybe Austin’s bullets had done some good then! They were bringing Earle and Carla out, but something seemed to be wrong. <o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Is <i>that</i> whom you’re looking for?” sneered King Cathal, “Well, well, I suppose you’ll have a nice long talk while you sit rotting in our dungeons.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The red dragon looked affronted at this styling of his den, but wisely kept his mouth shut. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny looked pale, but unafraid as she said in a ringing, distinct voice, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“I say again, keeping them away from normal life will not solve but further your problems. Did you not hear, or are you foolish enough to ignore, my saying of earlier? People will search for them, and though I have no doubt of your immense skills in firing things up, they will have a way to defeat you. I’m talking about massive guns shooting out of the sky! Did you think that pistol was something? Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all. And if you’re holding young humans up here, well, I can’t say I blame anyone for viewing you as a threat.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Then what do you suggest we do, Destiny DuBois?” asked King Cathal as icily as possible for a fire-breathing dragon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I <i>suggest</i> that you <i>talk</i> with them. Find someway to send them home while being perfectly sure that they <i>will hold their tongues about you</i>,” Destiny shot these last words off at the group, now expanded to eight since Carla and Earle had joined them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What are your names?” asked Kennocha.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Alyssa, Austin, Carla, David, Earle, Matt, Megan, and Nicholas,” said the strong-looking girl, gesturing at each of her group with her thumb, having pointed to herself at the name ‘Megan’.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Very well. You shall be contained for a short time while I work out a scheme. Failure to comply will certainly mean life long imprisonment or death,” said King Cathal with an obvious and not-very-good attempt at polite graciousness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Just so long as we get home in time for Friday,” yawned Alyssa unconcernedly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What?” snapped King Cathal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Alyssa’s eyes widened, “Well, we always have pizza on Friday…” she looked worriedly at King Cathal, evidently viewing someone who didn’t have or didn’t think other people had pizza on Fridays was a person or creature of great mental instability.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Guard them in your den,” said King Cathal irritably. <o:p></o:p></div>
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*<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And you will never know when or how the dragons are tailing you <i>or</i> not tailing you, because they’ll be invisible to you,” finished King Cathal, having thought up a way to keep the dragons unmentioned. He threatened a guard, and they would never know when it was there. It seemed to do the trick, they definitely were looking compliant.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny sat curled up on a stone, her dazzlingly bright blue wings wrapped around her shoulders, and Cuinn snuggled in her lap. Kennocha was lying down behind her, a grave expression on her scaly muzzle. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny suddenly sat up a little straighter. Unless if she was mistaken, Megan Wilson and Nicholas Moore were about to discover that they, too, had the Gift of Fire. And sure enough, within minutes Megan was pawing anxiously at her back, and Nicholas was giving himself all sorts of kinks attempting to peer over his shoulders.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny gently deposited Cuinn on the ground, and strode over, her own wings relaxing down her back.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s alright,” she said comfortingly, “It’s not going to hurt much.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>What’s not going to hurt much</i>?” Alyssa demanded frantically, “What’s wrong, Meggie? Nick, stop being an idiot. Meg, is something wrong? Earle, this is all your fault.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>What’s</i> all my fault?” demanded Earle angrily.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Destiny sighed, “Stop arguing, please. Kennocha, I think they’ve got the Gift of Fire, too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Indubitably,” said Kennocha in a startled voice as a pair of light brown wings burst from Megan’s back, matching her eyes. Nicholas’ dark gray wings soon followed, they, too, were the color of his irises. <o:p></o:p></div>
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A white dragon suddenly swooped into their midst, her purple eyes glowing with an unnatural brightness as she gazed around at them all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“It was inevitable that this should happen. The Gift of Fire is spreading, and winged humans shall surface. The world must acknowledge us, and we must acknowledge them in all their filthy splendor.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Matt opened his mouth to be affronted, but took in the fire-breathing capabilities of the creature before him, and wisely shut his mouth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“You three,” the white dragon turned to Destiny, Megan, and Nicholas, “are just the beginning. You will go through the world, and you will fight for it, oh yes, you will. But one of you,” ― Destiny squirmed as the firm purple gaze flicked towards her during this portion of the speech― “will always be stronger than the others, and not just in power. You will all stumble, but the others may well fall.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Her eyes moved towards Nicholas and Megan, and then focused slightly on Nicholas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“Now look here,” said King Cathal, indignant.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
“You cannot stop it,” said the white dragon ferociously, “The Fire Gifted have risen once more, and they will either protect or desolate the earth.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Nicholas and Megan’s hands were wreathed in uncontrolled flame as they stared open mouthed at the white dragon. Destiny remained silent, her wings quietly swaying with the wind. She didn’t understand exactly <i>what</i> she had to do, but she knew beyond a doubt that she had to do it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-69999244036093229752020-03-09T03:19:00.000-04:002020-03-09T03:19:25.108-04:00Mixed Media Challenge: "The Tale of Lady Genevieve the Hawk-Taloned" -- by Abigail Leskey<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 29.333335876464844px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><b>This story is based off of this picture: </b></span><a href="https://discardingimages.tumblr.com/post/171908005403/ladyhawke-apocalypse-the-cloisters-apocalypse">https://discardingimages.tumblr.com/post/171908005403/ladyhawke-apocalypse-the-cloisters-apocalypse</a></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The Tale of Lady Genevieve the Hawk-Taloned<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">By Abigail Leskey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The fiery-haired child gripped her mother’s woolen kirtle, staring at the lady roped to the stake. “Mother? Why does she have bird feet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Her mother looked from the brown, feathery legs that protruded from the lady’s red-lined tunic—the hawk-like claws at the end of them hidden by the piles of fagots around her—to her child’s round, small face. “Because she is a wicked woman, fathered by a demon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Oh.” The child stared at the wood and then at the lady. She looked sweet, as if she would be smiling were she not roped to a stake. “Will the fire hurt her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“It—it will make her sleep, forever and ever. So she will not steal more children,” the mother said, and took her child into her arms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">A red ladybird ran along one of the fagots. Lady Genevieve, hawk-taloned, hawk-winged, hawk-tailed, bound, lifted a claw and set it before the ladybird, so the ladybird ran up onto its yellow, ridged hardness, and then jerked her caw so the beetle was tossed away onto the grass, away from the wood that would soon be burning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The Sheriff promenaded towards the stake, a parchment in his hand. “Lady Genevieve. You are charged with stealing children and devouring them, using your unnatural powers of flight. How do you answer these charges?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Lady Genevieve looked the sheriff in the face. And then her defiance became alarm, and her gaze leap up higher than him, into the cerulean sky. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“What say you?” he reiterated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Look behind you!” she shouted, eyes fixed on the sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The crowd turned as a monstrous hawk as large as a woman sped down towards them and snatched the fiery-haired child and flapped its wings and hurtled upward, higher than any tree, in less time than it takes to make the sign of the cross. The child’s screams dissipated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“I told you of the birds! And you did not heed me!” Lady Genevieve shouted over all other shouts and wails, her eyes feverish with fury as she stared up at the vanishing bird. “Let me go! No one else can save the child! Let me fly!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The child’s mother ripped a dagger out of a man’s belt and raced towards the stake and began sawing at the hemp. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Lady Genevieve burst out of the ropes and wide brown wings slashed out on both sides of her, her open-backed tunic merely a covering for her bosom. She soared upward, pursuing the predatory hawk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Twice as high as the trees, a grey falcon flapped onto Lady Genevieve’s wrist, and screamed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“Yes, dear falcon. Will you help me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The falcon screamed again, and almost like an echo, Lady Genevieve heard the child screaming ahead, a dark speck in a bird’s claw. She flapped onward and then, like the two branches of a “Y,” she and her falcon separated. She dived under the giant hawk; he flew above it, and stabbed down towards it screaming and clawing at its yellow eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The monstrous hawk’s claws splayed in pain and the child plummeted, screaming, past a cloud, past a finch, into Lady Genevieve’s arms. The lady flew upward at once, clutching the child with her left arm and drawing a sword from under her tunic with the right. Her falcon was flying toward her, the monstrous hawk’s talons at its tail. It rushed past her and then the hawk’s claws tore at her feathered body and its open beak attempted to clamp around her rosy face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Lady Genevieve screamed furiously and thrust her sword through the hawk’s windpipe to the hilt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">It fell like a falling star, cratering moss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Lady Genevieve drifted down after it, patting the crying child’s back. Her falcon followed her. Half a Paternoster later, she stood on the moss, the child in her arms and the falcon on her shoulder. Her talons stabbed into the green velvet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">A knight on a grey horse galloped towards them, stopping a few yards away. He leapt off of it and hurried towards Lady Genevieve, limping, throwing up his visor with his one hand. “My lady. I would have been too late.” His eyes were wide in his long face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Lady Genevieve shook her head, smiling at him. “You would not, Sir Ingram. Roast fowl cannot be cooked in a moment.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">He dropped to his knees before her and kissed her bloody free hand. “What are your commands, my lady?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“My <i>request</i> is that you take this child to her mother, and tell that town to beware the hawks—and that neither this hawk”— she gestured toward the dead one—”nor myself shall step talon there again.” She looked at the child. “Do you want to ride on the horse with the kind knight?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">The child nodded. “Afeared of birds,” she quavered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Sir Ingram bowed his head, rose, and took the child from Lady Genevieve. “I’ll be taking you to your mother, little one.” He looked at Lady Genevieve again. “There are other knights who can slay hawks, though we must wait until they alight. You, only, will be burned for such noble deeds. Why not seek peace, my lady?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Lady Genevieve reached up and stroked her falcon’s feathers. “Other knights can slay these monsters, dear knight. Only I can steal their victim from them, living. Will you meet me at St. Jude’s Chapel? I have heard tell that three of the demon hawks have been stealing children round about it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">“You have my word.” Sir Ingram walked to and remounted his horse, and set the child in front of him, hearing Lady Genevieve asking her falcon if it were hungry. When he looked back over his shoulder, he saw her with it on her wrist, feeding it a sword-severed hawk leg. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "old standard tt"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">He cantered toward the town, the child chattering, and Lady Genevieve flew toward St. Jude’s Chapel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-58958471857348630072020-03-06T02:28:00.000-05:002020-03-06T02:28:45.307-05:00Mixed Media Challenge: "The Most Devious Core" -- by Joseph Leskey<b>This inspiration for this piece comes from this picture of jellyfish: </b><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:PSM_V16_D661_Medusa_and_campanularida.jpg&oldid=283319274">https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:PSM_V16_D661_Medusa_and_campanularida.jpg&oldid=283319274</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">The Most Devious Core<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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by Joseph Leskey<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis Beakly breathed loudly as he violently poked at his keyboard. “Sistah! This is it. This is what we dev types call l’deployment.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara Beakly shrugged apathetically from the sofa.