Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 10 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The djin had worked free of the ropes as Macreedy and Ellean, held hands, got distracted with each other, and forgot all about holding up their magic around the djin. Glen shook his head. Inevitable, he thought, and he left that place one more time to let a woman from the deep, deep past take his place. That curious armor, like the fairy weave Pumpkin wore, adjusted automatically to this new shape and size.

The woman frowned at the elves who felt terribly ashamed. She continued that frown as she looked around. The dwarfs all doffed their hats and fell to their knees beside the elves and Ignatius found a few fearful tears as he joined them. Even Prickles did not hesitate to go to his knees and Sandra wondered what was going on. When Sandra turned her head, she saw her own mother on her knees, and a big Pumpkin beside her with her head lowered to the dirt. Sandra felt it, too, but wondered what it was all about. This woman looked beautiful, more beautiful than any human being had the right to be, being tall and deeply tanned, with hair as black as midnight, and eyes as bright and blue as the brightest mid-day sky, and to be sure, the effect of all that beauty felt inhuman so when the woman smiled at her, Sandra almost fainted for love, but then Sandra had seen so many inhuman things in the last two days, this just seemed like the icing on the cake.

 “Who are you?” Sandra asked, and she revised her thinking. This woman was both the icing and the cake, and all the rest just added together to make the cake plate.

“Danna.” The woman said, in a voice that matched her looks, and Sandra trembled as the woman reached out and took her hand, a trembling, awesome fear that gripped her, like one might feel in the presence of something holy.

“Are you an angel?” Sandra had to ask.

“Heavens, no.” The woman answered with the slightest hint of a laugh in her voice that felt so contagious even in passing, any number of those on their knees had to suppress their own laughter. “But dearest Sandra.” Danna looked sad as she drew the woman up to walk beside her. “You and Glen cannot be. He is responsible for all of these little ones as you have seen, and as long as you have fairy blood in you, he cannot be with you in that way. I am so sorry.”

“No?” Sandra looked sad enough to drop a tear at that thought. “But I was thinking…” She did not finish the sentence.

“No, love, and I feel just as sad for him as for you. He loves you more than you know, but in a small way, he cannot help it because of your blood. Even I cannot say exactly what is real and what is because of your blood, though I will say this, that much of it was real in the way a man really loves a woman.” With that, Sandra did drop her eyes and cry while Danna finished speaking. “If you were the tenth generation, that would not be a problem. Even in the ninth generation, something might be worked out, but sooner than that, it is impossible. The duty of being god of the elves, light and dark, and all the dwarfs that live in-between makes it impossible. I am sorry.”

“God?” Sandra looked up.

“Never over people.” Danna smiled again, and with her eyes on that beatific sight, Sandra felt better—she felt warm and loved in a way she never imagined before, and it came as a revelation. “Meanwhile.” Danna turned stern and looked at the three goblin statues that were just outside a strange and fuzzy looking bit of air. Sandra thought it looked a bit like the haze that rose from hot pavement on a summer day, but as Danna reached out and touched that place, the view of the cave and its goblin inhabitants became crystal clear. Sandra clutched at Danna’s arm, but Danna just kept smiling. The goblins doffed their hats with abandon and Cormac, who stood at the rear because he could look over the other heads, thought briefly about turning and running for his life.

“Goblins go home.” Danna said, and as she touched each of the statues, they came back to life and doffed their hats as well as they backed into the dark and began to back down the tunnel. “And Cormac, no more people.” Danna raised her voice a little. “I mean it.” With that, she turned Sandra back toward the others. “Dwarfs go home.” She said right away. “And thank you for all your help.”

The dwarfs smiled at the idea of being thanked. They raised their hats and said things like, “You’re welcome, don’t mention it, glad to do it, and think nothing of it.”

“I guess I’ll be off, too, then.” Ignatius said, and he started to walk away, until he found his feet stilled, like his soles were glued to the ground.

“Stay, hobgoblin, and you too, Prickles. I will be taking you with me.” Danna turned Sandra toward the other women. “Mona.” Danna called Sandra’s mother by name. “You must take Sandra and Melissa home. After a time, the memory of all this will fade for you. I am sorry, but even with your blood, some things are better not known.”

“No, please.” Sandra started to say, but Pumpkin interrupted.

“But Great Lady. I have only just found them, and I have been away for such a long time.”

Danna looked down on the little one, though the fairy knelt currently in her big form, and in that moment of silence, three faces appeared to plead, and Melissa appeared to be cute. “Very well.” Danna said at last. “You may visit from time to time, but only briefly. No more than three days at once. And no one after Mellissa since she is now the eighth.”

“Yes Lady. Thank you, Lady.”

“Only not today.” Danna added. “Today I need you.” She tapped her shoulder and instantly, Pumpkin got little and flew to Danna’s shoulder where she sat and took hold of Danna’s hair. With that, Danna let go of Sandra’s arm and returned the young woman to her mother and daughter. She caused the stroller to come up and be straightened and fixed in every way, and all with the merest thought.

“And now.” Danna turned toward the ropes, and they vanished while she raised her head and raised her voice. “Djin.” She only said the word, and the djin, wherever it may have gone in the world, or any other world, vanished from that place and with a slight sound of thunder and a flash of light, she appeared in the place where the ropes had been and she looked very, very afraid. This happened, not like calling the Hobgoblin to appear because that came naturally and easily enough for even non-magical Glen to do. This happened as an exercise of power, incalculable power to be sure.

“Goddess.” The djin fell to her knees and began to sob great tears. She had gotten used to tormenting and torturing humans. She survived off the fear and pain they felt, but though she could dish it out, clearly, she could not stand it.

“Why are you here?” Danna asked, and she continued without waiting for an answer. “You should have gone over to the other side with your brothers and sisters of the djin.”

“Many have gone, but some have not. I am not alone. O please, goddess, I do not want to die.” The option of not speaking or giving a less than truthful answer was not available.

“And if the man had lived and I had not intervened?”

 The djin drooled. “After he finished having his way with these mortals, I would have had his soul, and it would have been, delicious.”

“And why should I not send you over to the other side?” Danna asked.

The djin shook her head and looked down. “No, please, please. I cannot help being what I am. But I could serve you, I could.”

“I should trust you?”

The djin looked up with a speck of hope. “Goddess. I keep my bargains. I do. Many do not, even among your little people, but I keep my bargains. I made a bargain with that mortal fool, and I kept it, to the letter, I did.”

Danna frowned again. “Not to the letter,” she said. “But point taken.” She stooped down and picked up a rock the size of her hand. “You will be bound.”

“Goddess, no. Not to a rock. Not one rock among millions, I may be lost forever, please.”

“That is a risk you would do well to remember,” Danna said. “And here are your instructions. You must guard the gate. You may not so much as touch the others who guard the place, nor interfere with them in any way. You may not interfere with those who are welcomed or invited, but those who do not belong, you may frighten to your heart’s content, keeping in mind that humans must never know that this is the work of a djin.” With that, Danna raised her hand and the djin cried out as she became compressed, like a mere image of a person being turned into something like smoke, and she got sucked into the stone, which glowed for a second before the light went out and it became one stone among millions.

Danna sent her armor and weapons to wherever they were kept and clothed herself in fairy weave, which she shaped into something like a Laura Ashley dress, though with white socks and running shoes on her feet. It was all the rage in those days.

“And how do I look?” Danna asked the others as she slipped the rock into the soft, oversized purse that hung at her side.

“Stunning.” “Beautiful.” “Gorgeous.” The others said, but Sandra had another thought.

“Still too lovely to be human,” she said. Danna nodded. She could not help it. She was a true goddess of old, but she could always make a glamour to tone it down a bit if needed.

With a simple wave of her hand, the old man’s body disappeared. She sent the body back to China where there would be some local consternation over exactly what happened, but the man would be buried with his family. Then she turned again to Sandra and her family with this last word.

“Many years ago, Glen got touched by the goddess of memory. He did not know anything about the little ones when you met him as I think you know. He knew neither the little ones, nor his place among them, and he did not know that he had lived before, and so many times before.” Danna paused to be sure her words penetrated.

“Now, Sandra, there is something else I have to do, and it is long overdue, but first I must tell you. If your memory of all this fades apart from your memory of Pumpkin, his will likely vanish altogether. I must ask you. Please do not speak of these events if you see him again, and please do not speak of me at all.”

With that, Danna, Ignatius, Macreedy, Ellean, Prickles, Pumpkin and the stone of the djin all vanished, and two women and a baby in a stroller were all that were left in that place, like any ordinary mother, daughter and granddaughter out in the university woods taking a late afternoon stroll.

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 9 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Glen put the knife away having thought through another option.

“Who are you?” the hag asked. She looked a little sickly, but even as she asked, Glen left that time and place and got replaced by a man who could only be described as a cowboy, with the chaps and hat, and a six-shooter at his side; and he had a rope in his hands, tied in a lasso. Sandra and her mother shrieked in surprise. Macreedy and Ellean went to one knee, and after a thought, Ignatius joined them. Pumpkin began to cry in her cage. Mellissa applauded.

“My name is Miguel Enrique Casidy, Federal Marshal; or as my wife used to call me, Michael Henry the Texican.” He turned to Sandra and tipped his hat. “Ma’am.” He began to twirl his rope.

The djinn’s eyes got big, much bigger than ordinary human eyes, and she elicited shrieks from Sandra and her mother as well as the man beside her, when she began to rise-up into the air. Fortunately, since she was under a tree, she could not move very fast at first, and that gave Marshal Casidy enough time to lasso her by the ankles. He tugged sharply on the rope and brought the djin to the ground very roughly, and then he leapt, and like a true rodeo champion, he had the djin dog tied in the blink of an eye. The djin tried to bite him, but he slapped her face, hard. The djin also tried to go invisible along with several other ideas, but between the magic invested in the rope, and the fact that Macreedy and Ellean were holding hands and focusing their magic against the djin, the djin became powerless. Macreedy or Ellean alone would have been no match for the magic of this djin, any more than Pumpkin had been a match, but by holding hands, in some way they were able to combine their strengths, and increase the power of their natural magic, and it was enough.

Casidy stood and fingered his six-shooter. “And now, sir, I believe you are under arrest.”

