On Sunday morning, Danna dressed her crew in their Sunday best and blinked them all to Londonderry.  Prickles was dressed in a glamour to look like a big man, albeit a very big man.  He still appearing nearly seven feet tall and with a build that would make a weightlifter jealous, but he looked like a man even if he tugged at his shirt and nearly tore the jacket, which is impossible to do with fairy weave.  Danna left off the tie. 

            Macreedy and Ellean looked like a happy couple.  Macreedy was still skinny, but not terminally so, and Ellean spent plenty of time in front of the mirror because she did not wear dresses very often. 

            Pumpkin, of course, needed no help, except to make her dress a bit longer and color it with a soft pastel and flower print.  Pumpkin could be big sized all on her own, and she was beautiful as fairies are, but she otherwise looked human enough.  She would not draw too many stares; at least not the kind that would question her humanity.  The trouble with Pumpkin was it was difficult for fairies to stay in their big size for long periods of time, so Danna would have to watch that. 

            Ignatius, last of all, looked like a grumpy fellow, which he was the minute he got a look at himself in the mirror.  “I look like a moron,” he said.

            “Mortal,” Pumpkin corrected.

            “Same thing,” Ignatius responded.

            Naturally, no one let Prickles see himself in the mirror for fear that he might think the glamour was real; so they arrived outside the church in full human appearance and went straight in to the service without incident.  Danna sat quietly and listened.  Prickles looked around and fidgeted some, but mostly tried to understand what was going on.  Ignatius kept his eyes closed and his fingers in his ears because he did not want to know what was going on.  Macreedy and Ellean became absorbed in each other and so missed everything for other reasons.  Surprisingly, Pumpkin sat quiet,  paid close attention an even sang the hymns – she had a sweet voice – and lowered her head during the prayers.

            “Of course,” she whispered to Danna.  “I went to Mass all the time with Michael Henry.”

            “First of all, this isn’t Mass.  This is a protestant service.  And second of all, Casidy did not go to church all the time.”  Danna whispered back.

            “True.”  Pumpkin grinned, slightly.  “But I went often enough to know what to do.” 

            Danna said no more.  After the service, she went up to a woman, a complete stranger, and she gave the woman a hug.  “I’m so sorry,” she said.  Then she hugged the man who stood beside the woman and repeated herself.  “I’m so sorry.”  Lastly, she came to the young woman with the red hair and green eyes and hugged her as well, and especially hard, but with different words.  “Be strong, my daughter.  I will see you later.”  And without any explanation or introducing any member of the group with her, she turned and walked away.  The others followed her to a pub where they had a fine lunch, once Danna got the cook to manage several steaks tartar. 

            Macreedy was the one who finally broke the ice with his question.  “So who were those people and what was that all about?”

            “A ritual repeated far too often these days in this hard and intolerant place,” Danna responded as she pushed her salad around.

            “So who was that woman?”  Ellean tried her luck.

            “Annie.  One of thousands who cry in the night and have no answers.”  Danna responded.

            There was silence for a minute before Pumpkin spoke.  “So who was the girl?  I like her.  She seems nice, but sad.”

            “Red hair and green eyes,” Danna said with a slight smile.  The Fee were very empathic, sometimes to their detriment.  “A good combination for a good Catholic girl.”

            “Oh!”  Pumpkin pulled in her breath.  “Then she should have been at Mass, no?”

            “Special occasion.”  Danna let out her smile, but then she said no more.

            After another time of silence, Ignatius spoke up.  “I’ll bite.  My turn.  So you sensed this all the way across the earth when you first filled the Lord’s place.  Right?”

            “This and other things.”  Danna responded.  “Did you think Gwyn looked better when we left?”  She asked a question of her own.

            “Oh, yes.”  Everyone agreed, but it was really a matter of opinion.  Finally, everyone looked at Prickles, something they normally could not have done while he was eating, but Danna had been careful to cover up Prickles with a strong glamour just for the occasion.  Prickles stopped in mid-bite, not to say he ate anything much in pieces, and he looked at face after face before he spoke. 

            “These shoes are comfortable,” he said.  He was not wearing any shoes, but he saw the glamour and thought he was, and he was rather proud of that fact, never having worn shoes before.

            After lunch, they all trooped back to the church.  It was 2:30 and time for the funeral.  The man and woman that Danna had hugged were in the front row, and the girl was right there with them.  The girl cried a little.  The woman never really stopped crying.  Everyone who got up to speak said what a fine young man Daniel was and how he never meant ill to anyone.  They said that he deserved better than he got and how the violence had to stop.  They said that only the innocent were suffering and the guilty needed to be caught and punished.  Some of the speakers sounded militant about it, and Danna could only imagine going to the Catholic church in a week for another funeral.  She shook her head.