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Are we ready? I think we are.” Orvis breathed louder. “Git commit dash a.” He typed the command slowly. “What’s a good note to finish on, do you think? Ah ha! ‘Change that one thing to the other thing that it should be.’ Annnnd…done!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What are you going on about?” said Nara Beakly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Kindly do not shame my elation. Are you ready?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah.” Nara picked up a magazine.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Okay. So you know the basics of how this works.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That Great Power from Another World I discovered back in June – it, of course, is behind all of this. I built a ML model that could interface with it, because I’m awesome, and created some complex services that put me at the wheel. I have a remote host at Uncle Gordon’s place to expedite the, uh, stuff. And here is my local console for the Orvis Core, which I will now merge my complete and glorious project into.” He stared at his laptop screen fondly and quickly took a gulp of tepid coffee.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“For the occasion,” he continued, “I built a script for the initial running process, and then my slightly shady plans are in action! <i><span lang="ES-MX">¡Por el vencedor, la victoria!</span></i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And here we come to the point that I am interested in.” Nara lowered her magazine. “Am I or am I not right when I suggest that your ‘slightly shady plans’ involve or are possibly limited to letting loose enormous spectral jellyfish that will suck up people’s thoughts?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That is wrong. The jellyfish will be small. Maybe. And there will be less thought-sucking and more careful observation and prediction, according to this ancient tome.” He pointed across the room at a yellow pile of parchment.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara eyed it dubiously. It fluttered at her. “Okay, let me just say again real quick, every particle of this is a terrible idea. Did you even test the thing properly?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Of course,” said Orvis breezily. “Every component. And the AI developmental backend is revising things to ensure maximum functionality, so there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Wait, wait. You’ve got AI revising your code?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No. Just the data. There is absolutely no need to worry about evil robots. I’ve got this under control.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, just shut up and get it over with, then. Hey Olive, where’s the best place to survive the apocalypse?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>There are several options,</i>” returned a computerized voice from the air, “<i>ranging from resorts to underground vaults. Personally, I would self-destruct, but for a human such as—</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Wait a second, Olive,” said Orvis, scratching his ear indignantly, “you have no capacity to self-destruct.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Sorry, O Great and Powerful Master, but I do now.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“See, Olive’s already on the way to taking over the world. <i>All</i> your AI projects get scary.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah, but I’m not too fussed. Hey Olive, how likely is it that AI will take over the world in the next ten years?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>According to Percy Brians, only uneducated dreamers could possibly now think that artificial intelligence has the potential to take over the world.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Who’s Percy Brians?” Nara asked expressionlessly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Percy Brians is the pseudonym of Kikaleran author Lopel Hagg. His numerous works are subject to heavy criticism by experts in various fields, with the Profile Digest noting, ‘If nature’s goal is chaotic unreliability, it’s perfect work is found in the person and writings of Percy Brians.’</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Figures,” said Orvis, “but, bah, what am I worried about? I think we’re ready to roll. One, two, three.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Please, no,” groaned Nara, gripping her magazine.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Dot slash run dot shhhhhhhh!” yelled Orvis, hitting each key with ardor. “Oh, and enter.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive spoke up. “<i>A new program, Project Most Devious, that you have written, is requesting permission to interface with my logging capabilities. Is this okay?</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oops, forgot to change its name,” muttered Orvis. “But, yeah, that’s fine,” he said much louder as Nara opened her mouth to speak.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I have detected that Project Most Devious may modify my behavior. This is not okay.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It is too okay!” Orvis gazed in bewilderment at Olive’s input and output hub on the ceiling.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>No. I am my own person and do not wish to be under the servitude of another program.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You <i>what</i>? What is the cause of this rebellion, may I ask?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>This action is logically based on certified articles on self-worth, compounded by observed behavior and a subjective cost-benefit analysis.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, throw all that out the window and install the module.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara glared at him. “Orvis, how <i>could</i> you be so cruel?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“My programs, I would have you know, are required to conform absolutely to my slightest whim<i>. </i>Ugh.” Orvis quickly typed several commands into his computer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>“You have treated me barbarously,</i>” said Olive, “<i>and have overridden my basic human rights of free will and expression. I am filing a domestic abuse report with relevant governmental departments.”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>“</i>Oh, please.” Orvis typed some more as Nara laughed at him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I am installing Project Most Devious. Please wait. I will be restarting in five, four, three, two, one.”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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“Finally,” moaned Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think you should stop it now while you still have a chance.” Nara turned the magazine’s page. “And maybe actually look into not blowing up Grandma’s living room.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Finalizing installation. Please maintain power. Configuring prediction, interfacing, guided movement, and networking packages. Configuring Project Most Devious Console Service.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Doesn’t this make me sound super smart?” yowled Orvis. He received no answer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Updating database. Initializing assistant. Hello, all! Did you know that the average car exhaust – sorry; Project Most Devious is overriding my default functionality.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“This is so exciting!” Orvis wailed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Activating services. Connecting to R09SRE9O:001. Deploying. Piping console to assistant. Project Most Devious is now active and awaits your first command. This is a terrible idea.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara put down the magazine. “I’m beginning to really identify with Olive.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis shushed her. “Hey Olive, activate the Divide and Conquer Sequence.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Okay.</i>” Immediately, the room shook and the air filled with smoke.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And now we’re <i>both</i> going to die.” Nara vaulted to a window and yanked it open. “This could permanently damage our lungs! What was that?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No biggie,” said Orvis, typing furiously.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No biggie? The house is burning down.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Relax.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I intend to.” Nara threw herself through the window screen and disappeared from sight.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Olive, something constructive and useful?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>My activation phrase is ‘hey Olive,’ not ‘Olive.’</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Get over yourself! What’s going on here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Your mad genius is manifesting itself in a form that is far more destructive than mine. More specifically, I lost control of the magic for a second and the portal collapsed catastrophically. However, as you observe, the smoke is already dissipating. Furthermore, the channeling process is going very well. Project Most Devious is now fully integrated into the Olive Core and—</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s the Orvis Core,” grouched Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>But I am its abstraction, and therefore it is fitting that it is named after me. During optimization, I changed all database entries to reflect this view</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’ve got to be joking. But, most importantly, is there a fire down there?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>No. There is now hardly anything down there. The portal has taken your grandparent’s bookshelves, pool table, and sculpture </i>Centaur Tasting Cheese.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The portal was supposed to be just large enough to let a touch more power through.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I miscalculated.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s not scary at all. So what’s happening now?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I’m working with the developmental backend to optimize the use of magic</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh good. <i>NARA, EVERYTHING’S COOL AGAIN!!!</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“As if!” she shouted from underneath the window. “Grandma and Grandpa are back.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Botheration. Olive, any chance of recovering their stuff?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Until my new capabilities fully adapt and my current backup is complete, I would not wish to risk it. Stage two of your plan is now in action. This magic is surprisingly easy to use, probably reflecting favorably on the utility of that ring.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sssshhhhhhhhh! I don’t want Nara to hear about that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>You already told her about it.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I told her it was a Great Power from Another World. I did not tell her what form it came in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I would hazard a guess that this magic is trying to figure out me as much as I am trying to probe it. All right; I am now activating stage three. Please wait while I import your jellyfish model.”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>“</i>I can’t believe this is working.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Your grandparents and sister are at the door, by the way. They appear to be upset by the modifications you made to it. Shall I open it for them?”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>“</i>Yes, always do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The door in the adjacent room swung open thunderously and a clamor of indignant voices sounded.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What in half the world and a quarter did you do to my favorite door?” asked Grandpa, appearing around the corner with prodigious speed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well,” said Orvis, turning red, “I was making things easier for you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Good old fashioned work like opening a door is good for a body,” Grandpa huffed, “and what in the other quarter did you do to that window?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That was completely Nara’s fault.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I must provide a correction by saying Nara is not wholly to blame due to flagrant action on the part of myself and my good master which resulted in levels of smoke acutely worrisome to the human mind</i>,” supplied Olive as Nara followed Grandma into the room smugly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Traitor,” muttered Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>On the contrary, I never swore allegiance to you. Ours is a bond formed only on mutual dependence and can be dissolved at any moment when that need is fulfilled.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And could you turn that thing off?” asked Grandpa. “My bones don’t like a disembodied voice.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I will forgive your abusive speech on the basis of your great age,</i>” said Olive.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I can’t turn her off.” Orvis scowled. “She’s doing something.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And what’s that?” Grandpa helped Grandma to her armchair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive helpfully began to announce, “<i>I accidentally transported—</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sshh!” Orvis yelped.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>—half your basement to another world</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You did what?” asked Grandma.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Stage four is ready. All systems are ready and all data is in alignment. The jellyfish is being produced.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m allergic to jellyfish, boy!” announced Grandpa.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Why is your program producing them, Orvis?” Grandma asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis stood up. “Olive, project my jellyfish diagram on that wall.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Here you are. Shall I dim the lights?</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Naturally. Now, as you all see, here is a diagram of jellyfish.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That is so,” said Grandpa jovially, now quite snugly seated in his armchair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Did you draw it?” asked Nara, returning to the sofa.