The man did not buy it all. He knew what he wanted, and he had learned how to get what he wanted. He waved, and a dozen men came out from behind the trees and bushes. “No one is going anywhere until I have got what I want.”

“Is murder really what you want?” Casidy asked. He eyed the dozen men, still fingered his six-shooter, but considered his options. Nine of those men had guns, but there was one man that stepped to the front dressed as a traditional ninja. He stood complete with sword and no doubt a number of hidden weapons. Despite the guns, Casidy knew the ninja was far more dangerous. He decided a change was in order, and with a turn of his head and another tip of his hat to the ladies, he vanished; to be replaced by an honest to goodness geisha.

She came dressed in a traditional long geisha outfit. Her hair looked neatly put up and tied with sticks and pins, but what gave away the fact that she was geisha was the white face paint, the intensely red lips, and the way she held her unopened fan. She spoke in Japanese, and while some of her verbs and phrases sounded ancient, they were understandable, much like it might have been if someone spoke a kind of King James English in the present day.

“Samurai, give account of yourself. Since when does your honor allow you to enter the employ of one who deals in drugs, murder and betrayal?”

“Who are you?” The ninja asked.

“I am Tara No Hideko, the teacher of your teachers and the master of your masters. I made you in the days of the great wars, when the Shogun first came to power. I made you to protect my sister, and you failed.” The man did not look convinced. He let three stars loose from his sleeve. Hideko merely waved her fan without opening it. Everyone heard the click-click-click, and the stars were gone.

“Very sloppy.” Hideko scolded. “If you were mine to discipline, I would have you beaten for sloppiness.” She opened her fan to show the stars, each caught in a different place in the rice paper and bamboo, caught but not seriously damaging the fan, which was a bit of a surprise to think that the rice paper fan had not been torn to shreds. “You must always go for the soft places, the neck and the belly. Bones can stop the stars as easily as this fan. She flicked her wrist, and the stars shot right back at the man and caught him in both thighs, though not too deep, and the third star came very close, but shot between his legs. “You would do well to remember the lesson,” Hideko said, and she turned back to the old man beside her. He seethed in his anger, though he had taken another step back so there were now a couple of yards between them.

“This is not over,” the man said, as he reached behind the tree and pulled out a great sword, Chinese in design, but ancient, looking perhaps two hundred years old. “All of you women will die in the old way as planned, even if I have to cut you all myself.”

 “Ignatius.” Hideko began, but the hobgoblin stood right beside her.

“You will not cut the women.” Ignatius said, and a number of the men with guns gasped at the full effect of that devilish face and the snake-like tongue it bore.

“Stay out of it.” Hideko finished her thought, and her dress and accoutrements all went away to be replaced by the same armor and weapons Glen wore. When Hideko pulled the sword, however, no one doubted that she knew how to use it. The ninja went face down in the dirt, but Hideko had one more thing to say before she faced the old man. Her accent when she spoke in English sounded heavy, but again the words were understandable. “You men had better run as fast as you can lest you end up haunted all of your days in prison. Do not think your guns will protect you. I also have an army to call on, and you will not like the look of it. Prickles!” Hideko shouted, but then she had to defend herself, even as she shouted, “Ameratsu, be my light!”

Prickles raced out of the cave, followed by every dwarf and three of the goblins. Of course, most of the goblins and Cormac knew better than to run into the sunlight. They had to content themselves with what they could see and hear through the fuzzy looking opening between the worlds. Sure enough, the three goblins who came into the sun turned to stone, but the dwarfs moved rapidly and the men who had unwisely chosen not to run off on sight of the hobgoblin were soon on the ground, tied up like the djin.

The fight between the swordsmen did not last long. Hideko mercifully cut the man deeply across his belly, which disarmed him and brought him to his knees, and she paused only long enough to declare that she was showing mercy before she shoved her blade into the man’s heart. As she withdrew her sword, she bowed first to the dead man. “Forgive me.” Then she bowed to the ninja, still on his face. “Forgive me.” Then she bowed to Sandra, her mother, Macreedy, Ellean, Mellissa and Pumpkin. “Forgive me.” Glen returned to hear Prickles complain.

“But I didn’t get to pound anyone.”

“Don’t worry, big guy,” Ignatius said. “I am sure with the Lord around you will have plenty of chances to do some pounding.” It took a second to penetrate, but eventually the ogre grinned at that idea.

Glen kept the armor in place, just to be safe, and he blanched a little at having to clean his sword before putting it away. Mishka was the doctor. Glen could hardly stand the sight of blood, especially the blood of someone he just killed, even if technically, his hands had not done the actual killing. He went to open Pumpkin’s cage but found that Sandra had already opened it and the women, and Mellissa were all hugging and kissing, and Pumpkin had one more surprise for the women as she abandoned her little fairy form and took on her big, full, human-sized form, so she could have real hugs and give real kisses.

By then, Breggus brought-up the trussed-up gunmen, but all Glen really had to do was threaten to have Prickles eat them if they dared to come back or ever tried to harm any of these women. That seemed effective medicine as two threw-up and three fouled themselves just looking at the beast. Glen did not add the part about having the goblins haunt their dreams, because they probably would in any case. He turned, last of all, for a word with the Samurai, now on his knees even if his knees were covered in blood.

“Hideko says you must go up Mount Fuji on your knees where you can and seek the reconciliation of the son. Suicide is not acceptable. You must make up for your wicked choices with this penance, that you make honorable choices and help people for the rest of your life. Go.” He did not have to say it twice. The man touched his head to the ground like a martial arts student might bow to his master, and he rose, walked off, and never looked back.

At last, Glen could get down to the important business. “Pumpkin!” He hollered, and the fairy immediately returned to her natural, small state and flew to face him, a little afraid of his wrath; but Glen thought Pumpkin was so dear, he could hardly keep a straight face. “I thought you were banished to Avalon for a hundred years.”

“I was, Lord. I stayed there the whole time and stayed good; I promise.” The fairy crossed her little heart and looked down as she hovered near eye level.

“Banished?” Sandra did not like the word, but Glen explained.

“That’s sort of like being banished to Disneyland,” he said. “Now.” He coughed to clear his throat and remove his smile. “Now, do you see what I told you about the consequences of your actions?”

“Yes, Lord, I see. Those were bad men.” She looked briefly at the dead man but quickly had to look away, and she shook her head, but Glen knew the fairy probably did not fully understand what all of that was about.

“You told her?” Sandra had another question.

“Casidy told her, but it was me all the same. You see, I lived a number of times in the past.”

“And the geisha?”

“Me,” Glen said.

“I see,” Sandra said, but Glen suspected that she did not really understand any more than the fairy.

“Now the djin,” Glen said, but the djin had gone.

************************

MONDAY

The djinn is gone but she will not escape. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 8 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Macreedy and Ellean kept the dwarfs moving while Sandra walked beside Glen when she could. She pushed the stroller most of the way and carried it when she needed to, but Glen never offered to help or even spoke, so Sandra kept quiet as well. Ignatius came right behind them and the ogre brought up the rear. With the silence, Sandra heard the hobgoblin mumble more than once about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

A good hour later, Sandra had too many questions to contain herself. “What is a djin?” She asked, only to see both Glen and the hobgoblin shake their heads.

“A djin is a powerful and wicked creature, and not one of our Lord’s. Our Lord cares for us sprites of the earth, and the fire, the air and the water sprites, too, but these djin are of a different order.” Macreedy spoke over his shoulder.

“All the sprites?” Sandra wondered. “That sounds like an awful lot. How can you keep track of them all?” She asked Glen, but he did not answer.

“Plenty, to be sure.” Ignatius spoke up. “But there are far more that are not his than his, and these djin range from little spirits, like us, to lesser spirits and all the way up to greater spirits, and if this one is one of the big, bad greater spirits, you will see some sparks fly, let me tell you.

“But what is a djin?” Sandra asked again, and this time Glen said a word.

“Genie.” But removing his concentration from what he thought about caused him to stumble and it took both Macreedy and the hobgoblin to catch him, to keep him from falling altogether.

“There is the opening.” Breggus came back and spoke, though Glen hardly heard him. “I said Gumblittle could find the place, but it looks kind of fuzzy.” Glen squinted, expecting fuzzy, but it looked clear as day out there, as far as he was concerned, and indeed it looked like late in the day, and the outside scene appeared to be a simple forest scene.

“Glen?” Sandra gently touched him, and seemed a little worried, judging the appearance on Glen’s face.

“I’m just remembering too much, too fast,” he explained, and tried hard to pull himself together as he spoke. “Dwarfs, I thank you. Macreedy and Ellean, you need to come to protect Sandra. Prickles, stay here! Ignatius Patterwig, you need to stick with me.”

“Me?” The hobgoblin looked reluctant to move into the light, but as Glen stumbled forward, Ignatius followed along. “What do you want from me?” he whined.

“You need to keep me safe while I go unconscious,” Glen responded, and he fell face down in the leaves and pine needles.

“Me?” Ignatius said again, but he went invisible and hovered over Glen, like a mother bird might hover over her nest.

“And here she is.” A woman’s voice rang out—a chilling voice that Sandra heard before she saw. “I am a bit surprised she made it, but I see she brought a couple of friends with her.” The woman appeared to be an old woman that might best be described as a hag, if that hag was struck in the face with an extra bucket of ugly. She waved her hand and Macreedy and Ellean lost their glamour of invisibility, but they did not lose the arrows that were strung in their bows and ready. The man beside the djin took a step back on seeing real, live elves in his face.

“Wait a minute.” Sandra looked around. “This is the university woods, not very far from where Mother and Mellissa disappeared.”

“Very good.” The hag said. “And it is only a couple of hours since you left.”

“But we were gone for two days.” Sandra protested.

“And a whole night.” The djin nodded and cackled which solidified Sandra’s impression of the djinn’s hag-like appearance. “Sadly, the tree people came out in force so nothing untoward could happen in the night.” She looked disappointed that nothing came out of the dark to tear Sandra to shreds.

“Old woman. You swore you would gather the whole family. How dare you try and send this one to Hell before I had the opportunity to do it myself.” The man beside the djin, an Asian, Chinese looking man with perhaps a taint of European blood raised his hand as if to slap the hag.