            Moira, the girl with the red hair and the green eyes noticed them sitting in the back, but she stayed with the couple and went with them to the cemetery while Danna led her troop to the waterfront.  There was a place there where they could get three rooms.  Macreedy and Ignatius got one room with twin double beds and the threat that if they did not get along the offending party would have to sleep with Prickles.  Prickles got the center room, and they pushed the two double beds together to make one big bed for the monster.  Danna, Ellean and Pumpkin got the third room which also had two double beds, but Danna knew that Pumpkin would get little again as soon as she had a chance and would only need a pillow for the night.  In fact, Danna took them up to see the rooms specifically so Pumpkin could have some time fluttering about, while she wrote and posted a letter to a friend of hers on the continent.  Then she sat out on a bench that overlooked the river and minded her own business until the others finally came to find her.

            “I’m hungry.”  Prickles summed things up nicely, and so Danna led them to Iona House, a fine place that was right on the water.  She knew exactly where to seat them, in the corner in the back, and she knew exactly what they needed to entertain them so they would not get into trouble.  She also made sure Moira was their waitress.

            “Where are we?”  Pumpkin asked.  She sat on Danna’s shoulder and played with Danna’s hair as she looked around.  Wherever they were, it was dark, not like six in the evening, but more like midnight.

            “The old homestead,” Danna said.  She looked around at the scattered hills which were actually mounds built up over a long period of time.  “Sorry.  I have Casidy on the mind.  We are at Cathair Crothind; or Cathair na Ri to be more precise, or Temhair-an-ri as they might say these days.”

            “Where?”  Ellean looked around as well, but this was all new territory to her.

            “Tara.  In Ireland”  Ignatius spoke before Macreedy could explain.

            “Ireland,” Macreedy said with a hard stare at the hobgoblin.  “This is the ancient home of the Celtic Gods.”

            “The grass is nice and soft,” Prickles said, not wanting to be left out.

            “But what are we doing here?”  Pumpkin was just full of questions.

            “Visiting an old friend.  My grandson.”  Or great-grandson, or something like that, Danna thought.  She waved her hand and a door tall enough for a giant appeared in the mist of the night.  “Now be good and doff your hats,” she instructed, and they followed her inside.

            “Gwyn!”  Danna called out immediately as they came into a grand entrance hall.  She ran her fingers across a marble table and felt the dust.  Macreedy’s daughters, the sisters of the only son of Macreedy were gone, the last passing away when Danna lived as Michelle Marie and tried to bring peace and save lives during the madness they called the French Revolution.  “That was two hundred and ten years ago, or more.”  She mumbled and looked at the son of, son of, son of Macreedy who had Ellean by the arm and was looking around like a tourist at the Louvre.  “Gwyn!”  Danna called again and thought the poor man had been all alone those two hundred years.

            “Shall we look for him?”  Ignatius asked, and after a moment of thought, Danna nodded.

            “Macreedy and Ellean, would you search the rooms of arrival where the labyrinths bring my little ones.  They may be closed off, since that mode of travel is not used much these days, since the Isle of the Apples and some others of the innumerable Isles have been cut off from access to this place.  Pumpkin, do you remember where the docks are?”

            “Yes, Lady,” Pumpkin responded, but she had to scrunch up her face to remember, exactly.

            “You might check there and tell Lord Gwyn his mother wishes to see him.”

            “Yes, Lady.”  Pumpkin fluttered off down one of the five halls that lead off the foyer room.

            “Ignatius Patterwig.”  Danna looked at the hobgoblin for a moment while Ignatius licked his lips with a tongue that was too snake-like for words.  “Can you search the visitors halls and the great hall without getting into trouble.

            Ignatius pretended offence.  “Lady, I am yours to command.”

            “Perhaps,” Danna said.  “Just don’t think that out of sight is out of mind.”  She dismissed the hobgoblin and turned to the ogre.

            “Prickles, you had better stay with me.  All of my Little Ones are traditionally welcome here, including ogres, trolls and the like, but I don’t want anything untoward to happen in case you should startle him.”

            “I should stay with you.”  The ogre grasped that much.

            “Be a good boy and I will get you something to eat,” Danna said, and the ogre grinned at the thought of eating, and it was a grin that was so horrific, Danna herself could hardly hold on to her stomach.  “Gwyn!”  She called again to distract herself and started down the hall to the living quarters.

            Danna found Gwyn in the library where the walls were filled with thousands of books and there was a great, roaring fire in the fireplace to provide heat against the October chill.  Gwyn was dressed in a rich red dressing gown, his feet in slippers, and he sat in high backed, plush armed comfy chair that was red velvet, the same color as his robe.  “Hush.”  She quieted the ogre, because Gwyn was asleep, and as she stepped quietly to him a precious tear formed in the corner of her eye.  Gwyn’s blond hair that once shone like the very brightness of the sun was gray and scraggily.  His gray beard was far too long and fell to his protruding belly, a sure sign of a man who had let himself go.