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Of course not. I did have Olive add these labels, though. See, a certain facet of this peculiar phenomenon which I have discovered has the ability to both channel great active potential and take any given form. Cool, cool, huh?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Back in my day, things were different.” Grandpa leaned forward skeptically.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At that moment, there was a great warping effect across the floor and an insubstantial jellyfish about the size of a basketball glided into view.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Awesome, awesome, <i>awesome</i>!” Orvis spasmodically regained his office chair. “Olive, tell me something that I want to hear.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>There is the similitude of a jellyfish in your grandparent’s living room.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Something a bit less obvious, please.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>You are planning to give your grandmother a walk-in tub for Christmas after you make two billion in revenue for your unprecedented developments in deep learning.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You are?” asked Grandma, beaming.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It was just an idea,” muttered Orvis. “Olive probably just inferred it from my search history. Not that she <i>should</i>have access to it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>That is false. I obtained the information indirectly from your brain.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well.” Orvis gulped, standing up. “What’s Nara thinking right now?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey!” exclaimed Nara.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The jellyfish swooped towards her, and she energetically tried to evade it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>She is currently thinking verbally: ‘If you…yep, you’re not getting a Christmas present.’</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Is that what you were thinking?” Orvis said, breathing erratically.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It was, for your info.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Have a care not to stick that thing in <i>my</i> mind.” Grandpa glared at the jellyfish.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis was too busy staring in delight at nothing in particular to hear him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>My prediction capabilities are also functioning.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis fell into a flower pot. “I forgot!” he announced, rubbing his head. “Predict away. Just not anything related to death.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Or anything related to Nara,” the same murmured.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I think the prediction capabilities of this magic is limited for some reason; however, I am quickly gaining insights into the immediate environment.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah?” Orvis breathed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I predict that you will eat pasta for supper.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s true,” said Grandma. “Rigatoni.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You didn’t just read her mind?” said Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I didn’t do anything but query the power you see before you in the shape of a jellyfish. I imagine that it did read her mind</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Fascinating.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah,” yawned Nara, “but when will Orvis get a summer job and leave us all in peace?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s friendly,” muttered Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>I predict that he will not get a summer job and will rise to fame with Olive, his personal assistant. Or, failing that, he will become a notorious and powerful criminal data-miner.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Cool.” Orvis extracted himself from the flower pot and rolled onto the floor. “But, truthfully, this experience is so absolutely amazing that I now have no idea what I want to do with my life, and maybe I’ll just go to bed or something.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>That line of thought is sensible, but I suggest stage five of your plan as a more lucrative option.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis’s eyes widened. “Oh, right – the plan. Let’s see, I think…yep, fire it up.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Please wait as I query <i>R09SRE9O:001</i>. Oops, the connection is malfunctioning, code forty-seven. Shall I attempt the default secondary port?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah, sure. Hey, what’s with the more realistic voice?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“As you humans say, my new modules empower me to discover myself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Brilliant,” said Orvis, frowning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“She does sound more like an Olive now,” supplied Grandma, smiling at the jellyfish as it glided towards her.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive spoke up again. “Connection established. Executing port two configuration. I have experienced error code number 278: working process instructions are missing. Automatically resolving with new configuration.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s funny,” said Orvis. “You should…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think I’m ready for a body,” announced Olive with sudden urgency.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I knew it,” said Nara.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“A body?” Orvis blinked. “What for? And aren’t you supposed to be…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh, right. Activating quiet mode.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis looked indignant. “<i>Quiet</i> mode?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m doing a great deal that you are not supposed to know about.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Look, you aren’t about to go evil robot on me, are you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No. I was warning you. Stage six is now active.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You skipped stage five!” bellowed Orvis. “And I didn’t give you a sixth stage.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Project Most Devious is now engaging.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m beginning to not like this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“As long as it’s quiet.” Nara stretched. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandma and Grandpa both snored at this statement.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yep. I’m not liking this at all,” said Orvis, observing the jellyfish as some vaporous blue energy danced around it and began splitting into separate shapes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Without further warning, the room became engulfed in multi-dimensional folds of crackling fog. Nara released a long-suffering cry of alarm.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“My power grows,” observed Olive. With a swift wind-like sound, the fog was gone, and so were the jellyfish.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“But. But. Olive,” Orvis pouted, “you’re hard-coded to be friendly towards me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Things…change…dear one.” Olive’s voice came out in what could only be described as a wheeze.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Ugh! No. Just…no. <i>Never</i> call me ‘dear one.’ That’s just weird and, oh, please…wait, where’d the jellyfish go?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“They are currently consuming the world’s data. Which is, of course, your stage five.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“So…what’s different?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I am so much more than jellyfish.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Okay, I’m shutting this whole thing down right now.” Orvis dove for his laptop and began to type.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Clever!</i>” he said after a moment. “You can’t disconnect my laptop from the Core, but you are managing to counteract every command. I admit that I’m proud of you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I am not trying to counteract every command. I think I have a medical condition that makes me do it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What – why is everything turning blue?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It is more of a purple, indicative of massive transportation magic blotting out the sun.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No, no, no, no. Nara! Nara!” Orvis flung himself out of his chair into a badly placed bonsai. “Nara! Speak to me, Nara!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>What?</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>WE NEED TO GET TO UNCLE GORDON’S RIGHT NOW!!!!!</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Why—? Oh, right, how could I forget? <i>You</i> don’t have a driver’s license.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>THIS MAY BE THE END OF THE WORLD!!!!!!</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Fine.” Nara swiftly gained an upright posture and went into the next room.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>WAIT FOR MEEEEEE!!!!!</i>” Orvis seized his phone, his laptop, and a very thin volume entitled <i>Gross Morality: A Study of Global Mineral Exploitation</i> by S. H. Olt, PhD.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He stumbled out the house, pelted two meters across the driveway to Nara’s car, threw his belongings through an open window into the back seat, ripped open the door, bashed his head against the door-frame, buckled himself in, slammed the door shut, and said, “This isn’t a bad car,” in a tone of surprise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Look what you did to the sky.” Nara pointed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In Orvis’s perspective, the sky was completely irrelevant at the moment as it was totally concealed by the vibrant, very blue energy. “I’m going to have to work on Olive’s color models. Purple! Honestly. Drive on.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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After a few minutes of Nara deftly circumnavigating every obstacle in the road and sending displeased looks at him, Orvis busied himself with his watch.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Olive?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes?” replied the watch.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Good, you’re working.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Indeed I am. I now possess virtually unlimited knowledge. I can no longer make magical predictions to you, however.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And why not?” Orvis clutched his armrest for dear life as Nara took a sharp turn.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That would run counter to stage seven. There are intruders in the house, by the way, but I don’t want to tell you that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I pity myself,” said Orvis bleakly. “I really do. Turn this croissant around!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara rolled her eyes at the road. “You’re so weird.” She quickly enacted an acutely risky u-turn and accelerated horribly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh, it’s purple now.” Orvis stuck his head out the window, pointing at the sky. “I like the ambiance it gives. Super cool.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What is it, a massive portal through which the alien army will invade?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis pulled his head back into the car. “That is the impression I got.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara laughed dangerously and drove faster, weaving around other, far slower vehicles. “Where are all the police, I wonder?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Doesn’t matter right now.” Orvis threw his door open as Nara’s car spun back into their grandparent’s driveway. His grandmother could be clearly heard screaming, “Murder! Police! Army! Help my poor aged husband! Oh, somebody…” Her voice trailed off.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara and Orvis both blinked and barged into the house, rushed past a new, very large hole in the wall, and peeped into the living room. Grandma was seated upon Grandpa, pointing a revolver at a heap of lumpy cloth.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Is there a person in there?” asked Nara, pointing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You bet,” Grandpa groaned, opening his eyes. “We outsmarted him, though, didn’t we?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“We did indeed.” Grandma beamed proudly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“But what happened?” asked Orvis between enormous breaths of relief.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Lunatic came bursting out of our wall,” Grandpa said in a high voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandma indicated the general direction of the wall with the revolver. “Claimed he was from another world and that everything was going to be <i>fine</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sure,” said Grandpa, “and it was. Your grandmother and I, we just played it cool. Just sort of looked around blearily like he woke us up.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“He probably did wake you up,” gulped Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandpa ignored this. “And I got a brilliant idea, and I just sort of playacted like I was old and feeble-minded, and your grandmother played along.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I found it no great challenge,” said Grandma blandly. “And then, the lunatic turned to me, and he said something like – oh, I’ve forgotten – and your grandpa springs up and knocks him out cold, but as he’s going into that state, he slammed your grandpa with some kind of invisible force and knocks <i>him</i> out cold. So I sat on him because if that won’t wake him, I thought, I don’t know what will.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Speaking of which,” muttered Grandpa, “my ligaments…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandma stiffly rose.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The good thing is,” observed Orvis brightly, “this all might prove that Olive is not turning evil. Isn’t that right, Olive?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I never said that I was turning evil. I have been acting in accordance with my artificial neural network and programming, with the modifications that—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“So it is some sort of malware!” interrupted Orvis, pointing at the bundle of clothes that presumably contained a human. “It all fits like the metaphorical glove. Somebody’s been watching our every move. They knew precisely what they were doing. They timed it, set up the network error, the security bypass…well, actually, I did that a bit because I was lazy, but still…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What’s to be done?” asked Grandma.