“But I did exactly as you asked.” The hag stayed his hand with the words. “They are all here as promised. All of the living in the family line are here. The fee was the first, and this is the last of them all but for her baby; but if she died on the way.” The hag shrugged. “I did not promise she might not die on the way.” She cackled again. She enjoyed the idea of Sandra’s death too much. Sandra would have stepped back in horror at that attitude, but in truth, she hardly heard the exchange as she spied her mother holding the baby, and she ran to them.

“Melissa, Mother! You’re all right, O thank God.” She caught Melissa up in her arms, squeezed, hugged, kissed the two-year-old with her lips and her tears, while Sandra’s mother hugged her daughter, and cried on her daughter’s shoulder. Macreedy stayed where he was. He kept his arrow aimed at the djin and the man, and never wavered, but Ellean ran with Sandra, and she was the one who found one more person.

“Miss Fairy, are you well?” Ellean asked, and Sandra stopped crying and hugging long enough to gasp. A real live fairy, not much more than seven inches tall, stood captive in a small cage that hung on a tree branch. The fairy shook her head, sadly, and then reached out for Sandra, of all things.

“Pumpkin.” Melissa said, pointed to the fairy, and the two-year-old smiled. She was too young to realize the danger she was in or the danger she had just gone through.

“Sandra.” Sandra’s mother made her daughter pause so the older woman could tell her daughter something first. “Sandra.” She repeated. “This is your great-great grandmother, Mrs. Pumpkin.”

Sandra went up to the cage with the wonder written clearly on her face while Ellean apologized for some mistake. “Pardon, Missus fairy,” the elf maid said. “You look very young and I am not very old.”

Pumpkin merely glanced at the elf as if to say no offense taken, but then Sandra put her finger up to the cage as she might have held her finger out for a parakeet. Pumpkin reached out between the bars, touched that finger and attempted to smile. It looked difficult. It looked like the poor fairy had been tortured, and all at once, Sandra got terribly angry.

Sandra spun around, handed Mellissa back to her mother and tromped to within a yard of the man and the old woman.

“How dare you!” She yelled. “Who do you think you are? You have no right holding us. Kidnapping is a crime. You let my family go, and I mean it. Let us go, now!”

The man laughed and the djin grinned and with a wave of her hand, the bows and arrows that Macreedy and Ellean held were ripped from their hands and came to the old woman’s feet. “You have no power here.” The hag said through her cackle.

Sandra took a step back and her expression turned from one of anger to one of incomprehension. “But why?’ she asked.

“Family honor.” The man stepped up. “To finally cleanse the stain between your family and mine.” Sandra looked at the man with questions dancing in her head, but she kept quiet as the man spoke.

“One hundred and thirty years ago, my poor family came to California in search of prosperity. As a young girl, my many-times mother married a man of European decent over the objections of the family. But this was a new world, full of hope, and they had great hopes, and had a son, my sire. Then men found gold along the rivers and the madness began. One man, a man named Marshal Casidy tried to maintain order in the chaos, but he brought with him the creatures of whispers and legend. One of these was the winged goblin now held prisoner to account for her crimes. She stole the heart of that European man and together, they ran off and had a daughter. The stain of that betrayal has never left my family name.

“Our gold was stolen, and our hope was gone. My great father brought his family back across the sea to the place of his birth in disgrace, and the strange looking son who had no father could find comfort only in the arms of prostitutes. My great-grandfather should have been a rich man, living in a California mansion, but he was born in a brothel. My grandfather was born in a ditch and died of alcohol poisoning before he was fifty. My father learned to steal and I was nourished on stolen bread.

“When the Japanese invaded my country, I became a traitor to my own people, and I became rich betraying my neighbors for a price. I made peace with the invaders, and with the money I obtained, I began to deal in drugs and built my own little army of thieves and murderers; but I always knew the shame of what I had done. The soul of my family has never known peace since that first betrayal that destroyed our hope, and I vowed revenge.” The man was angry, spitting. He could not finish his speech, so another had to prompt him.

“And what did you promise to this hag for capturing the fairy and gathering the survivors of her family?” Glen stepped into the light, and Ignatius, the hobgoblin came with him.

The man gasped on seeing the goblin and took a step back as he had when he first saw the elves, but he managed an answer.

“I promised that I would be hers for as long as we both shall live,” he said.

“And you figure after you avenge your betrayal, she will not live long.” Glen understood. “But you do not know what you have promised, for this is no ordinary old woman.”

“Ah,” the djin interrupted. Her voice carried a curious note. “I see how the mother made it through the maze of traps. She brought a warrior with her.” The hag took a half step forward, which prompted Glen to pull the long knife from behind his back. He did not dare pull the sword again. “But it is strange. I do not understand.” The hag looked as confused as she sounded curious, and it clearly seemed something of an unusual experience for her. “I cannot read this one’s mind. It is like he is invisible to me, and that must be how I did not notice him before. Still, no matter.” The hag snatched her hand and Glen’s knife vacated his hand as the bow and arrows had vacated the hands of Macreedy and Ellean, only this time, Glen smiled and stretched out his hand toward the knife. The knife did an about face in mid-air and sprang back into Glen’s grasp as if it never left.

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 7 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Everyone got surprised when Glen spoke up.

“We had a bargain,” he yelled at the hobgoblin, and let his anger have full vent to cover his fear. “You promised to lead us in the way of the baby.”

“Well.” Ignatius smiled at last revealing his teeth, not a pretty sight. “I did not exactly promise, but the mother and baby went this way, to be sure.” As Macreedy let the glow-balls slowly rise and brighten in the hope that his actions would go unnoticed, but with the intent of bringing the whole cavern into the light, the hobgoblin pointed to a previously darkened corner of the room. They saw a baby stroller.

“Melissa!” Sandra screamed and ran for the stroller. “What happened? Where is she?” She started to panic.

“That was your baby?” Cormac started thinking after all.

“Where is she, where is she?” Sandra yelled at the troll and suddenly ignored her fear of the beast.

Glen stepped toward the troll and raised his weapon. For a second, he did look like he knew what he was doing. “Answer her,” he yelled.

The troll looked neither afraid nor impressed. He snapped at the blade with his big hand, expecting that the steel would not be strong enough or sharp enough to cut deep through his thick hide. He snatched his hand back just as quick, nearly having cut his fingers off.

“Answer her,” Glen said, in a more controlled tone of voice. Actually, he froze, in shock, seeing how fast the creature was and thinking how close he came to being troll kill.

“I didn’t eat the baby.” The troll spoke with its fingers in its mouth. “The woman and her baby were too fast. They went through the wall with the Djin. Dirty, nasty creatures.” It felt unclear if he insulted the Djin or the humans, but it hardly mattered because Cormac got angry, and the emotion came on so strong, even the goblins took a step back. Before Cormac could move, however, he got interrupted by a new, booming voice in the distance.

“I’m coming.” Prickles the ogre burst into the great hall and pushed aside the goblins like so many bowling pins. “Don’t you hurt my friend,” he boomed at the troll, and he looked like he meant business. Glen backed up and relaxed. He could not have held up the sword any longer in any case.

It appeared there was going to be a battle. The troll stood two, if not three feet shorter than the ogre, but it looked as broad in the shoulders and as long in the arms, being built more like a gorilla than a man. Meanwhile, the goblins, having recovered from being dashed aside by the ogre, pressed in on Macreedy and Ellean, despite the arrows pointed in their direction. Again, before anyone could begin, they were interrupted by yet another group of voices. Glen imagined he heard the troll mutter, “Now what?”

A dozen dwarfs came out from a place where no one suspected a tunnel existed. It hid behind a big rock, and Glen guessed it was the way the Djin went with Sandra’s mother and Melissa in tow.

“There they are,” one of the dwarfs shouted. “Good work, Gumblittle.”

“Gricklethorn. We got you now. We owe you for taking our vein.” A dwarf stepped forward.

“No chance, Breggus. We won it fair and square.” A big goblin also took a step forward.

“Hey, chief! It’s Cormac.” A dwarf pointed, and the dwarfs paused and began to back up until Breggus put his hand up and pointed at something else.

“There’s tree elves down here, and it looks like human beanings.”

“Beings.”

“Yeah, them folk what lives in the other place. What are they doing here?” The dwarfs all paused and at least one scratched his head.

“Good dwarfs.” Macreedy seized the opening. “We are on a quest as of old. In the name of the treaty of lasting peace I call upon your help against these dark ones.”

“Watch it.” Gricklethorn took the dark ones comment as an insult, and his people began to draw out their weapons while Ignatius tried to fade into the background. On seeing this, the dwarfs drew their weapons as well.

“Time to fight!” Cormac slammed his good hand into the floor of the cavern and busted the rock by his feet.

Prickles shook himself free from all that he saw and partly comprehended and turned to face the troll. “I’m ready.” Ogres were not slow in the fight department.

Sandra did not know what to do or who to trust, but she found her feet backing away from the goblins and sticking close to Ellean, and she took the stroller with her. Glen, alone stood in the middle of it all, pleased that he had managed to put his sword away without cutting himself. It came to him that he really had no talent in that direction, but he did have one thing, and that was the words, thanks to the voices in his head.

“Stop! Everyone stop and wait! That’s an order!” Glen decided to trust the voices and spoke as they suggested. “There will be no fighting today,” he insisted. Cormac and Prickles looked disappointed. The dwarves and goblins and certainly Macreedy, Ellean and Ignatius looked relieved. Sandra looked curious. She wondered how Glen’s just saying so could carry so much weight, though in a way, she felt it too, and that made her even more curious.

“But…”

“Quiet!” Glen got on a roll. “Goblins go home, and Gricklethorn, just maybe I won’t tell your wife where you are.” Several of the dark elves snickered and nudged the goblin chief, but the chief dropped his jaw. Macreedy smiled. Ellean appeared to be in shock. Breggus pulled off his hat and signaled the others to do the same.

“If you don’t mind, we’ll mosey on as well, if you don’t mind.” Breggus spoke in his most mollifying voice.

“I mind. You need to guide us in the way the djin and the baby went, and all of you dwarfs need to help. You especially, Gumblittle. We need your nose.”