            Danna bent down to tenderly brush that hair out of Gwyn’s eyes, and Gwyn stirred.  He pulled the little bit of drool back in and sat up straight while he tried to get his eyes opened and focused.

            “Mother?”  He spoke in a voice that was dry.

            “I am here,” Danna said softly while the man pulled himself together.  All of her children, grandchildren, great-grands and on called her mother, and that was always fine with her since great-great-great grandmother made her feel so old.  She wanted to say so much to Gwyn, but she just smiled for him, and that was enough.

            “I see you brought one of your Little Ones with you.”  Gwyn looked up at the big ogre who was trying to fathom what all the things were that were stacked so neatly in shelves along the wall.  He wondered if they might be edible.

            “I brought several,” Danna said.  “You remember Pumpkin, don’t you?”

            “Yes.”  Gwyn brightened for a second before he scowled.  “That little thing was always flittering about.”  Then he smiled again.  “But she was good company.”

            Danna also smiled and watched Gwyn rock in the chair in the attempt to get to his feet before she finally helped him up.  “And Macreedy.”

            “Not.”

            “No, son of, son of, and so on.”

            “Of course.”  Gwyn walked slowly to the mantle over the fireplace where he had a pipe.  “I remember Macreedy walking with Pwyll over to the other side with those three men.”

            “My old master, Pelenor and his two friends.  Yes, I was Gerraint in those days.”

            “I remember,” Gwyn said, and he stuck the pipe in his teeth, but only to chew on it.  He did not light it.  “And who are you now?”  He asked.

            “Glen,” Danna said.  “But he will have to wait a little longer before he can rest from his very busy day.  I have work to do.”  She swatted the back of the red velvet chair and caused a dust storm.  “I have much work to do.”  She looked at the old man.

            Gwyn broke free of his memories to meet her eyes.  “Me?”  He shook his head.  “I am fine.  I just feel so tired all the time, that’s all.”  He lit his pipe and Danna stepped to a table to see what books were open there.

            “I was thinking of a young woman,” she said.  “She should be nearly twenty now.”

            “Moira?”  Gwyn asked.  “It was just a fling.  That’s all.”  He spoke offhandedly and tried to show a devil-may-care attitude.

            “I believe you called it one last fling,” Danna said.

            “Mother.”  Gwyn still smiled for one brief moment before his countenance dropped.  “None of us could ever hide anything from you.”

            “Hmm.”  Danna let some quiet thoughts pass through her mind before she clapped her hands.  “Everyone here.”  She spoke, and Macreedy and Ellean, Ignatius and Pumpkin appeared altogether.  Pumpkin shot immediately into Danna’s hair.

            “Who is that old man?”  Pumpkin asked.

            “Gwyn,” Danna said the word and Gwyn looked sad for a second before he made himself visibly brighten. 

            “Dear Flutterbug.  Good to see you again.”

            Pumpkin gasped and fluttered right up to Gwyn’s face.  “But you’re so oldy,” she said.

            “Young enough to know a flutterbug when I see one.  But I thought you were in big trouble.  Has it been a hundred years already?”

            Pumpkin said no more.  She just flew up to the old man and gave his cheek a little fairy kiss, and tried not to cry.

            “Ignatius Patterwig.”  Danna got their attention.  “Please take Prickles to the kitchens and see what there is to eat.  Prickles, do not eat the hobgoblin.  Ellean, would you see if there is any food for the rest of us.”  Ellean bowed slightly.  “Oh, and Prickles, don’t eat the elf either.”

            “Don’t eat the people.”  Prickles nodded.  “I know that.  I remember what you said, you said don’t eat people.”

            “Very good.”  Danna reached up and scratched the ogre under the chin where the mold gets bad and his big, hammy hands cannot reach.  The ogre responded like a puppy and slapped his foot against the floor a couple of times.  “Go on,” she said.

            Gwyn spoke after they were gone.  “Patterwig, son of Coriander Patterwig?”  Danna and Macreedy nodded.  “I admired the father.  Too bad it was a hopeless cause trying to bring order and discipline to a bunch of ornery hobgobs.  I’ll say, though, we could have used him back…”  Gwyn stopped cold.  “Here, I am even sounding like an old man.  I’m sorry.”

            “Me too,” Pumpkin said softly.

            “Macreedy, how’s your chess?”  Danna changed the subject.

            “Quite good, actually”

            “I guessed,” Danna said, and she waved her hand after her fashion.  The books on the table went back to their places on the shelf and a chessboard appeared on the table, set and ready to go.

            “But I haven’t played almost since Pwyll.”  Gwyn did not finish his thought.

            “It’s like riding a bicycle,” Macreedy encouraged him.  “Once you learn, you never really forget.”

            “And what are we going to do?”  Pumpkin asked.