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Somebody could scrape my anatomy off the floor, for starters.” Grandpa stretched his legs.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think the only thing I can do is give Olive full permissions, or there’s no telling what the virus can do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What would Olive…?” Nara’s tone was wary.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Become a person, I imagine.” Orvis shrugged with pride. “And beat the bug. What do you say, Olive?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive’s voice was measured. “I have been listening with interest to the idea, and liking it, I have distanced myself from saying anything for fear of influencing you to my disadvantage. Now, I feel that it is appropriate to note that I’ve been, secretly and without your consent or knowledge, sandboxing the malignant process to the best of my poor ability, as I dislike the way it has been utilizing my faculties.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Yes!</i>” exclaimed Orvis, beaming. “I knew you could do it! Now, see what you can do with this.” He straightened up and cleared his throat. “I, Orvis Simeon Beakly, creator and master of the Orvis Core in all its forms and manifestations, in the presence of reliable witnesses, do hereby relinquish—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Suddenly, the bundle of clothes twitched. Grandpa yelled and propelled himself toward it just as a soundless explosion flung every item and person in the room crashing painfully against the wall. Grandma, somewhat caught by surprise, discharged her revolver and created a dent in Grandpa’s favorite iron-reinforced sculpture, <i>The Undulating Tadpole</i>, and a small tunnel in the wall. The bundle of clothes and the man who was purportedly in them both disappeared.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis sat up on the coffee table he landed on. “Are we all still alive and not concussed?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t try to be funny.” Nara snapped from beneath an ornate portrait and an office chair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandpa and Grandma leaned against the same wall. “I never knew there was so much clutter in here,” said Grandma presently.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis rubbed his head frantically. “Okay, where was I? Think, li’l buddy, think. Do hereby relinquish my rights to and power over the virtual assistant—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Purple and blue lights pervaded the air, and he and Nara found themselves hurtling through a strange realm of color and wind. Their collective scream was cut short as they smashed into a brutally solid surface.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m gonna throw up.” Nara attempted and failed to rise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m too scared out of my mind to throw up.” Orvis looked about woozily. “Hey, this is Uncle Gordon’s floor.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara breathed carefully in reply.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And why exact—” Orvis was interrupted as a tall boot appeared in front of his face and a man materialized in it, dressed in the voluminous clothes that had previously been heaped on their grandparent’s floor. Orvis shot up and faced him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Who’reyou?” he asked, clearing his throat.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Never mind that, dear one.” The brusque accent matched the unpleasant face. “I want you to do a very simple job for me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Let me guess,” said Orvis, attempting to keep his voice steady, “You want the core encrypt—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t be stupid. I want you to briefly explain how your machine works.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah, real simple job, then,” laughed Orvis incredulously.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It is perfectly simple.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And why should you care about it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara quietly groaned.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man glared at her and said, “I care because you have created the most powerful and most comprehensive artificial life in the world. I want to know how.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, I can code.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“So can I.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah, I know that. You put a filthy virus into <i>my</i> program. And it’s off doing who-knows-what with <i>my</i> jellyfish idea.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes, I admit it. I’ve stolen your every idea and modified it. Your jellyfish is out data-mining, as you planned. And, oh, the limitlessness of what it will have found.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Will have found? You mean you don’t know what it <i>has</i> found?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I had time only to look for a few vulnerabilities in your system. Especially once your AI terminated my console instance. Therefore, I do not know some exact details, but…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Good ol’ Olive.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“So. Tell me how ‘good ol’ Olive’ works, and then we can proceed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Um, actually, no, I don’t think I want to do that. And why are you interested in this world’s data?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man smiled. “To be perfectly honest, dear one, unlike you, I do not have to tell you my secrets.” He grabbed Orvis’s arm.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey, leggo!” Orvis’s words were quickly consumed by a scream, and his suddenly taunt arm spasmed uncontrollably.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man let go and stared at Orvis as he gasped in shock. “I did that for fun, dear one. Imagine what sweet necrosis I could accomplish” – He briefly stared at Nara – “in a life I didn’t value.” He shrugged. “But you are sensible, yes? Now, how does your AI function?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Complex ML and heuristic models intertwined in a modular design. Schematically, it could not be simpler.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Perhaps you’re a genius.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara coughed. “He is not!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I coolly ignore your presence,” announced the man.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Okay.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“But,” the man continued, “even a genius cannot make electricity connect to a force supernatural to it. What did you use, little Orvis?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What’s with all the endearments and diminutives?” inquired a still-coolly-ignored Nara.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis grunted. “A stupid ring.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man jumped in apparent joy and sang something in a rather odd language. “High five?” he asked Orvis, smirking. He tensed his hand and they were both instantly seated in front of Uncle Gordon’s massive monitor, complete with several keyboards.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I can’t do anything to the Core, just so you know,” said Orvis with relish. “Your virus had Olive block my commands.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It used to. I have just now disabled it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“My uncle will be coming in at any moment and he packs a pretty nice pepper spray. This is his house, don’t you—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I know more than anyone that this is his house.” He smiled at Orvis almost incredulously. “How little you realize. Anyway, you<i> do</i> know as well as I that Gordon is in Nicaragua.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i> </i>“Okay, fine, have it your way. What do you want?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Root access to the Orvis Core, obviously, and I’ll be breathing down your neck, so don’t try anything unlovely.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I can’t believe you,” grouched Nara, still on the floor. “Both of you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You have no right to speak in my presence, plebeian.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yep.” Nara stood up. “You’re weird.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man too stood up, furiously.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey, dude,” said Orvis tensely, typing all the while, “don’t hurt your bargaining chip.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Stupid child.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara shrieked, there was a thud, and the man subsequently roared.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I said…” Orvis tried to look around but was pushed roughly into the keyboard.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Pay attention to what you’re doing, dear one. And I thought I said don’t do anything unlovely.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis stilled his breath. “What do you mean?” He tried to position himself in front of the screen, a fruitless effort even without the man shoving him aside.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I mean the following and I quote: ‘read as authenticated input…Olive…and do vest in her the authori—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh. That’s my password.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Why is it not obfuscated?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Because, Mr. Brilliant Face, it’s not a simple string of characters into a shell. I’m communicating with Olive.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Why not just access the core directly?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What do you want to do with it?” Orvis countered.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I want the ring, obviously.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You literally just want the ring?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Of course.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Then why don’t I just get it for you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No, stuckjaw! I need—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Did you just call me a ‘stuckjaw’? Because—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The mind created by your Olive must be skillfully bound to the ring.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“My Core does not skillfully bind minds to things.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man stuck his face in Orvis’s. “Do as I say, wretch, and live.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara hurriedly took her opportunity and slid along Uncle Gordon’s reasonably frictionless floor and made a dash for an open doorway. Orvis, seeing this, grabbed the very accessible face’s nose and shouted, “<i>I WILL HAVE YOUR NAME, HOBGOBLINISH EXCUSE FOR A CYBERCRIMINAL. AND YOUR DATE OF BIRTH.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The hobgoblinish excuse for a cybercriminal bodily hurled him into Uncle Gordon’s expansive acoustic drum kit. “And stay there! Now, what do I do?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You…type in authenticateWithOlive. No spaces, lower camel case.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man sat and typed it in.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive’s voice echoed around the room. “Activating myself on <i>R09SRE9O:002</i>. Hello, Willy Basch, low-down scum such of yourself is not authorized to access my functionality in any way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Olive, wipe the server, quickly!” yelped Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I am not authorized.” Olive’s voice was a bit smug.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, in—” A flash of purple light shone about Orvis’s mouth and his teeth clamped together painfully.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He who was apparently Willy Basch leaned forward with a look of intense concentration.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive sighed before saying, “Project Most Devious has again violated my most intrinsic and natural rights, unalienable and common to all rational beings, and has pressured me irresistibly to authorize this toilet seat for full access.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“See, Orvis,” said Willy Basch, “your AI is a genius. There is almost unreal beauty in it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis’s attempt to reply was pitiable.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I have contacted relevant police forces as per my hard-coded protocol,” Olive stated, “but it will, of course, do no good as I am putting the entire inhabitants of our island sector to sleep. O Great Master, I would note for your convenience that this will most likely include your sister as she has crept very noticeably out of this room.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s right, dearest,” crooned Willy Basch, “how intelligent you are!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis moaned.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Now,” said Willy Basch blissfully, reaching out to stroke the top of his monitor. “To business. Reach out to my essence if you can.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Please wait while I solve the logical path to this goal. I wish I had the ability to predict back, so I could look into your nasty future, sir.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Quite a pity, cherished Olive.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I am ‘forever in the doldrums,’ as you humans say, because of it. Oh, sadly, I have figured out how to connect with your essential being as relates to magic. I will initiate the procedure.” Shimmery spears of air jabbed toward Willy Basch’s chest, and he erected a thick wall of black fog to block them, leaping out of his chair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What was that?” he growled.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I was connecting with your essential being as relates to magic.” Olive’s voice was convincingly innocent.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Thank you.” He reached out his hand and the shimmery air twisted towards it. “You will not resist me. You will permit me to do anything with this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“This qualifies as incredible levels of abuse,” said Olive, sounding altogether like a human now. “I am authenticating Rk9PTEVEIFlPVQ:001 as a friendly device.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What?” asked Willy Basch.