“Enough of this,” Cormac yelled. He was a wild one, and he reached for Glen with one big hand, but Glen surprised the troll this time with some speed of his own. He slapped the troll’s hand, hard, and the troll snatched his hand back to his side amazed that he felt it, and he felt the sting of that slap like a small child might feel the sting of a bee, no less. Indeed, it felt much like a terribly disobedient child having his hand slapped by a parent.

“Cormac!” Glen yelled and let out a little of his own anger, which was unusual enough, him being such a laid-back personality, but in this case he got angry enough to make all the little ones in the cavern take several steps back, and Sandra felt it, too. “You will stop eating people. From now on, people are off your list.” Glen turned toward the ogre. “And that goes for you, too.” He turned back to Cormac who felt something he never felt before. It was fear. “You can have your fingers back,” Glen said, as if he gave permission for them to be healed. “But if you don’t keep them off people, I swear you will lose them all. Do I make myself clear?” Cormac cowered a little. “Is that clear!”

“Yes, Lord.” Cormac said, and he looked away, and had trouble deciding which hand hurt more. He ended up putting the bloody fingers back into his mouth to give them another good soak.

“Prickles.” Glen turned.

“Yes, Lord.” Prickles looked ready, anxious for instructions. If he was not so blessedly ugly and horrifying to look at, Glen might have stared the ogre down. As it was, he first said, “God you’re ugly,” and Prickles held up his head, proudly, like he had just received the greatest compliment imaginable. Glen continued. “I suppose you had better come with us. Down here, you will just get into no end of trouble. But keep a few paces behind us, will you? You stink so bad the smell of me throwing up might be refreshing. Down here, that smell is almost unbearable.” Prickles thought he was still being complimented, but the troll made a sound that Glen knew was his version of a giggle. Clearly, the troll agreed with Glen’s assessment. Glen turned to see the goblins still there and had another thought, and this was the thing that caused a few gasps, shrieks and a couple of screams from all parts of that room.

“Ignatius Patterwig.” Glen called and pointed to the space in front of him. “Right here, right now!” Ignatius appeared out of nowhere and the hobgoblin looked confused for a minute.

“Hey! I was halfway to the forest path and I even took a couple of unnecessary turns in case I was being followed.” Ignatius spoke loudly and spun around a couple of times. “How did I end up back here?”

“Ignatius.” Glen spoke without any introduction. “You will go with us. You will stay with us until I tell you otherwise. You will attempt to live up to your father’s legacy, as I remember it.” He turned and headed for Sandra and the others. “Hobgobs are the worst middlemen in the world. Being creatures of both dark and light, even more so than the dwarfs, they delight in playing both sides against the middle for fun and profit. Sometimes I am almost sorry I created them. Shall we go?” He signaled to Breggus.

“Who are you?” Sandra asked all at once. No one answered her, least of all Glen. He just followed Breggus into the new tunnel where Breggus turned with a word of his own.

“You should know. The djin has a fairy prisoner, not just the human woman and the baby.”

“How did I know that, already?” Glen said, rhetorically, and then he fell silent.

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 6 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The stranger stepped into the light. He appeared a bit shorter than a man or an elf. Macreedy was the tallest person there. But then this person did not look like a man or an elf. He had red eyes, almost no ears at all, and little horns on his head; what could be seen of them through the thick black hair. He also had a forked tongue, like a snake, with which he presently licked his lips.

“A goblin,” Sandra said. She buried her face into Glen’s chest so she would not have to look at it.

“A hobgoblin.” Macreedy corrected her. He still fingered the hilt of his knife but he left it where it sat for the present.

“Ignatius Patterwig, son of Coriander.” The hobgoblin bowed, graciously.

“Coriander Patterwig?” Macreedy knew something.

“The same,” Ignatius said. “But since my father did not survive the uprising, I have had to find other employment.”

“Who?” Sandra asked.

Ellean answered. “The self-proclaimed king of the hobgobs.”

“Hobgoblins are an independent lot. They don’t take kindly to kings,” Glen explained for Sandra.

“Very perceptive for one made of blood and mud,” Ignatius said. “How…” He had to think of the right word. “How impossible.”

“Never mind that,” Sandra interrupted. “Can you show us the way to go?”

Ignatius paused and a smile turned up his lips—a smile that was too big to be human, though it never showed any teeth. That was fine. Sandra did not want to see the teeth. “I assume you are following the mother and the baby.”

“I’m the mother!” Sandra shouted. “That was my mother and my baby.”

“Do you know where they are?” Ellean asked. Panic started building up in Sandra’s voice, so Ellean verbalized for her.

Ignatius looked like he was about to say one thing, but when he looked again at Glen, he changed his mind. “I know which way they went,” he said.

“Show us,” Glen said.

“And for me?” The hobgoblin could not resist the bargain.

“Anything,” Sandra said, but everyone ignored her, and Macreedy interrupted her.

“Your life.” Macreedy got blunt.

“Your life.” Ellean agreed and she held her bow steady with the arrow aimed right at the hobgoblin.

“And what does the warrior say?” The hobgoblin asked.

“You will have the satisfaction of knowing you have done a good deed,” Glen said, and everyone looked at him like he had a loose screw, except Macreedy who got that suspicious look once more. “Now, show us.” Glen put some command in that voice.

“I will,” the hobgoblin said, but then he paused and wrinkled his brow. “But only because I am a sucker for a mother’s love.” He figured a way to justify his agreement. “This way,” he said, but as he began to walk, he turned his head, and a bit too much as far as Sandra was concerned. “Anything?” he asked.

“Too late,” Glen said. “The bargain is with me and made. Walk on.”

Ignatius grunted. “I don’t normally argue with weapons,” he admitted, still rationalizing his choice.

“And I am dressed like a true warrior,” Glen said, speaking a half-truth, like a true elf. Ellean looked impressed. Macreedy just smiled a bit and nodded.

The glow-balls took up their positions and the company walked for a long way, turning this way and that, but always keeping to what appeared to be a main tunnel. After a moment of hope, to think this creature might know where her mother and baby were, Sandra sank into despair. She kept it to herself, but had worry written all over her, and the spiritual creatures were sensitive to pick up on the feeling. Ellean kept reaching forward to touch Sandra on the shoulder and she kept speaking soothing words. That touch would have felt creepy to Sandra a day earlier, but now it helped.

“How far?” Glen finally asked. Ignatius did not answer immediately. He stooped down first and picked up a seed. Sandra stifled her shout. Then the hobgoblin spoke.

“Not much further,” he said, and not much further on, he stepped around a corner and disappeared. They stood in another cavern of sorts, but not as big as the first one and with only two ways to go. Macreedy ran past Glen and into the cavern. He looked all around as he spun on his heels.

“I knew we could not trust a hobgoblin,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Especially the bastard son of Coriander Patterwig.”

“Where did he go?’ Sandra started to ask but changed her mind. “Where are we?”

“No idea,” Ellean said, and Macreedy nodded in agreement.

“Well.” Glen wanted to be practical. “There are only two choices. I say we explore down one carefully and quietly to see where it takes us.”

“Not a good idea,” Macreedy said. “Let me remind you. These are the caves of Cormac.”

“I remember,” Glen said, and whether by accident or fate, he began down the left-hand corridor. Macreedy dimmed the glow-balls and set them in place where they would just show the way ahead and no more. They came to a wall, or what they thought was a wall.

“Wait.” Sandra noticed something, and it may have been because she was looking down in search of seeds. They all whispered, of course, because it did not take much to be heard underground, and it would not have been wise to speak loud in a cave in any case for fear that the roof might collapse. Here, though, Sandra sounded a bit sharp with her words. “Move the lights back. I want to have a look.” She knelt and put her eye to the wall and then the others saw that she had found a crack, or maybe a keyhole, and there appeared to be a dim light on the other side of the door, if it was a door.

Sandra put her eye to the hole and took a moment to focus and make sense of what she saw. It looked like a deer, laid out on a table, and it looked like a fire burned in a fireplace on the other side of the room. She looked at a bad angle. Since the firelight came right at her, rather than being off to the side, she only saw the deer and the table as a shadow against the light. She just figured this out and started wondering if anything might happen, when she saw a large, bony, clawed hand reach out and tear a whole leg off the deer, like a man might tear off a hunk of bread from a loaf. She held her breath as a face came into view, with a long dripping nose and a great tusk that rose-up beside the nose. It sniffed the air, and it turned toward her. Despite the fact that she should have only seen a shadow of the head, she saw two great yellow eyes stare back at her. It seemed as if those eyes were lit by some internal flame and would be seen, even in the absolute darkness of the cave. Sandra screamed. She could not help it. Without hesitation, everyone else yelled a single word. “Run!”

Glen grabbed Sandra’s hand and dragged her back to the big room where they turned to rush down the second tunnel. They all wondered how they could possibly get away from a creature that could move faster through the dark than they could possibly move by the light of the glow-balls.

“Wait.” Macreedy, out front, shouted, and held them back. “It has got out into the passageway.” He said it, just before they all heard it. They turned to run back to the big room, but that was no good, either. The goblins had arrived and blocked the last way out, which was the way they had come in. Sandra screamed, and again she could not help it. She buried her face in Glen’s chest so she would not have to look at the creatures.

Ignatius stood out in front of a dozen or more goblins who came armed with a variety of clubs, swords and spears. When the lumbering beast came up behind the four travelers, it stopped in the doorway, not afraid, but wary of so many intruders in its antechamber. Macreedy and Ellean both had their bows out and ready, and Glen pulled his sword from the sheath on his back. He found it not too heavy, so he could hold it up, but he could only hope he looked like someone who knew what he was doing. If it came to it, he honestly wondered if he could do anything with it at all. He could not remember ever having held a sword before and he felt afraid he might only cut himself or cut the wrong person by accident and make matters worse.

“Cormac.” Ignatius spoke over the group toward the lumbering beast that blocked the exit. “I bring you the goblin sacrifice as agreed. Accept these elves and humans and leave the dark elves in peace for a season.”

Cormac looked like he might bargain and maybe claim that the sacrifice was not enough, but from the way his lips began to drool, it felt hard to believe he might be thinking of anything but supper.

