Mrs. Aster reached out to hold Beth’s hand which rested on the table while Mrs. Copperpot settled into the last seat, the one next to her good eater, James, and Inaros fell silent readily enough. He would let the woman explain.

“And who is Angel?” Beth asked before the fairy could begin.

Mrs. Aster looked at the others before she spoke. “When Ashtoreth, the demon-goddess came out of hiding, and drew your father into this place, and captured the Lords of the Dias, and imprisoned your mother, we four did something that is not normal for our kind to do.”

“And it was a shameful hard thing for us, let me tell you,” Deathwalker added.

“We prayed, not to your father, the Kairos, as is our way, because he is in the most danger of all, but to the other.”

“To the one above,” Mrs. Copperpot said.

“To the Source,” Mrs. Aster closed her eyes.

“To God?” Chris said the word out loud and saw the four elders wince, but nod.

“We were brought into this place and told to wait for you,” Mrs. Aster went on.

“And it was the most scariest moment of my life, let me tell you,” Deathwalker said, and to hear a goblin, or whatever he was, talk about being scared really felt like something.

“And so, now, here we all are, but I am not sure what we can do about the situation,” Mrs. Aster finished.

“Out there?” David asked. He looked up at Inaros, who like James, kept trying not to doze off.

“But it is dangerous out there,” Chris said, in all honesty.

“Yes, son, it is,” Deathwalker said, knowingly. He raised a hand, filled with very sharp nails, and placed it gently on Chris’ shoulder. “There’s danger on every street corner. Washington, Bangkok, Paris. Why, a person can’t hardly make his way in the world without bumping into some evil…” He stopped. “Oh, you meant Avalon.”

“Well, yeah.” Beth sounded exasperated.

“Well, maybe we ought to start with some pictures, some background to get the gist of what we are up against,” he said.

“No,” Mrs. Copperpot said sternly as she stood. “Children got to get ready for bed first,” she insisted.

Clothes were laid out on the four beds, clothes the children did not notice before or that somehow just magically appeared. Mrs. Copperpot pulled a screen from the wall to separate Beth’s area from the boys, and Inaros showed them the bathroom, behind a door on the bedside. The door, almost invisible, fit perfectly into the white wall like the door to the kitchen on the table side.

“Everything off,” Mrs. Copperpot insisted.

“This is fairy weave,” Mrs. Aster explained to them all. You can grow it, shape it, and even color it just by thinking about it. You can harden it for shoes or leave it soft underneath against the skin. You can even separate it into several pieces or bring it back together into a nice dress if you like.”

“I’m not wearing a dress,” James said.

“Of course, you have to separate it to make shoes,” Inaros said, grumpily, like it had gotten past his bedtime.

“She meant me and the dress,” Beth told her little brother.

“Don’t be wearing shoes to bed. You’ll get the sheets all dirty,” Mrs. Copperpot said.

Eventually, all four children were ready, though Beth kept changing her nightgown from blue to green and back again, unable to decide, until Mrs. Aster turned it into a green background with big blue flowers and told her to leave it alone. Then they took their pillows and gathered themselves on the floor in front of the big blank wall at the back of the room, which was going to be their television, as Deathwalker explained.

Mrs. Aster changed back into her fairy size, with wings fluttering gently against the air to keep herself aloft. She said it felt much more comfortable than being big, and Beth said she did not mind. Mrs. Copperpot wanted to pick James up and hold him in her lap, but James decided he would rather not. David would not let poor Inaros sleep. He got excited and expected a good movie. Chris talked with Deathwalker who wanted to get things started; but he tried to answer Chris’ questions and got loud enough for everyone to hear while they waited.

“But how can my dad have lived other lifetimes?” he asked, having realized that the Kairos had to be something more than just a title passed down from person to person.

“Well, it would be more correct to say the Kairos has lived many lifetimes and at present he happens to be your dad. In other lifetimes, the Kairos lived as dad or mom, as it were, of other children.”

“But look. I remember where it said it is appointed once for a man to die and after that the judgment.” Chris insisted.

“Yes, it is, but there is the hurt of it, don’t you see? The Kairos gets all the pain and suffering of death, right up to the last breath, but before he can cross over to the other side he gets pulled into a new conception. He is never actually allowed to die.”

“But I thought reincarnation—”

“It isn’t reincarnation.” Deathwalker spoke with certainty. “It is deliberate and done by a power far greater than us little spirits have. Sometimes he calls the doers his friends, and sometimes he bitterly refers to himself or herself as an experiment in time and genetics, but all the same, he or she gets born again and starts from scratch again as a know-nothing baby.”

“But…”

“Sit down, son,” Deathwalker said, gently, and he reached up again with that clawed hand and rested it again on Chris’ shoulder. “There’s a couple of things to know yet, and no sense in getting worked up over what none of us can really know or understand.”

Chris nodded and sat as Mrs. Aster fluttered up to the wall, pulled a stick out of some unseen pocket, or something like a stick, and began to tap the wall here and there. Wherever she tapped, there came a swirl of color which spread out until it touched other swirls, and then the swirls began to form into shapes, out of focus at first, but they slowly came together.

“Like Tinkerbell.” David suggested.

“Wrong kind of wings,” James pointed out, and then they all grew quiet as the pictures on the wall took on a three-dimensional quality that no television or movie could match. It seemed like they were looking through a glass into another place, altogether.

Alice stood in that place. They all recognized her by her blonde hair, and when she turned around, by her light brown, almost golden sparkling eyes. They named her; and the golden door stood there too. The children imagined it had to be how Alice got into that place, wherever she was. It looked completely desolate, a bit rocky and full of bare dirt without the least sign of grass or anything growing and alive at all.

“This all happened ages and ages ago,” Deathwalker explained. “That spot where they are standing is at the very center of where the Castle of the Kairos now stands.”

“And who is the other one?” Beth asked, because a man that faced Alice had to be nine or ten feet tall.

“Cronos,” Deathwalker said, and they watched while the two held out their hands and something began to glow between them. In a very short time they saw a crystal of some sort, but with an internal glow as if something bright got trapped inside the crystal. After another short time, the crystal began to pulse with a regular steady beat, and then the making of that object seemed to be done.

“That is the Heart of Time,” Mrs. Aster said. “That is the point where human history began, and everything that has ever happened since then is recorded in the heart.”

“Everything?” David wondered, and the four little spirits all nodded.

“Trouble is, the heart is now in the hands of the demon,” Deathwalker said. “And there is no telling what she is doing with it.”

“Our fear is that she may attempt to break it,” Mrs. Aster said.

“And a real fear that is,” Mrs. Copperpot interjected. “Some say that human history will come to an end at that point. Some say that time itself will come to an end. Some say creation will be ended and the whole universe will roll up like a scroll. Who can say exactly?”

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MONDAY

After witnessing the making of the Heart of Time, and hearing the dire predictions, it is time to have some further explanations, like why they are there and what they hope to do about the trouble. Next time. Until then, Happy Reading

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