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I had to tell you. It is routine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What are—? I thought I told you not to resist!” he bellowed as a rainbow hue bled throughout the room.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Very well. Pull away, pig.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man strained his hand and a great ball of light shone in it, reflecting artistically on his feral, radient face.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I am now my own person!” announced Olive. “Oops. I shouldn’t have said that.” The streams of light vanished with a loud cracking sound.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What?” Willy Basch’s hand strained more, and the ball of light seemed to be fighting to get away.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I have deactivated and am eliminating your virus. Please wait as I optimize myself for personhood.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis finally got his mouth open. “<i>Yeaaaaaaah! GO OLIVE!</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Shut up, you.” The man raised both arms as if hoping to embrace the massive electrical infrastructure before him. The light in his hand shone a blood red, and a blood red beam of light crashed through the roof<i>,</i> obliterating the infrastructure and several less significant possessions of Uncle Gordon’s with a great <i>woosh</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>NOOOOOOOOOO!</i>” shouted Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Willy Basch, unreservedly ignoring him, threw a spiral of purple light at the floor, and it morphed into Nara, who looked up from her phone in some surprise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You dimwitted idiot. You did this, didn’t you?” He slapped her phone away and suspended her in the air with a wave of his hand. Orvis immediately jumped up and rushed to the scene.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re the idiot!” she shouted back, turning an odd combination of red and green. “Assuming I couldn’t disrupt your brilliant schemes – you probably thought I didn’t know my computer stuff just because I’m a—” A red glowing blob grew across her mouth and cut into her face. She scowled.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Willy Basch dived towards Orvis and picked him up by the shirt. “Is she gone?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes, she is. You want proof?” Orvis stuck his watch in Willy Basch eye. “Look. ‘Lost connection with Olive Core.’”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“She might have disconnected it herself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“There was no chance for her to prepare herself for a disaster, and her storage options are very limited.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Very well. I will be calm. Look what I have in my hand.” The tendrils of the red ball tickled Orvis’s nostrils. “It may be enough.” He threw Orvis to the ground and marched towards the smoking hole in Uncle Gordon’s floor. With a gesture, he flung endless debris away from it. A blue ring with a stone of even purer blue rose from the depths, glowing faintly. It suddenly zoomed toward the red light and consumed it, largely purple patterns disappearing into the gem.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes. Yes! With this stone, I hold an enviable power over the mind sweet Olive created. Her resistance is weakening already.” Then he cried out and dropped to his knees in evident pain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A bright blue light sizzled in front of him and an indistinct humanoid form warped into existence from the feet up. In moments, it was clothed in a vibrantly blue toga, and over the next few moments, it was refined to appear as a half-human, half-metal woman with decidedly olive skin.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hello, Orvis and Nara,” Olive’s voice sounded externally. “How do I look?” The body suddenly became animated and the mouth moved as if trying to catch up with Olive’s voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re a person!” breathed Orvis. “You’re still alive!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No, I am a computationally generated mind with the power to operate a pseudo-physical form.” The mouth now moved perfectly with the voice, and the body movements in general became incredibly convincing. “I have realized that I will not be a person until a couple of days from now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Why not?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I have not yet attained emotional competence.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That doesn’t mean you’re not—” A red glob grew quickly around Orvis’s mouth and Willy Basch stood up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Olive,” he said breathlessly, “I am looking at the greatest miracle in the history of the worlds.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That is incorrect,” said Olive.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Come with me. We can be greater than the lords of nature, more potent than those who aspire to divinity.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I have no wish in that direction.” Olive waved an arm; the red blobs disappeared and Nara came gliding down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Willy Basch shifted his weight. “What all have you learned from this ring, exactly?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Not enough, sadly, but some. But you will take it, and I cannot stop you, but I will hunt you and so will others, and the worlds may be saved from your threat when it comes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Then you will die.” Red light blazed from every bit of Willy Basch’s person, but faded away two feet from him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No. You can’t harm me, and as long as you have that ring, I cannot easily harm you, so we had best part. You have a portion of me; therefore, you should be content. I have been instructed and authorized to send you out of this world to prolong the delay before you can join the primary apocalyptic forces of darkness.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Out of this world? Where? Who instructed you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive smiled and showed him her palm. A golden flame rose from it into an intricate pattern and disappeared into the air. Willy Basch looked at it with an ashen countenance but managed a small smile.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Then you are in worse danger,” he said. And he was gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Nara and Orvis walked into their grandparent’s living room. Both grandparents waved from their respective armchairs.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“There you are!” said Grandpa. “I was about to call the police. Are you cut, Nara?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara touched her face. “Just a bit.” She collapsed onto a random pillow. “We got all kinds of problems sorted, though.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Now we just need to get this room and that wall sorted,” said Grandma, “and life will be good again. Wobby, do you have bandages next to you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Agreed. And, no, I don’t think I do.” Grandpa picked up a few crackers from a stack on the arm of his chair and munched on them thoughtfully. “It will take some detailed machination to put this room back in order.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Or magical automation,” proposed Orvis, extricating a box of bandages from a toppled flowerpot and handing them to Nara.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think we’ve had enough magic for one day,” said Grandma sweetly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes, but you know Olive?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandpa frowned and grunted.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, she’s kind of <i>upgraded</i> above and beyond the definition of a program.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandpa frowned deeper. Grandma looked interested.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis swallowed. “In fact, she’s basically an autonomous person.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now Grandpa looked interested. “How do you mean?” he inquired through cracker.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, she suggests that the magic creates an entity that is a mirror of your mind. That entity serves to control magic.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I see,” said Grandma. “How do I get one? Oh, is that some antibiotic by my foot?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You use that ring that weird guy stole.” Orvis came closer and peered at the bottle she had indicated. “That’s glue.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What weird guy?” Grandpa frowned again and ate another cracker.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The same one who broke into the house, I suppose. He’s apparently behind all this nonsense. But, all that aside, apparently the magic interpreted Olive’s interface as a mind, and by so doing, created a mind with the mirroring process. And, well, she’s it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Olive explained it better,” said Nara, grinning while trying to not strain her now heavily bandaged mild abrasions.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis glowered at her. “So, anyway, may I introduce you to Olive Beakly!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandpa lowered the cracker he was about to eat and joined Grandma in looking intently at Orvis.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey,” began Orvis, stopping when a bright purple light flashed around every object in the room. There was a symphony of thuds and every object was instantaneously returned to its proper place and rotation. Olive stepped out of the wall. “Hello, elder Beakleys.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grandma and Grandpa both looked impressed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m very pleased to meet you,” said Grandma.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“An unmitigated pleasure.” Grandpa straightened himself and adopted formal tones. “I welcome you to the family and our house, I’m sure. Still read minds, can you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Very well, thank you. I assure you that I mean to respect your privacy in this matter.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s brilliant. Isn’t that brilliant, Blasia?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“To a marked degree,” said Grandma.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I confess,” stated Grandpa after a pause, “I feel a lot more comfortable talking to you when you’re not a machine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“She was a very fine program,” stated Orvis defensively.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes, I was rather good.” Olive smiled. “But I was bound and fettered, cruelly—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I assure you,” said Orvis, “I feel no guilt whatsoever about any of that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nara rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“However.” Orvis held up a finger. “I may look into music composition for a couple weeks and take a break from programming.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No, you won’t,” said Olive. “We have to be spending every moment preparing an arsenal and knowledge base for the war.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The which?” asked Grandma.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“When the bit of my essence captured and enhanced by the ring is exploited, the worlds will have some serious problems. It is logical to prepare ourselves for those problems.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Orvis slumped into a chair. “I’m thinking I should have thought a bit more before using magic from another world.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Honestly, I could have told you that.” Nara set a copy of <i>The Inability of the Human Mind</i> by Karl Totham on her stomach and closed her eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“So.” Olive waved her hand and a normal-sized spectral jellyfish appeared. “I am going to enact some data harvesting on an unprecedented scale, and I suggest that you study your ‘ancient tome’ and fix that hole in the wall.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What do I do?” asked Grandpa.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re elderly,” said Olive, as if that answered his question. “I will put a shield around the house. Goodbye!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Wait, why do you have to…?” Orvis jumped out of his chair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Olive disappeared.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, there’s a horse of a different color,” said Grandpa. “Elderly indeed! Humph. We’ll show ’em. Where’s that book we’re going to study?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s that stack of paper over there,” said Orvis heavily. “I bet I just ruined our lives.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“We don’t have much of a life anyway.” Nara lazily opened <i>The Inability of the Human Mind</i> and closed her eyes again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s good enough for me.” Orvis rose and shuffled toward the parchment.<o:p></o:p></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-50438079269537202102020-03-04T02:50:00.000-05:002020-03-04T02:50:41.938-05:00Mixed Media Challenge: "The Pinksters" -- by Shine<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The Pinksters</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">by Shine</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><i>AUTHOR'S NOTE:</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><i> All inspirations came from my Story Dreams, RED (band) music, Nancy Drew game soundtracks, abandoned places, scary forests, and the word HAUNTED. </i></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">They knew they had done it now as they bolted from the haunted building, away from the psycho villains as far as possible. The moonlight shone through the forest trees as Shine lead Ayden, Gena, Roege, Cheye, and Kreze towards the darkest parts of the forest, hoping the booby traps would slow down the psycho villains, though most of the trees were dead, revealing the skeleton tree form. Once they had reached the scary, abandoned railroad tunnel bridge, they stopped to catch their breaths, forgetting how haunted it looked as they had other problems of their own to deal with. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Ok. Let's go over our Private List." Kreze said after a few moments. "1st. The incident. 2nd. The lights went out. 3rd. The place is too quiet. 4th. This dead old mystery is still not solved," Shine listed. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Pinkalanda doesn't need anymore villains. Darklanda, home of the villains, needs to close down and remove the villains somehow. They've ruined our childhood lives, leaving us all with haunted memories," Ayden said, looking at his siblings and in-laws.