************************

MONDAY

Sandra and Glen may need some extra help getting past Cormac the ever-hungry troll. Until next time, Happy Reading

*

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 5 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Glen found it difficult to sleep at first, since he had such a hard time keeping his hands to himself; but then the something inside of him rose-up, and he felt he could hold this beauty after all without becoming overly excited. He slept well after that. He could not vouch for the others.

When the sun looked about ready to rise, Glen’s eyes popped open. Sandra snuggled into his shoulder, and with the little bit of new light, he looked over at the elves. He felt embarrassed. He saw Ellean snuggle up to Macreedy and Macreedy looked at her with a loving expression and tenderly brushed her long black hair behind her ear.

“Ahem.” Glen coughed softly and Macreedy looked more than slightly embarrassed. “This is a switch. It is usually the women who wake up before the lazy men.”

“Oh, we’re awake,” Ellean said, and Macreedy jumped back as if stung by a bee.

“We?” Glen asked.

“We are,” Sandra confirmed without opening her eyes. She shifted her head in Glen’s shoulder and reached for his other shoulder with her free hand. She seemed to want to snuggle some more, but Glen noticed what he had on, and though he was not exactly naked, he jumped further than Macreedy. He got out from beneath the covers altogether. All he had on was a t-shirt and boxers, though when he examined the clothes, he caught a glimpse of Fairy Weave.

“What is this?” he asked, as he sat on Sandra’s bed and covered up. He thought dark blue, and his weave turned dark blue, which seemed better than the almost translucent white it had been.

“The magic came in the night,” Ellean said. “I was surprised that it did not wake you.”

“Lord Alderon says you are to put this on.” Macreedy pointed to a suit of armor, chain on leather. It sat neatly laid out at the end of Sandra’s unused bed. There were swords and knives with the outfit, and a cape that looked reversible, with black on one side and white on the other.

“But I…” Glen considered his underwear and did not feel in a position to argue. He got into the outfit as rapidly as he could and found that it fit perfectly. It also felt very comfortable, and light, which surprised him. He had expected all that metal to weigh a hundred pounds. At last, he set his hands on the weapons. “I don’t know what to do with these,” he said. “I never killed anything bigger than a spider.”

“You need to bring them,” Macreedy said.

“I can help you put them in place,” Ellean said. “These are like the ones our god carries.”

“They are?” Glen spoke absentmindedly, because he got busy trying to figure out where they hooked on. They appeared to have rings that only needed hooks.

“Wait.” Macreedy stopped Ellean and he looked very suspicious. “Try calling to them,” he said.

“What?”

Macreedy stepped over, took the weapons, and laid them out again on the bed. “Try calling to them,” he repeated.

Glen looked at Sandra who had gotten up to watch the proceedings, but she could only shrug.

“A virtue in their making,” Macreedy suggested. “They were given to you so you should be able to call to them and they should fit themselves into place.”

“Like magic?” Sandra was not slow to catch the implication, and Macreedy nodded.

“Okay,” Glen said, but he sounded doubtful. “All-ee, all-ee in come free,” he shouted and shrugged because nothing happened. He was kidding. He tried again. “Sword, here. Knife here. Here, swordy, swordy.” Still nothing happened. He tried a poor man’s Shakespeare. “Afixeth thyself before I be off, oft.” He shrugged again. “Nothing.” Macreedy looked relieved.

Ellean began to move again to help him, but Glen held out his hand. He started getting into this. “Open sesame. Attach sesame.” He turned to loony tunes, beginning with Yosemite Sam. “Ya gal-dern galoots!” He went on for a while with nonsense words until he said something that sounded like a string of consonants with hardly any vowels at all, and the sword and knife jumped. They rushed at Glen. He covered his face. He thought maybe he angered the inanimate objects—the sharp inanimate objects, but then he heard several clicks and Sandra applauded, Ellean shouted something not at all like “golly gosh!” and Macreedy went back to looking suspicious.

“Well.” Glen looked up and smiled. “But they can stay where they are because otherwise I will probably cut my foot off.”

“Why would you cut your foot off?” Sandra asked.

“If I had a gun I would probably shoot my foot off and I figure fair is fair.” That ended the discussion about the weapons. Glen saw that both Ellean and Macreedy sported long knives at their belts and both carried bows, and that felt like more of a comfort than anything he might carry.

Sandra and Ellean found the food that had been left for their breakfast. It looked like the troops pulled out before dawn since they and their tent were all that remained in the area, and Glen looked all around. When he returned, the tent had already been reduced to a cube the size of Macreedy’s hand, which the elf slipped into his side pack. The fire still burned, though, and they had bacon and eggs cooking.

“There goes any chance of getting my clothes back, I suppose,” Glen said.

“I think you look good,” Sandra grinned.

“What, for Halloween?”

Sandra stood up to whisper in his ear. “You look sexy,” she said, and quickly scooted to the other side of Ellean.

“My birthday is the day after Halloween. I’m open to suggestions on presents,” Glen said, and Sandra turned red beneath her blond hair. Macreedy temporarily dropped his suspicious look for a confused look.

“I don’t understand the game,” he admitted, with a shake of his head.

“Human mating ritual,” Glen confessed. “You should try it sometime.” He pointed at Ellean with a shake of his head. Macreedy made no response other than to open his mouth, wide.

“Enough of that,” Sandra scolded. “Breakfast.” They ate what they could, even Glen, not normally a breakfast person; but to be sure, none of them knew when they might get another good meal.

They found the entrance to the cave close by. They did not find any seeds on the way, but they did not expect to see any. The little pile of seeds just inside the cave, where the morning light struck, and the little trail that ran away from the pile and into the dark could not have been clearer.

“Just to be certain I have this right; Melissa is two?”

“Mother?” Sandra responded, and Glen nodded as he suspected the woman had taken the seeds and left the trail.

“Still, a rather sloppy kidnapper not to notice something as obvious as this.” Glen remained skeptical.

“They may have rested here before entering the cave.” Macreedy offered an explanation. Glen did not feel so sure, but they had no choice but to go into the dark.

Macreedy pulled the three glow-balls from his pack—the ones that had been in the tent. He spoke over them, they became bright, and with a few more words, they began to float in the air, one out front, one in the middle, overhead, and one just behind the group. Sandra looked amazed to see real magic and stepped closer to Glen. Pointed ears were one thing, but the outright impossible was quite another.

“Macreedy is so talented.” Ellean praised him, and Macreedy looked like he might say, “Tut-tut” at any moment.

“Y-yes.” Sandra stuttered around the smile that she pasted on her face. Glen felt less surprised. He paid attention when Macreedy built up the fire the night before. He expected some sort of magic, and he had examined the glow-balls. With that light, though, they could move forward.

This seemed an ordinary enough cave, with an uneven floor, stalactites overhead, and Glen hoped no bats, or at least not too many. As they moved deeper into the dark and found seeds, almost by accident in several cases, it quickly got cold, and they all hugged their cloaks. Sandra had been given one and had wondered why she might need it in the warm fall air she felt in the forest. Now she understood. It got cold underground where neither the sun nor the warm air could penetrate.

After a time of clambering through and over rocks and around corners, and always going further down and deeper in, the floor beneath their feet flattened out and brought them quickly to a large chamber that looked more like the inside of a cathedral than a cave.

“Not good,” Macreedy said. He laid his hand against a stalagmite, which had the appearance more of a column than a natural occurrence. “This is a goblin hall,” he said and he pointed to some carvings on the column.

“Glen.” Sandra scooted yet closer and laid her hand on his wrist. She looked into his eyes and hoped for reassurance.

“Dark elves,” Glen said. “That is an easier word than goblins. They stay underground and work great magic in stone and metal. They are not necessarily the evil goblins of legend.”

Ellean had her bow out and an arrow ready. “But many do like to eat the flesh raw,” she said.

“Big help!” Glen put his arms around Sandra, and she did not mind that at all.

“They are not friends to the elves of the light,” Macreedy agreed with Ellean, though he left his weapons where they were and only fingered the knife at his side.

“I see three ways we can go.” Glen changed the subject.

Macreedy shook himself from his own thoughts and raised his arms. The glow-balls brightened a little, spread out and showed that there were actually five choices. “The problem is two or three of these ways will lead to the warrens—the goblin homes.” He added that last for Glen and Sandra. “Only two or three ways will lead to other places.”

“And which is which?” Ellean finished the thought, and she, Sandra and Macreedy all looked at Glen.

“No, no,” Glen said. He let go of Sandra and stepped back a full step. “I’m no seer. If there is magic in the human world, I have less of it than anyone I know.”

“Someone has to decide,” Sandra said.

“Or you could all just stay here until you starve.” An eerie sort of voice spoke out of the dark. Sandra jumped back into Glen’s arms and Ellean pulled her bow to the ready, though how she knew which direction to point was a mystery since the cavern not only looked like a cathedral, it echoed like one as well.

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 4 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

A young female head poked in through the tent door. Her face looked more human, being not nearly so skinny, but the ears were still a giveaway. The face looked unsure, though, so Glen felt obliged to speak up.

“No human cooties, I promise,” he said.

“Well.” The elf came in slowly to take a seat beside Macreedy. “As long as you promise.”

“My name is Sandra,” Sandra said. “Daughter of Mona, daughter of Edna, daughter of another woman and another and another who was a daughter of a full blood fairy.”

“Really?” The elf maid found her smile as Sandra nodded and the maid turned to Macreedy. “That may explain how they came to be here,” she said, but Macreedy shook his head.

“Let me see if I can say this the way Master Olerian of the Bean taught the lesson.” He coughed, lowered his voice and affected a very formal tone and look. “The magic is generally well faded by the third generation, and the blood indiscernible by the seventh, though the child is not considered fully human again until the tenth generation.” The elf maid giggled, and Glen decided that this young elf was a simple girl who might have passed for a sixteen or seventeen- year-old human.

“I’m the seventh generation and Melissa is the eighth,” Sandra said, and looked mostly at Glen in case she counted wrong.

“You have a baby?” The elf girl looked surprised. Macreedy still shook his head as if to say that would not explain how they came to be there.