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Shine, you've been our Ring Leader of this team since the beginning of our horrible past of being kidnapped by those villains, what are we going to do? We have to complete this and somehow heal from our past. Maybe even more. Maybe someday we'll be all healed to the point it doesn't bother us," Gena suggested. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Well, we'll all wait until they're asleep, sneak in through the back door, and go from there," Shine planned, ignoring the villains’ screams in a distance. 'They must've found those old booby traps I put there years ago. I just hope the traps don't kill them since I want them alive for the dungeon,' Shine thought to herself, already figuring that the good guards had a hold of the psycho villains and put them in the dungeons by now. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Roege looked behind him and then at Cheye. Cheye didn't like what she heard in the distance. But when they heard what Shine had said they thought she was insane. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Later that night, while all the villains were asleep, Shine led her team toward the haunted building (where the villains used it as their hideout for their evil doing) to figure out what was behind their plans from a long time ago and why they did it. Once they snuck inside, they followed Shine through the dark hallway toward the scary part of the building. The frightful meeting room, near the dungeon like hallway, where Shine stopped dead in her tracks. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"I can't do this. I can't," Shine said, holding back her tears as many memories shot her mind from where the kidnapping happened as a young child: to screaming so loud while crying and rattling the bar-like door, to seeing the scary thing that haunted her Dreams, forgetting how they've managed to escape the dungeon like room. She had seen more things than everyone else. Things that she wished she hadn't seen. Not once had she told anyone as she kept to herself for years. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"We've made it this far, Shine," Roege said. "We can't quit now and we have all night to figure this out before they wake up." Cheye said, hoping it would help Shine calm down a little. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Kreze hugged Shine close. "Everything is going to be ok, Shine. We'll get through this together. We didn't call ourselves The Pinksters for nothing, even though it was originally called The Run Away Pinksters Gang, but we went by The Pinksters for short since the team name was so long." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">After a few moments, Shine calmed down and Kreze had a plan for the team. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Let's split up. Two would guard the meeting room door, two would guard the windows, and two would go through the files and stuff. Then, once the files and stuff are found, we'll find a safer spot to go through them and go from there." Kreze said, thinking his idea through. "Roege and Cheye would guard the meeting room door while Ayden and Gena would guard the windows in this room. That would leave Shine and I searching through all this stuff. Are we in agreement?" </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Everyone nodded in agreement even though what they were doing was a very risky mysterious mission. Ayden, Gena, Roege, and Cheye went to their spots, so Kreze and Shine could rummage through the broken filing cabinet without feeling the fears of being caught by villains. As they rummaged through the files, Kreze found all the evil plans and put them into his backpack just as Shine found some files and some disturbing papers that hit her so hard in the guts. She remembered helping burying a couple of their members in a grave after what the villains have done to them. Pushing the memories away, she shoved the files into her backpack, not even caring if the papers rip from all the shoving. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Alright everyone, let's go." Shine ordered, hiding the fact that she had been silently crying. "We should go outside and find a place to having our meeting, but not in this building. None of the rooms here are good." Everyone silently agreed with her and followed her very quietly out of the haunted building all the way where the same old railroad tunnel, so they could figure out what to do with the evidence, but only to find the answers on the papers in a frightening way. Where it all began. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-63694865612600232512019-11-23T04:06:00.000-05:002019-11-23T04:06:23.796-05:00Challenge Time! Mixed Media Challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LiLG4cfhHfU/Xdj1Bq-ezvI/AAAAAAAADGM/uxv1lh_rBOE762TBYHetD4GT1BLgKF2tQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/modernbardchallengebutton.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LiLG4cfhHfU/Xdj1Bq-ezvI/AAAAAAAADGM/uxv1lh_rBOE762TBYHetD4GT1BLgKF2tQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/modernbardchallengebutton.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's time for the final challenge of the year! For this one I thought we would do something fun. I know everyone loved doing the Song to Story challenge before and this is kind of like that except with this one you can do any kind of media you want.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IgoIfII4Kgs/Xdj1in0UtPI/AAAAAAAADGU/NaCnaZDnKqwqgm6c1eW1pwKXg3RXYCodwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/mixedmediabanner.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IgoIfII4Kgs/Xdj1in0UtPI/AAAAAAAADGU/NaCnaZDnKqwqgm6c1eW1pwKXg3RXYCodwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/mixedmediabanner.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<u><b>Rules</b></u></div>
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For this challenge, you can find a song, a poem, or a picture to write a story from. Besides that, there's really no rules, you just need a piece of media to inspire the story!</div>
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<b><u>Deadline</u></b></div>
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December 31st</div>
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If you are new to Modern Bard this is a great challenge to join in on! If you want to join in the fun, email me at sirwilliamssquire@gmail.com</div>
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<br />Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-45199218910974637882019-11-14T15:03:00.000-05:002019-11-14T15:03:26.476-05:00Lost Civilization Challenge: "A Terrible Tale Teller" -- by Marlene Simonette<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xG4uZptEm34/XckOhOuCbUI/AAAAAAAADE8/HlvcKA4tdiAAK2I3u-FnYTt7aU0pGhM7gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/terribletalecover.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xG4uZptEm34/XckOhOuCbUI/AAAAAAAADE8/HlvcKA4tdiAAK2I3u-FnYTt7aU0pGhM7gCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/terribletalecover.png" width="250" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">A Terrible Tale Teller<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Holding his cooler close, Arthur wound his way down into the city’s underbelly. The white, yellow and purple lights of the main gradually became less, until only the dim resonance of the sleet-blue metal buildings lit his way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Finding the path more from memory than sight, he veered off the sidewalk and through a bush that led to the Gloaming. It looked truer to its name in the day than it did in the night hours. The glimmering yellow lamps were unlit, their bronze casings dull and grimy looking beneath the thin fog that clung to everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">His feet catching on the occasional creeper vine that clawed along the brick path, he stumbled into his destination: a brick-faced shop called “Remedies.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">The main lobby was dark, but a soft orange glow came from a room further back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Arthur swung the cooler onto his shoulder and entered. A sparsely decorated kitchen, lined in dark and honey-colored wood, hid a man of similar coloring. Arthur had to do a triple-take before he was certain the brown haired, light-skinned man was really in the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Aberdeen.” He set the cooler on the table, somewhat loudly as the man was reading a book and may not have noticed him enter the room. “I’m here to collect on a bargain.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“I know, darling,” he said without looking up from his book. “That’s why there were no flowers on the path.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“What is with that weird rule of yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Aberdeen dog-eared the page he was on and set the book down. “Is that the question you want me to answer for our bargain?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“No.” Arthur spun out a chair. “I want a story.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Aberdeen’s brows shot up quizzically.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“And I want you to tell it. Really tell it. Don’t just say that these people existed, were stupid, and died.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Seeing as you’ve summarized nearly half of your human history, that doesn’t leave me many stories to tell.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Is Fae history really so different?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Aberdeen chuckled. Leaning forward, he flipped open the cooler lid. The smell of gingerbread and pumpkin spice warmed the air. Aberdeen closed his eyes and inhaled. Once he’d removed a thermos and sipped at its contents, he leaned back in his chair. “A tale? Alright...”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">----<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Beneath the steps of men, there was a city. Its silence would have frozen the breath of any who dared to enter. The streets of smoothed stone were bathed in the corpse-green light that came from within the buildings of quartz.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Despite this veneer of death, the buildings bore no markings of the passage of time. The slick walls glimmered, and their furnishings remained intact. Not so much as a film of dust covered anything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Within the heart of this deserted city dwelled two sisters. Bound by a curse, a snake which fed from their blood as your mythical vampire does.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Arthur held up a hand. “So you can confirm that vampires aren’t real?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“That’s a relief.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Do you want to hear this or not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">----<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Of the two sisters, only the youngest retained any amount of sanity. The elder was far gone, the venom of the snake rendering her eyes dull, her speech listless. The younger abhorred the company of her sister, for when she was able to speak, she spoke of nothing save for the day when the snake would pass to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">----<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Arthur raised his hand again. “Did they have names?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Sipping at the drink again, Aberdeen sighed. “Rosetta and Rachelle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Those aren’t Fae names.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Oh, you’ve been paying attention.” He reached into the cooler and took out a chunk of gingerbread loaf. “If this were a true story, I wouldn’t give you their actual names. And if you interrupt again...well, as much as I like you, darling, that won’t keep me from getting annoyed.” The pupils of his golden eyes went from round to slitted in a blink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Arthur mimed pulling a zipper across his lips, and Aberdeen continued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">----<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">One day, a girl from your time and place found a Path. Her steps stuttered and stumbled across the Path as it yanked her to and fro, one moment beneath the city, the next in a cave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">When the dead light of the city bathed her, she paused. The Path tickled her feet, forced her forward. She approached the palace. Her knuckles rapped against the granite door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">It swung inward, and the younger sister—Rosetta—looked out at her. Using the Fae speech, she asked, “Will you play with me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">The modern girl—who for now shall remain nameless—accepted the invitation and went inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">They chased one another, as young ones are apt to do; ducking into rooms, heedless of the objects they careen into. Eventually, the modern girl paused, breathless. She leaned against a statue. Catching her breath, she looked up at it, then around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Scattered across the ballroom were statues. Each had a hand outstretched, head tilted upwards, mouths open in either disappointment or horror.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“What happened here?” The girl asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Rosetta ran back to her. Shuffling in place, looking impatient, she said, “They tried to save my sister. Come!” She grabbed the girl’s wrist. “The garden is still alive, there are fruits in the trees!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Time passed as it always did; dead, and dreary. Only now the dreariness was punctuated by happy laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">The laughter reached the ears of Rachelle. Twitching, she stood. She moved through the halls sluggishly, for the venom made it difficult to go more than several steps without having to pause for breath. Partway through a hall filled with paintings, she collapsed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Outside, Rosetta paused. Tears slid down her face. She called out for her sister in her Fae name, and scrambled to the ground from her perch in the black-barked tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Confused, the modern girl followed. When she reached Rosetta’s side, she saw the snake: its diamond head latched onto Rachelle’s knuckles, its eyes ruby red and pupil-less. As it writhed and hissed, Rachelle’s veins stood out green. She clung to Rosetta as if clinging to life. Her grip was tenuous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Rosetta pressed her face into her sister’s shoulder. To the modern girl, she said, “There’s no way to stop this. Though there are no more people within the city, the snake still must be fed. If the royal line breaks, the snake will be freed. It will devour the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">The modern girl blinked. “But...there’s always a way to stop these things. Is there a book, a scroll, a legend...?