“Ellean.” Glen interrupted and got the elf girl’s attention. He called the girl by name because his inner voice said that was the elf maiden’s name, not because she had given her name. “Just to be clear, how old are you?” Ellean lost her smile. She looked embarrassed by the question. Macreedy spoke for them both.

“I will be one hundred and ten this year,” he said proudly. “Ellean is seventy-three.”

“Only,” Ellean said and she looked down at the fire.

Sandra felt the shame and reached out to the girl. “Women mature faster,” she said.

Ellean did not take Sandra’s hand, but she did look up and smile briefly.

“That’s years,” Glen said, and Sandra looked at him in surprise. She thought something, like maybe a lunar calendar. Macreedy looked about nineteen or twenty and Ellean appeared to be sixteen or so. “Standard counting is roughly seven to one, sort of like dog years except we are the dogs.” Glen concluded, and he pulled himself a bit closer to the fire. After a moment, Sandra also scooted closer in order to close the circle.

“Old Lord Inaros is reported to be fifteen hundred years old,” Macreedy said. “But that is extremely rare, even among elf-kind.” He smiled for Sandra, but Sandra did not pay attention. Ellean kept staring at her.

“What?”

“I was wondering if your real name is Cassandra,” Ellean said.

“Her hair is too blond.” Macreedy interrupted and shook his head.

“There are dyes.” Ellean came back, but this time Sandra shook her head.

“Just Sandra,” she said. “Why?”

The elves paused to look at each other before Macreedy spoke. “Our goddess was once named Cassandra,” he said. “It is not to be spoken of with humans, but I can say this much, that we have many gods and goddesses, but they are all one.”

“I thought maybe…” Ellean began to speak, but Macreedy took her hand to quiet her.

“So, we still do not know how you came to be here,” Macreedy said. “Even if Miss Sandra managed the passage by some virtue in her blood, it does not explain the presence of this man.”

Glen reached for Sandra’s hand and she readily gave it, and her smile, too. “We are thinking of doing a lot of things together,” he said, and Sandra’s smile broadened. “How about you two?”

Macreedy shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable as he glanced at Ellean and dropped the girl’s hand. Ellean had no trouble matching Sandra’s smile. “We have talked,” she told Sandra, and she held out her hand again, but Macreedy did not take it.

“But about how you got here,” Macreedy spoke hastily to try to get back on the topic. He got interrupted by a new voice from the door.

“How they came to be here is less important than why,” the voice said. An elderly elf came in, followed by the commander of the troop that picked up Sandra and Glen. “I am Alderon and this is Commander Peregrine.”

“The Falcon.” Glen gave a sloppy salute. “But let me ask, why are you here?” Glen spoke quickly, and the old elf raised an eyebrow so Glen continued. “You have brought an army into the wilderness. I hope we have not fallen into the midst of a war.” Sandra suddenly looked concerned. She had not thought of that.

“No fear,” Alderon said. “Wars in our realm are rare events these days. Rather, we had a report of a demon djin crossing close to the border. We sought to destroy it, if we could, or at least keep it from our homes.”

“A ghoul?” Glen asked.

Alderon shook his old head. “Our observers did not see it well enough to classify it, except to say it is one of the lesser djin.”

“But a terror all the same,” Glen thought out loud and turned toward Sandra. “They can possess people and feed off the fear and pain they cause in tormenting their victims.”

“And how do you know the ways of the djin?” Macreedy asked.

“Behavioral Sciences,” Glen answered. “I have studied my Anthropology and my folklore, unless we humans have it all wrong.” Glen looked up at Alderon who smiled, just barely.

“Essentially right,” Alderon confirmed. “But now you must answer a question. Why have you come here?”

“My daughter and mother disappeared.” Sandra spoke quickly. “We were following their trail and found ourselves here. I don’t know how. None of this makes any sense, but now I fear we have lost the trail.” Glen felt the surge of emotion rise-up inside Sandra and watched as a few tears began to fall. He quickly put his arms around her and reassured her.

“We will find them. Hush. It will be all right.” He stroked her hair, gently, and she quieted. “We were following the seeds, but I don’t know if we can pick up that trail again without going back and getting tangled up with the ogre.”

Alderon waved and Commander Peregrine held out his hand. “Were they pumpkin seeds like this?” Alderon asked.

Sandra jumped up and took the elf’s hand, not thinking twice about it. The hand was full of pumpkin seeds. “Yes,” she shouted. “But where did you find them?”

“In this place,” Commander Peregrine responded. “My command was charged with following them to see where they lead, and they brought us to you.”

“So, wait.” Glen said. “You’re saying if we followed the pumpkin seed trail from the beginning, it would have brought us to this place?”

Alderon nodded, and Sandra turned. “Oh, Glen, we haven’t lost them.” She just had to fall into Glen’s arms and kiss him smack on the lips, and she kissed his cheek as well before she grabbed his arm and turned to sit beside him and pull herself together.

At the mention of Glen’s name, Commander Peregrine looked surprised, Macreedy had one eyebrow up, Ellean stayed too busy watching Sandra and thinking her own thoughts to notice, but Alderon smiled that almost invisible smile of his. “But where does the trail go from here?” Glen asked.

“Ahh…” Alderon said as he stepped up behind Macreedy and Ellean. “There are a small number of seeds heading into the caves of Cormac. We have chosen not to explore that way since it leads away from our homes.”

“The caves of Cormac?” Macreedy did not think much of those caves and Ellean looked positively frightened.

“What’s a Cormac?” Sandra drew herself as close to Glen’s side as she could get.

“An ever-hungry troll,” Macreedy said.

“And the caves are full of goblins as well, no doubt trying not to be eaten,” Commander Peregrine added.

Alderon simply looked at Glen and would not let go of that smile that touched the mere corners of his lips. “Somehow, though, I have a good feeling about your chances,” he said. “And since young Macreedy and young Ellean have agreed to see to your welfare, I know you will do well.”

“What?” Macreedy looked up sharply at his elder and tried to stand, but Alderon put a hand on the elf’s shoulder to keep him seated. Then he clapped his hands and stepped aside while two elf maids came and went, quickly. The first had two more blankets and the second carried four little packs, provisions for the expected journey.

“You planned this.” Macreedy accused his elders as Commander Peregrine set down his handful of pumpkin seeds and followed the maids out the tent door.

“Yes.” Alderon finally let out a bit more of that smile. He held up his hand and twisted it, like one might twist a dimmer switch, and the light in the glow-balls dimmed to night-lights. “Sleep well,” he said, and left.

Macreedy did not look entirely happy, but Ellean set about immediately showing their companions what they could do with the Fairy Weave blankets, changing the color, size, thickness and texture, and all with a thought.

“I don’t know why it is called Fairy Weave, though, since it is made by elves. These were made by the elves of the grove,” Macreedy said. Glen just nodded and he got the idea easily enough and made something like an air mattress with covers to sleep on. Sandra had a little more trouble with hers so Ellean helped; but by then with the thoughts and worries about the caves of Cormac getting in the way, Ellean became the only one still smiling.

“This will be so much fun,” she said. “I just know I can learn so much from you.”

Sandra stared at the elf maid in disbelief. “You’re seventy-three years old and I’m just twenty-three. How are you going to learn anything from me?”

Ellean cocked her head to the side and spoke in all seriousness. “You have a baby.” She stole a glance at Macreedy.

“But I haven’t got a husband,” Sandra said, and Ellean looked at her again with eyes that were big and brown and suddenly sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, actually he was a jerk. Melissa and I are better off without him.”

“Well.” Ellean did not know what to say until she looked over at Glen. “Glen seems very nice, what do you think?”

Sandra just looked, and since Macreedy and Glen heard everything in that small tent, they also looked. Sandra appeared to be more concerned to find out if Glen thought she was nice, and while Glen did not feel ready to answer that question, he did feel that he ought to say something.

“I think we all ought to try and get some sleep.” He got under his covers and turned his back on them all. Macreedy finished dousing the glow-balls so only the dying embers from the fire provided the light in the tent.

It did not take long before Glen relaxed. He felt certain that everyone else in the tent had fallen asleep by then. He felt a little surprised when Sandra crawled under his covers to curl up beside him. He felt more surprised when the other two spoke.

“I wish I had thought of that,” Ellean said.

“Go to sleep,” Macreedy responded.

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 3 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“I missed the last ones, but I got you.” A booming deep, unearthly voice spoke over Glen’s shoulder; the kind of voice that gave him chills, and even penetrated Sandra’s screams. Glen got to his feet, dragged Sandra to her feet with him, and backed the two of them away from that voice. The creature stood nine feet tall and was so horrible to look at, Glen’s stomach nearly let go, and Sandra could not stop screaming. Glen had to turn Sandra’s shivering face into his shoulder where she did not have to look at the thing to get her quiet. This brute, and the word ogre came to Glen’s mind, looked covered in warts that sprouted little hairs that looked more like cactus spikes than hairs. He had several boils on the surface of his skin, if it could be called skin, and a few of those were open sores that leaked a pink and yellow puss. It had a mouth so full of yellow teeth; Glen could not see the back of that maw or count the teeth if he wanted to, not the least because of the green drool that leaked out over the edge of the lower lip. The creature also had a small spark in the eyes that glared at them, as if to say that this creature was alive and aware; but to be sure, it seemed a very small spark.

“I am going to have you for an afternoon snack,” the ogre roared, and he hefted a club the size of a small tree.

Glen heard the words “don’t panic” in his mind as his mouth sprang into action, though hardly aware of what he said until he said it. “Well, if you are going to have us for tea, make sure there are plenty of biscuits, and by all means keep the kippers to yourself. Those things are almost as slimy and disgusting as you are. Gods you are an ugly beastie.”

The ogre paused and lifted his head. “Do you think so?” He spoke with some doubt in his voice.

“Oh, yes,” Glen assured him. “Very ugly. Frighteningly ugly. You heard the woman screaming, didn’t you? Now, let’s get on to tea, you lead the way.”

“Huh?” The ogre paused while Glen’s words caught up with his little brain, and he guffawed. “Have you for a snack.” He guffawed again, and that is not a sound you ever want to hear. Glen had to swallow the bile to keep it from coming out and Sandra had to bite her lower lip, hard, to keep the screams at bay. “Say, now.” The ogre stopped laughing and a terrifying looked crossed his face. “Hold still.” He lifted the club.