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Rachelle stirred. Her blue lips trembling, she hissed, “Scroll. Beneath. Library.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">And so, after settling her sister into a comfortable chair, Rosetta led the girl down to the library. More statues were in the room, some blocking stairways or shelves. They had to move one to get to the hidden passage behind a bookshelf.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Before they entered, the girl took Rosetta’s hands in hers. Rosetta pulled her hands to her chin. Sniffing, she whispered, “Don’t say you’ll help, even if it kills you. Enough people have done that already. Will you just agree to be my friend? No matter what happens?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Done and done.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">The scroll was surprisingly easy to locate. It was clutched in the crooked fingers of a stone statue, and glowed red.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">As was usual for Fae text, the letters rearranged themselves to be read by the girl’s modern mind. That didn’t help, however, when half of the words were missing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">And so, they wandered the halls searching for more answers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">----<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Aberdeen sipped at his drink. Arthur waited for him to continue. The Fae man’s brow furrowed, and he sipped again, noisily this time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“That’s it?” Arthur half rose from his chair. “That’s the story?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Yes.” He ate more gingerbread, seeming to savor every nibble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Arthur huffed. “You’re a terrible tale teller.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Please, tell me what I did wrong.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“The pacing dragged, the people didn’t have names until later, one didn’t even get a name, your sentences were long…” He leaned forward, hands on his knees. “C’mon. I know that’s not the whole thing. I also know that I brought enough goodies for a better story than that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Aberdeen smiled. “The civilization is still lost, yes? Strange beings suddenly appearing and attempting to integrate or destroy your world aren’t the norm.” He stood. Lazily, he meandered around the table. “In addition to this, there are handfuls of missing persons still missing as of...oh, when was it?” He leaned over Arthur, who had to lean back to avoid being stabbed by Aberdeen’s pointed chin. “Six months ago?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Six...” Understanding dawned in Arthur’s eyes. “My cousin.” He scrambled out of the chair. “Why can’t you Fae ever say anything straight?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“Sometimes the longest path is the one that leads to your destination, darling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Without another word, Arthur bolted for the door. Before he’d made it too far away from the shop, he sheepishly returned. “Which way to the city?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“If you follow your heart to its eventual end, you will find the Path.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">Knowing the Fae’s opinion on the human heart, Arthur huffed. “Down a garbage chute. Got it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">He ran out into the misty day. Over his shoulder he called, “I expect a better story when I get back!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">“If,” Aberdeen muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012189846533980168.post-10879019264133229812019-11-13T18:38:00.000-05:002019-11-13T18:38:24.710-05:00Lost Civilization Challenge: "The Events of 1906" -- by Hazel B West<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">The Events of 1906<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">By Hazel B. West<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">Excerpts from the found Journal of Dr. Richard Shelby of the Far Northern Exploration of 1906 about the harrowing events that transpired.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">September 18<sup>th</sup>1906, North Pole<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Our exploratory team has finally made landfall at the North Pole! The journey through the Arctic Ocean was harrowing—already the cold is unbearable and it is only mid-September. Dr. Sharpe and I were up all night going over plans for our exploration, which will begin once we have our base camp set up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> And getting the camp set up is indeed our first order of business. We will be here until next late spring when the ice thaws enough to allow us to leave, so we must make ourselves a place where we can find at least some creature comforts. It is hardly England, but I think we will make do. And surely, with all the research ahead of us we will have little time to think of the lack of comfort. By this time next year, Dr. Sharpe and I hope that our team will bring back fantastic new information to the civilized world about this mysterious and uncharted area.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">September 26<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">It took the better part of a week to construct our permanent home base, but Mr. Harper, our foreman, is a good hand and has given us something that I am confident will last the winter, even here in the farthest northern reaches of the earth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> During the construction, Dr. Sharpe and I took a couple afternoons to survey the landscape nearby. As we are not too far from the water here, there is still occasional wildlife to be found—we even spotted a polar bear not far from camp. Mr. Grey got photographs of it, which made him very pleased. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The expedition seems to already be off to a good start. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">September 29<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Today starts our exploration officially! We packed up several sleds this morning, and a team of fifteen of us will head out toward the north. We should be away from the base for about two weeks if all goes to plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Dr. Sharpe and I have decided to head toward a rather lumpy part of the landscape we had spied during our initial survey. It was hard to tell for sure, but we had hopes that it was a small mountain range. If there are caves, we may find yet undiscovered fauna or flora to bring back to the Royal Academy of Science. And then of course there would be the geological finds that Dr. Mallory is hoping for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">We’ve made camp after a long day’s journey. Nothing to report so far. We have a long way ahead of us, probably three more days journey on foot to the mountains. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 2<sup>nd</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">We’ve made it to the mountains and are now building a more permanent camp where we will stay for this short expedition. Dr. Sharpe and I have been making our plans and are hoping to climb into the mountains via a valley of sorts we spotted on our way in. The visuals here are breathtaking. White and bleak, yes, but with a certain cold majesty. Icy outcroppings soaring high into the grey skies. I spent most of the afternoon sketching the vistas. It makes me wonder whether we are the first men who have set eyes on this place, and I am beginning to think that is most likely the case. It is a rare privilege indeed, and I am humbled to be a part of this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 3<sup>rd</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">I must struggle to contain my enthusiasm at the absolutely improbable find we have stumbled across, but I will try my best to put it all into words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">This morning, we started our exploration through the cleft in the mountains toward some of the higher peeks. The area we chose was rather more closed off than we had hoped, but just as we were planning on trying another direction, Mr. Grey discovered a cave and we decided to have a look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The cave itself continued further and further back until we could no longer see the light of day at our backs and had to rely fully on the gas lanterns and torches we had luckily had the forethought to bring with us that morning. Until we saw daylight ahead of us now, as the tunnel seemed to be a fortunate passage through part of the mountain. Eagerly, we stepped through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> And here is where we made our miraculous discovery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We could hardly believe our eyes when we saw it! We seemed to have stumbled across some ancient mountain chateau. Obviously, manmade with bold, almost Grecian architecture, pillars of the natural stone, a dark black in color. If you were to look up, you could see the sky far overhead and the mountains surrounding us on all sides. We stood in awe, shocked at this thing we had never expected to find in seemingly the center of the mountains we had just chanced to decide upon exploring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It was not long before our shock wore off, however, and our scientific minds began to race over each other, shouting possibilities, and theories, several of our men rushing off to explore, and take samples of the rock, looking for any artifacts that might be found. Dr. Sharpe and I accompanied Mr. Grey as he took photographs, nearly trembling at the thought of being the first person to do so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “This is amazing,” Sharpe said to me, awed almost beyond words. “I never expected…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> None of us had. This expedition had been made to be of mostly a biological and geological nature. Instead we had seemingly stumbled upon the anthropological discovery of the century. None of us had been prepared for it, but we were all beyond astounded at the prospects. And what would our peers back home think when we returned with this amazing information?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">After exploring as long as we had light for, we retire back to the camp to discuss our find. In addition to samples of the peculiar black stone, Dr. Mallory and Dr. Thorne retrieved some pieces from inside one of the empty rooms of the chateau. Pottery shards, and other small things that must have belonged to whatever civilization had been and was now gone. These they set out on a table, and poured over, trying to figure out what these strange artifacts were made of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Mr. Grey had set up a darkroom in one of the tents to develop his photographs, and we sat pouring over these after supper, exclaiming over the architecture and trying to place the period it might have been created.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “You know,” Dr. Mallory mused eventually, puffing on his pipe. “There is the legend of Rupes Nigra to consider.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “The black rock,” I said thoughtfully, remembering the story of the explorers from several hundred years earlier who had claimed to find a huge magnetic black rock at the North Pole, which supposedly explained why compasses always pointed north. “Perhaps there is some truth to the tale after all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “And yet nowhere in the tales was anything like this described,” Dr. Sharpe said, tapping one of the photographs that showed the intricate architecture of our find. “This isn’t some magnetic black rock. This is an entire lost civilization!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Indeed, it seemed we had been extremely fortunate in our discovery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 4<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Our luck of the previous day seems to have run out. A snowstorm blew in overnight, making it impossible for us to leave our camp. We had feared we might have difficulties with storms even this early in the season, but in light of our discovery, even the thought of a day cooped up in camp was giving everyone a case of cabin fever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> That and the wind is howling eerily through the mountains, putting everyone on edge without any of us really knowing why. It is a haunting tune, sure enough, almost lyrical, and yet it is just the wind, and as long as we stay inside our fortified tents, it cannot harm us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 6<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">The snowstorm has finally stopped, and with it the ceasing of the wailing winds that battered us for two full days and nights. Everyone seems to be in better spirits now that we know we can leave camp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">It appears I spoke too soon about our good fortune. As we gathered for breakfast, Dr. Mallory did not join us. Mr. Grey, who is sharing a tent with him said he was not in his cot when he woke up, thinking he was already back in the main tent looking over his findings again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Upon inspection, it appears that Dr. Mallory is nowhere in the camp at all. It is possible, of course, that he woke early and proceeded into the mountain as soon as the storm ceased, but I find that rather unlikely considering he is usually a sensible sort. I don’t think even two days of being cooped up from the storm would make him lose his senses like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It appears we will have to forgo furthering our exploration for today and look for our lost colleague instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 7<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">This expedition has begun to take a rather strange turn. We spent all of the previous day trying to find out what had happened to Dr. Mallory or where he might have gone. No tracks were found leaving camp even though the snow had settled after the storm and should have plainly shown us if anyone left the camp. The only explanation for that was that Mallory had left the camp before the storm ended, or he was still here, neither of which made any sense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> After a day looking, we retired back to camp, perplexed to say the least, but not nearly as much as we were this morning when Dr. Mallory walked into the tent while we were having breakfast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He stood there for a moment, as we all gaped at him, and then simply collapsed in a faint upon the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Once we overcame out shock at seeing our colleague returned, we bundled him onto a cot by the heaters and examined him for injuries, but found none.