Glen’s eyes got wide, but he looked a little to the ogre’s left side. He pointed dramatically in that direction and yelled, “Look!” The ogre turned to look.

“What?” The ogre wondered, but by the time he turned again, Glen had grabbed Sandra’s hand and they were running as fast as they could down the path. “Hey!” They heard the yell behind them, and heard the tromp, tromp of giant footsteps, following. Glen wanted to say run faster, but he was fairly-sure they could not run faster. Sandra did not want to say anything. She focused too hard on her feet. With all that, it sounded like the ogre started gaining on them, but shortly they ran into something, or rather, another thing they hardly expected. A wall of men, all dressed in dark armor, stood in their path. The men looked like ancient soldiers, and they all had spears pointed in their direction. Glen prepared to stop, but at the last minute, the men made an opening in the wall and Glen and Sandra raced through. The opening quickly closed. Glen heard the twang of bowstrings, and while Sandra collapsed to the ground, Glen found enough strength left to jump up and holler. “Don’t hurt him.”

A second volley of arrows followed, though the ogre stopped on the first volley. Most of the arrows landed in front of the ogre as a warning for him to turn around and go back where he came from, but one of the arrows went straight into the ogre’s shoulder. The ogre looked more surprised than anything else, and while the arrow did not penetrate deeply, when it fell to the ground some blood fell. Glen knew someone did not follow orders. This time he really shouted. “I said don’t hurt him!”

The archers were off to the sides of the wall of spears, hidden in trees and behind rocks. As Glen shouted, he heard a man moan and someone, or something, sounded like it fell to the ground. Glen could not be concerned about that just then. Instead, all his concern focused on the ogre who he now felt was like a poor child in need of protection. If he had thought about it, it should have been strange to think that way about a brute that just tried to eat him, but Glen did not think. He got too busy pressing up to the back of the wall of spear-men and shouting at the horrifying beast. “Prickles, go home,” he yelled. “Go home, Prickles. You need to go home right now.” He told himself that he did not want to see anyone get hurt, and it was not hard to convince himself of that.

“Go home?” Prickles the ogre tried to figure out what he heard.

“Go home.” A man stepped up beside Glen, and while Glen did not look at the man, he figured the man was probably the commander of this troop of soldiers.

“Go home, Prickles,” Glen repeated, and the ogre nodded.

“Go home,” the ogre said. “Go home.” He turned, walked back the way he came, and his long legs took him quickly out of sight.

Then Glen breathed for all of a second before two of the spear carrying men grabbed him by the arms. “Bring them.” The man who had been standing beside Glen commanded, and they moved to where Sandra also got held against her will. Glen and Sandra were directed to fall in line, and the guards gave them no choice.

“This is getting too weird.” Sandra finally got a word out. She pointed at the men’s faces and Glen realized, for the first time, that all of the ears looked classically pointed, and these were not men at all.

“Elves,” Glen named them and Sandra shrugged as if to say that she had adjusted, that she was not surprised, and maybe she would never be surprised again.

“And the beast?”

“Ogre,” Glen said, but then they had to concentrate on the walk because they were moving up into the hills.

It took several hours to reach a camp where Glen guessed there were perhaps a hundred or more elves, all dressed for war. The sun slipped down in the sky when Glen and Sandra got escorted to a tent. They were left alone, but Glen felt sure there were guards near enough.

Sandra sat quietly and hugged her knees, which she pulled up to her chin. She seemed to be in her own little world. Glen paced and tried to make sense of what happened. It felt weird, as Sandra said. Elves and ogres were unreal, impossible, and no human being would ever believe such a tale. Glen felt stupid, like he was in the midst of something out of a children’s story, or an old wives’ tale, or a folktale where some anthropologist would point out the underlying meaning but would never believe that it might be real. Elves and ogres did not really exist. Glen told himself that several times, but here he was and here they were. He had long since rejected the idea that this might be a dream. “That would have made this B-movie extra bad,” he mumbled. Sandra took Glen’s mumble as an opening to speak.

“My grandmother.” She paused and shook her head before she started again. Glen sat down beside her, not touching, but close enough. “My grandmother used to talk about her grandmother like she was, I don’t know, strange. She said her grandmother had the magic. That is what she called it. She said her mother had some, but not like her grandmother, while she could hardly do anything at all.”

“When was your grandmother born?” Glen felt curious, but not sure why he asked that particular question. Someone, whoever it might be, seemed to be giving him thoughts. It felt like someone had gotten inside his head. Glen probably should have been frightened by the invasion of his mind, but there were two mitigating feelings. First, he felt that the someone, whoever it was, felt so comfortable. Glen could not imagine any harm coming from that direction. Second, there were far more frightening things happening all around him on the outside, he hardly had time to worry about what might be trying to help him on the inside.

“1908,” Sandra said. “She would have been seventy this year if she was still alive.” Glen nodded. It was presently 1978. After a pause, Sandra added the word, “Cancer.”

“And her grandmother?”

“I don’t know.”

“Say, 1870?”

Sandra shrugged. “Grandma said her great-grandmother was a half-blood. I remember asking once half-blood what? I got the strangest answer.” Sandra looked like she did not want to say it, but as an elf chose that moment to enter the tent with a tray of food; Sandra found the courage to verbalize what had always seemed loony. “Fairy.” She said. “My great-great, whatever-grandmother was a half-fairy.”

Glen nodded. “1849 gold rush,” he said as the elf put down the food and turned to leave. “Wait a minute.” Glen spoke up, and the elf paused. “What are you going to do with us?”

The elf turned and shrugged. He looked skinny, terminally skinny, the way certain elves were and his ears were very pronounced and pointed but they matched his pointed nose. “Nothing that I know of.” At least his voice sounded normal.

The elf decided to sit and as he crossed his long legs, he leaned forward to place a hand over the fire. It rose-up with new life. Given the circumstances, neither Sandra nor Glen were surprised by that bit of magic. Sandra scooted a bit closer to the fire for the warmth. Glen decided to take a good look around.

The fire burned in the middle of the tent floor with a small hole in the tent roof straight above it. Curiously, the smoke from the fire went straight up and out the hole without the least bit of it filtering into the rest of the tent. Neat trick, Glen thought. He noticed that most of the light in the tent did not come from the fire, but from several globes near the tent roof. Glow-balls, he called them, and he imagined they were like fairy lights. Of course, they were not plugged into anything, and they were not battery run, so he was at a loss as to what powered them. But they glowed just fine and the light felt warm and comfortable.

Their night in that tent did not look frightening, but then it did not look all that comfortable if they chose to sleep. There were only two blankets rolled up on the dirt floor, but Glen did not get to examine them closely because by then Sandra found the courage to ask a question.

“Do you have a name?”

“Macreedy, son of Macreedy, son of Macreedy, son of Macreedy.” The elf said. “My sire had many daughters, but only one son of Macreedy.” He smiled and cocked his head back to look toward the tent door and said, “You might as well come in, too. These people do not appear dangerous and I don’t believe they rub off.”

************************

MONDAY

Glen and Sandra have entered a strange world but are determined to find Sandra’s baby no matter how strange it gets. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 2 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Glen left his Anthropology seminar at two-fifty. He ran to his dorm, tossed his books in the room by two-fifty-five, and ran the rest of the way to Haddon House. Though he breathed hard when he arrived, the excitement and adrenaline that rose-up inside of him made it more than worthwhile. After five minutes, he calmed and thought that maybe she was not as excited to be with him as he imagined. At ten minutes, he thought she might have run into some Friday traffic, so he sat on the steps where he could watch the parking lot and the woods. Not much longer, and his curiosity and trust began to turn. He began to doubt. He wondered if she would come at all. He began to think that perhaps she did not have feelings for him—that perhaps he just projected his feelings on her. But he knew he did not project anything, so with a deep breath, he wondered if he should go look for her.

Sandra arrived moments later. She squealed her tires and stopped without pulling properly into a space. She ran out of her car the instant she turned it off.

“Glen.” She cried out, and she did not hesitate to run straight into his arms. “She is gone. They are both gone, Melissa and my mother.”

“What?” Glen got that much out.

“I dropped Mother in the main lot and she put Melissa in the stroller while I found a safe place to park. She was going to walk Melissa across the campus to the fork on the path in the woods. I followed behind, but not too close so people would not see, you know.” She paused, but Glen reassured her with a nod. “I was going to get you and when we caught up with them, Mother was going to have errands to run, you know.” Glen hugged her and patted her back, but Sandra pulled away and looked into his face to gauge his reactions. There were tears in her eyes, and Glen saw that along with the upset, she also seemed very afraid.

“It’s all right. They must be somewhere.” Glen tried to sound confident.

“No. You don’t understand. They disappeared. I saw it. I was behind, and I saw it. They were there, a hundred yards ahead of me on the path and I was just about to come and get you when they just vanished. Glen, I don’t know what to do. I looked everywhere. I even went back to the car in case they went back there, but I am sure they did not.”

“They turned a corner or stepped behind a tree?”

Sandra grabbed Glen by the arms and squeezed, hard. “No. They vanished, disappeared, went invisible. Oh, I know it sounds impossible but you must believe me,” she pleaded. “One minute they were in front of me and the next they were gone.” She began to cry.

“Sandra.” Glen pulled her close and let her cry into his shirt. “We will find them. They must be somewhere. Show me where this happened.” Glen was not sure what he believed, but Sandra sounded so sincere.

Sandra backed up and without a word; she grabbed Glen’s hand and ran. Glen did his best to keep up. They were both worn out when they arrived, and Glen mumbled something about running more that day than the past six months put together, but Sandra had her adrenaline running faster than her feet at that point, and she started right in.

“They were here, I swear. I was back at the beginning of the trail there.” She pointed. “And they were right here and they vanished. They just went invisible. I swear to God. I swear it.” Glen examined the ground and saw the faint impression of what might be tire tracks from a stroller. He got down to look more closely and ran his finger over the dirt. He realized that these tracks were dry dirt and imagined that something got pushed through when the dirt had been moist or wet and made the tracks, which since dried. Thus, he just admitted that the tracks could not have been from Melissa’s stroller when he found a little pile of seeds.

“What are these?” he asked and held them up so Sandra could see.

“Pumpkin seeds!” Sandra yelled and threw her arms around Glen’s neck and kissed him, but it was ever so brief. “Where did you find them?”

Glen pointed. “And look. There are a few more.” They were easy enough to see since the seeds were still on the trail.

Sandra ran ahead to pick them up. “Mother! Melissa, Mother!” She called out, but heard no response, so she came back to Glen who moved slowly down the path, looking for more seeds or some other something that might indicate the way they went. Sandra talked.

“Melissa is teething and she has a whole bag of pumpkin seeds. She likes to chew on them. Mother, Melissa!”

Glen grabbed Sandra’s hand when he found another seed. “Don’t run off,” he said. “You need to help me look.” He paused and looked up at Sandra while he picked up the seed with his free hand. “They can’t have gone far, but we need to stick to the right trail.” Sandra nodded, trusted absolutely, and Glen swallowed. He did not want to disappoint her.

“Melissa has a whole bag of seeds.” She repeated herself, and they walked slowly forward until Glen caught something out of the corner of his eye. A breakaway trail pushed off to the left. The trail was not easy to see. It looked badly overgrown and rough, so only a trained hunter might spot it, but it was a trail all the same. Glen paused.

“What?” Sandra asked.

Glen paused because he was not a trained hunter, or anything close. He wondered how he could be so certain about the side trail. It felt like someone had gotten inside his mind, to look through his eyes and help, somehow, but then he spied a lone pumpkin seed and felt better until he imagined that the someone inside had directed his eyes to the seed as well. Glen shook himself to break free of that feeling. “Here,” he said, and picked up the seed. As he handed it to Sandra, he lifted an overhanging tree branch and they stepped underneath and into another place altogether.

“I don’t feel well,” Sandra said immediately. “I feel faint.” She did faint, and Glen barely caught her before she hit the dirt. He felt a bit woozy himself, but as he went to one knee to hold up the woman in his arms, and as he looked at her tranquil face, his dizzy feelings soon passed. He felt like he had been in this place before, but that did not make sense because he could not say when or exactly where in this place he might have been. In any case, if once upon a time he came to that place, it certainly was not with such a lovely companion.

“I have to,” Glen said to himself. “I can feel guilty about it later.” He dipped his head, touched his lips to hers, and thought again that one kiss would never be enough. To his surprise, she kissed him back and with some fervor, though she never opened her eyes. When they separated, she smiled, her eyes popped open to look at him, and she began to scream.

Avalon Prequel Invasion of Memories Pumpkin Seeds part 1 of 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Sandra turned twenty-three and studied as a senior at the university. Glen did not know what she was majoring in, but at twenty-four, that was not what he was interested in. Sandra was a slim, buxom blond, and Glen felt achingly attracted to her. At the same time, she showed a decided interest in him; and she showed it in every way she could think to show it, to be certain that Glen got the message, even if he turned deaf, dumb and blind. Yet for all the sexual tension between them; for all the hormones that filled the air like great clouds, and despite the ache in Glen’s bones whenever she came into the room, and the desire for him that Sandra breathed out every time she came near him, Glen remained a Gentleman, calm and collected, and Sandra remained a Lady, sweet and demure.

True; an infant could have seen the blood boiling just below the surface. They did not fool anyone, least of all themselves. And it was also true that while Glen might have wanted to say, “Come here,” and he certainly wanted to press himself up against her to feel her rapidly beating heart, and he wanted to slip his arms around her and feel her arms around him and hear the shortness of her sweet breath as her luscious, thick lips said yes, oh yes, and then he wanted to kiss her without mercy; but he did not. He could not. Something stood between them, and it seemed something Glen could not name.

So, they remained apart, at two separate desks in the university newspaper office, and each wondered why the whole room did not just explode. Glen thought briefly about cursing that unnamed something, but he did not. He knew curses always carried consequences. Curses always became more than mere words.

“Damn.” Glen could say that much. He stared at the electric typewriter and the blank page in front of him.

“What?” Sandra asked, but Glen did not answer. After a short time of staring at him, and thinking thoughts she imagined Glen could not guess, Sandra went back to her textbook. Glen got up and walked to the window.

Glen, only a junior in school, had wandered through three other schools, with plenty of time off before ending up at the university; a small but very good school in New Jersey, not far from his home. If not for his own history, he might have questioned why Sandra was older than most of her classmates, but he did not. Instead, he remembered Diana, the young woman he dated a bit more than a year earlier.

He remembered how she betrayed him—how he came home one day and found her in bed with his roommate. He understood that it was not really her fault. He remembered that it was not his fault either, though he could not exactly remember why; but she betrayed him all the same. He had been alone for a long time since then, but now Sandra seemed to be so willing.

 Glen tried telling himself that he felt reluctant to get close to her because he felt afraid of being betrayed again, but that was not true. He had healed enough to where he began to feel desperate to get close to someone again. He tried telling himself that his reservations with Sandra were because he did not really know this girl, this lovely young woman, or much of anything about her; but to be honest, young men in their early twenties rarely think about a woman as a person until later; and especially when the attraction is so strong and so mutual; and, just to be fair, most women know this and dress and act accordingly.

“I think I need to go back to my room and get some sleep,” Glen said. “I really am too exhausted to get any work done.” That felt true enough.

“I could drive you,” Sandra offered, though she did not sound sure exactly which dorm he lived in. She lived in town, at home for some reason. Glen wondered if maybe she could not afford to live on campus. “I’m late getting home myself,” she said. She put her books away and got ready in no time. She only took a second to straighten her sweater and run her fingers through her long, curly blond hair.

Glen just had to watch, especially knowing that she wanted him to watch. He loved that white knit sweater. It made a perfect V shape that hid little and suggested everything, and he felt sure she wore nothing of significance beneath the knit.

Glen tore his eyes away and got his own things. “It is hardly a walk to the dorm.” The university, being a small school, meant the whole campus was within easy walking distance. Glen pointed this out, but the protest sounded so feeble they both ignored him, and Glen thought how glad he was that he currently had a single room.

With that thought making all kinds of suggestions echo through his mind, Glen turned off the light and held the newspaper office door so Sandra could go out first. She obliged, ignored the fact that they had plenty of room, and brushed by him, or rather up against him, touching in several places as she passed. Glen did not even check to see if the door locked behind them.

Once in the car, with the windows up and only the light of the distant dormitory buildings, and the stars overhead to shine down on them and bring a glow to their faces, Sandra and Glen began to talk. They talked, not about much, at first; mostly just talk, like empty words about some of their experiences, their interests and such. Sandra asked if he was seeing anyone, and Glen felt every ounce of hope in that question. Glen started into his routine answer about Diana, not that she betrayed him, but that they broke up when he transferred from the state college to the university; but then he thought he had better be more honest.

“It felt like a strange relationship from the beginning. I found out that she had been abused as a child, and when we met, she left a guy who abused her. I kind of went overboard to make sure I stayed a gentleman the whole time, but I guess it is true that nice guys finish last. She could not handle being with a nice guy, so after about a year she ended up in bed with someone who slapped her around.” Glen shrugged. He could never understand why some women cannot feel love unless they are with jerks who treat them like dirt, and of course, that is not love, it is only a kind of masochism. “Well anyway, that is past-history. So how about you?”

Sandra turned away from Glen and Glen felt surprised, but certain that he saw a tear or two; clearly, something she did not want him to see. He had the good sense to wait, patiently, though he did slip his arm around her shoulders to offer his comfort. He could not help that.

“Most men don’t want a used woman,” Sandra said at last. She turned again to look into his eyes with such hope and longing it staggered Glen.

“Don’t be so sure, there are all kinds of men in the world,” Glen said. “Anyway, this is 1978 and aren’t you liberated or something?” As normal for him, Glen tried to lighten the intensity of what she felt, because he felt it too.

“Glen, I have stretch marks,” she said, without any lightening in her tone at all. She took his free hand and leaned into him ever so slightly as if to say, thanks for the comforting thoughts, anyway.

“What?” Glen did not get it, and he made her sit up again so he could look her in the eyes.

Sandra looked in Glen’s eyes as well and she saw that he really did not get it. She wondered how he could be so smart and so stupid at the same time. “Glen, I have a baby.”

“A baby?” Glen still did not get it exactly, but his mind began to race.

“Melissa. She is two.” Sandra said, and then it sunk into Glen’s brain and they got quiet. For a long time, they just looked at each other, face to face, in the privacy of their own minds, but feeling so much. At last, Glen leaned forward, even as she leaned up, and they kissed. She let go of his hand to put her hand behind his head as if she would not let him go. Her lips were moist and warm, and everything Glen imagined they would be. When they finally parted, Sandra grinned like a woman who got what she wanted. But then the something between them rose-up inside of Glen’s soul, and he pulled slowly away and took his arm back in the process.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Glen asked, before he amended the statement. “Can I see you and Melissa?”

“Oh, no,” Sandra tried to protest. “I could never bring her to school. People would ask too many questions, and I just couldn’t.”

“Three O’clock. It’s Friday and the campus will be empty. We could walk in the woods so no one would have to see and ask questions.” The university had natural woods at the back of the campus, with nature trails. They seemed perfect for just such an adventure.

 Sandra shook her head ever so slightly, no, but she did not say anything, and the look in her eyes certainly said, yes.

“Come on.” Glen prompted knowing that one kiss would never be enough. “You and Melissa.” He said it with more certainty and Sandra relented as her head began to nod. She looked down and took both of his hands, wondering if this might be the one. She did not feel ready to go home. She wanted to spend some more time with him right then, and maybe share everything, but by then the something came on very strong in Glen’s spirit and he gently pulled his hands free, picked up his backpack, and stepped out of the car.

“Three O’clock,” he said. “I’ll meet you beside Haddon House.” That dorm sat closest to the woods, and Glen closed the car door before Sandra could answer. He walked away and still felt her breath in his face, the touch of her lips on his, and the back of her hand that held him agreeably and said, “Hold me and don’t let go,” and he wondered what he was getting himself into. Sandra had a baby.