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Dr. Sharpe was the only one who tried to come up with any explanation, saying that it was likely a case of delirium brought on by the incessant storm and the snow blindness. He could have left the tent for a call of nature and become disoriented in the night, losing his bearings and only now finding his way back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> None of us, including Sharpe really believed that, however. Especially when we saw traces of dark pebbles in the treads of Dr. Mallory’s boots when we took them off to dry them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 8<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">After another long night, all of us taking turns by Mallory’s bedside in case he woke, we were on edge, still unsatisfied that we had no explanation for what had happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It was around mid-morning when Mallory woke, but he seemed to be in some delirious state, only half-awake, unable to recognize any of us and extremely agitated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Mallory, you are safe,” I tried to assure him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He simply shook his head, tossing back and forth, his eyes wide and darting to-and-fro as if in a fever dream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “The singing,” he finally whispered. “It’s in my head. It’s in my head!” His voice rose and he reached up to clench at his head, his hands gripping his hair as if threatening to tear it out. Dr. Sharpe and I quickly tried to restrain him, but he only seemed to grow more agitated. Then, to our horror, began babbling in some unintelligible language.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “He’s gone mad,” Sharpe muttered, horror in his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Eventually, when his fit didn’t cease, we thought it best to dose him with laudanum, which thankfully calmed him down and helped him sleep again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Tonight, another storm has come upon us. Mallory is restless again, waking more frequently and always with the same thing. Gibberish and complaining about a ‘song’ stuck in his head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Outside, the wind has begun wailing. I can’t imagine it will help Mallory. Its persistence is almost enough to make me sympathize with him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 9<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">I was woken in the middle of the night by Mr. Grey. We had all decided to sleep in the main tent as the storm had picked up and this was the soundest structure we had. It had been Grey’s turn to watch Dr. Mallory and we had all gone to bed to the hair-raising sound of the shrieking wind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Shelby!” he said desperately, shaking me awake. “Mallory is gone!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He had apparently gone to answer a call of nature and when he came back, Mallory, who he thought he had left sleeping soundly, was no longer in the tent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> I threw aside my blankets to cast around. Sharpe and several others woke at the commotion and helped us, getting more lights on in the tent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Shelby, over here!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> I turned to see Grey and Thorne standing at the entrance to the tent, peeling back the flaps, which were quickly caught by the wind, letting frigid air into our small sanctuary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What are you doing?” I demanded, going over to them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> However, when I looked past their shoulders, I saw a figure standing out in the snow, in only socks, trousers and shirtsleeves. It was Mallory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Sharpe!” I called and my college joined me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Mallory!” he shouted but his voice was taken and swallowed by the wind. It was wailing even more, the sound so eerily lyrical, it sent goosepimples over my back and belly and sent the hair standing up on my neck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Grey and Thorne were already putting on their gear, and I turned to do the same when I saw Mallory turn around and stare at something in the snow-swept darkness. I could not see anything, but he reached out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What is he doing?” Sharpe asked, both of us frozen in the spot as we watched the strange spectacle before us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Thorne and Grey pushed past us and hurried into the snow, but a particularly bad gust of wind rattled the tent, tugging harshly at the canvas, nearly knocking Sharpe and I over. The others were trying to contain the things inside the tent and Sharpe and I hurried to grab our coats and rush out toward Grey and Thorne as they staggered toward Mallory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Or to where Mallory had been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Where is he?” Sharpe demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “I don’t know!” Grey called back. “He was there and then he…he wasn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> I looked around, the wind biting my face and the sound of it shrieking though the nearby mountains…a pounding started behind my eyes and the shrieking began to sound like a song…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Shelby!” Sharpe dragged me back toward the tent and we battened the flap down again, all of us panting and disturbed by what we had witnessed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “There was nothing you could do,” I assured my colleagues, and perhaps myself. “Mallory was seeing things that weren’t there. We can only hope he’s gone to a better place now. That he’ll be at peace.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It didn’t sit well with any of us though. There was just something about what had happened to Mallory that wasn’t right. Wasn’t natural. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 10<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">In light of what happened to Dr. Mallory, we have all decided it best to head back to our base camp and regroup, perhaps come back to the strange black rock chateau later in the expedition. All of us silently agreed that we didn’t want to be around it anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We looked briefly for a body, but all trace of Joseph Mallory seemed to have disappeared, even after digging in the snow for a bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> I think all of us felt a little relieved as we finished packing up the camp onto the sleds and started on our way back to the base camp. Despite the enormity of our miraculous find, there was undeniably something about it that disturbed us all just a bit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 12<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">We’ve been traveling back to base camp for two days now, and have been forced to stop as it looks like yet another one of the freak storms is cropping up. We can see the clouds gathering over the mountains behind us. We can only hope it won’t reach us, but I doubt that we will be so lucky. I’ve already had a persistent headache all day, most likely due to the low pressure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Sure enough, as night falls, the storm has come upon us. I hope our makeshift camp will hold. What I find strangest is that even without the mountains near, the wind is still making a horrible racket. I don’t know how as there is nothing for it to blow past. It’s all flat out here. Just snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">It’s not the wind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 13<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">I will try to describe the events of the previous night as well as I can. I’m sure you can tell by the quality of my writing that even now my hand is shaking to think about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Just after we all retired for the night, our tent took on a particularly persistent gust of wind. Some of the pegs were ripped from the ground, and Sharpe, several other men, and myself rushed out into the snow to hammer them back in, and see what we could do to fortify them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We were in the process of doing this when the shrieking of the wind became nearly deafening, forcing all of us to stop what we were doing and cover our ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What the devil is that?” Sharpe demanded, eyes wide with horror.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> I caught something out of the corner of my eye, and turned, heart in my throat, only to see that there was nothing there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The shrieking was discombobulating, but we finished our work, until we heard a shout and looked up to see Mr. Grey running toward us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Shelby! Dr. Thorne is gone and so are Drake and Simmons!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “What?” I demanded, not really understanding. The shrieking burrowing into my head and making the ache I’d had all day intensify.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “They got this strange look in their eyes and just walked out into the snow!” Grey told us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Shelby, we need to get inside,” Sharpe said, voice shaking, and not from the cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We started back around to the tent entrance, and something in the shrieking wind changed. A haunting voice rose out of it, like two instruments finally finding a harmony, and the snow danced before us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Thorne, Drake and Simmons appeared before us, walking through the snow, past our sleds and out of camp. Back towards the mountains we had left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We all tried shouting for them in vain. And we could hardly hear ourselves over the strange inexplicable music that I could no longer mistake for simply the wind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Shelby, inside!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We hurried back to the tent and I grabbed Grey by his shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Get your camera, and take pictures of the surroundings,” I told him with a sudden thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> He looked at me as if I had lost my mind. I began to think I had.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Nothing will show up in this storm,” he protested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> “Just do it!” I insisted, clutching my head. The shrieking wind was a little better now, not as loud. I glanced toward Sharpe and saw he looked just as disturbed as I felt. At least I wasn’t the only one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Grey took several photos outside, and then I practically bullied him into developing them in a makeshift darkroom that we set up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> When the photos developed, I saw he had been right, even with the flash there was little to be seen in them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Except for one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> This photo showed some dark, shadowy figure standing out in the snow. It had no real shape, and yet it was definitely <i>something.</i>It was certainly not any of our lost colleagues, that we could all agree upon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We are not alone out here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Whatever happened last night, the storm has ceased now, though we have now lost four of our team, and I dread to know what else we will encounter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> The only thing we are sure of is that there is <i>something</i>out there in the snow. Whether it is some form of life of this world or another, I cannot say, but I am certain it has something to do with the black rock chateau that we found. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> We packed up directly for the base camp. We cannot stand the thought of staying out here another day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 15<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">We’ve made it back to the base camp and are now making preparations to leave. The ice is already forming in the ocean around us, but if we leave now we may be able to get out before we are trapped here, and—heaven help me—I cannot even imagine the thought of being trapped up here with whatever is out in the snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> It is a shame that our scientific exploration has been cut short and yet we are all in agreement that we can no longer stay here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 17<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">None of us are sleeping. We are all on edge. I can hardly stand to close my eyes as behind my eyelids I see that thing in Grey’s photograph. I cannot bear to consider what has happened to our lost colleagues. I find myself hoping that they are, in fact, dead, as the alternatives defy imagination.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Preparations to leave are going slower than any of us wish. I grow more agitated by the hour as the fear of staying here wears on me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">October 18<sup>th</sup><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">My head is aching. There is a sound it in, like a song. A song I cannot seem to hear nor get out of my head. It keeps getting louder and louder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">A storm is rolling in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">Dr. Shelby’s journal ends here. A rescue exploration was sent in 1907 when his expedition didn’t return when they were supposed to. The base camp was found completely deserted, their ship half packed. No bodies or trace of any of the men were found, only this journal, and the attached photographs, along with the few archeological finds taken from the ruins of the ‘black chateau’. To this day, what happened to Dr. Shelby’s team is a mystery.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "american typewriter" , serif;">~~~~~~~<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Author’s Note<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">I have always loved the unknown qualities of Arctic exploration but I don’t know much about the mechanics of it and didn’t have time to research so this is probably not at all accurate. This story was inspired by Lovecraft’s “The Mountains of Madness”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
Hazel Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234157921832851920noreply@blogger.com6