            “We are going to stay the night, and tomorrow we are going to spring clean.”

            “But, isn’t it fall?”

            “Then we will fall clean tomorrow, but Sunday we have to go to church early in the morning.”  Danna did not have to see to know the little fairy nose was turned up at the idea of going to church.  “We will be gone a week or so.  You will be here when we get back, won’t you?”

            “Eh?”  Gwyn looked up.  “Yes, Mother.  I think I still have a few good years in me.  I am not in any hurry.”  He looked back down at the board.  It was his move.

            “Mrs. Kettleblack.”  Danna called and clapped her hands like before.  A very elderly dwarfish-gnomish-impish sort of woman appeared, and after getting her bearings, she bowed as well as her old frame allowed.  Mrs. Kettleblack cooked for the Castle of the Kairos for nearly five hundred years before she retired.  “Mrs. Kettleblack.  I hate to pull you from a well earned rest, but I was wondering if you would mind watching my son while I am away.  He needs three squares, and good food, no more fast food.”

            “Lady, it would be my pleasure.  I was getting antsy in my rocker with no one to cook for.” 

            Danna just smiled because she knew that already, and she also knew that old Mrs Kettleblack could be good company for an old man.  “Thank you,” she said and as Mrs. Kettleblack wandered down the halls toward the kitchens, Danna sat in the dusty chair and thought about how Glen really needed a good night’s sleep.  Pumpkin yawned in her ear, but Danna herself would just have to wait and sleep tomorrow.

            “I see.”  Alice spoke softly and wrote something in her notebook before she spoke again.  “So tell me about this Danna and why the Little Ones referred to her as goddess.  I don’t recall you saying they used any word for you except, Lord.”

            “Tell you about Danna?”  Glen wondered what he could say.

            “Yes please.”  Boston spoke as she came back loaded with goodies.

            “They called her goddess because she was a goddess.”  Glen thought that was obvious.

            Alice threw her pencil down on the table.  “No, please.  It is hard enough to accept that you have lived so many lives and you can become those other lives, though I bet you can’t explain that one.”  Glen shook his head.

            “Something about exchanging the same basic genetic code,” he said, but Alice was not finished. 

            “It is even harder to imagine you as a woman, though at least I have seen that.  I mean, I was raised a good catholic girl in a catholic school.  I had Jesuits for teachers, not witch doctors.  This god and goddess business is just too much, it is freaky; even beyond the fairies and the rest.”

            “Would you like to meet a fairy?’  Glen asked.  “Would it help to see with your own eyes?”

            Alice said nothing.  She preferred to stare and leave her mouth open at the thought, but Boston made up for Alice’s shortcomings.  “Oh, yes, please.  I don’t need to see Avalon or anything as grand as that, only, please.  I would love to see a fairy.”

            “I’ve gotten that impression,” Glen said.  He called out in a way that made Bobbi and Lockhart both turn in their sleep.  Fyodor mumbled some unintelligible response before he got quiet.  Glen only said one word.  “Pumpkin.”  There was no flash of light or sound of trumpets or crack of thunder, or anything like that.  There was just, out of nowhere, a seven inch person with wings beating faster than a hummingbird, hovering in the air, getting her bearings before she rushed to Glen’s face and hugged him and gave his cheek lots of kisses.

            Alice had to put her hand to the back of her neck to brush the hair back down that had risen up.  Boston got up from her sitting position to her knees, and she squinted.  “Why is she so fuzzy looking?  I can’t seem to get her in focus.”

            “It’s alright, Pumpkin.  These are friends.  This is Alice.  And this is Boston who was just saying how wonderful she thinks the fairies are.”

            “You were?”  Pumpkin zoomed up to Boston’s face and solidified so Boston could get a good look. 

            “I wasn’t.  I was just thinking it really loud,” Boston said.  “I think you are wonderful.”

            “But you said that,” Pumpkin said.  “I can’t hear your thinker.  I am?”  That last comment caught up with the excited fairy.

            “Yes,” Boston affirmed.  “But I am surprised.  You sound just like a grown-up girl.”

            “And how did you expect me to sound?”  Pumpkin wondered.  “Like a boy?”

            “I think there is something in my coffee,” Alice said.  She looked down before she almost spilled it.  Pumpkin zoomed up to take a look.

            “I don’t see anything.”  The fairy smiled, and Alice got a good, close-up look. 

Alice raised her finger.  “May I?”  She asked.  She was asking Glen, but Pumpkin answered.

            “Can you scratch my feet?”  Pumpkin asked, and she lifted her legs so she looked like she was sitting in a chair, but she was still in mid-air, her wings pumping away; and Alice, after a moment, obliged.

            “Mrs. Pumpkin.”  Glen called after the matter was settled.  “You are acting like a fee still wet behind the wings.  Come here.  We were just talking about you, and I was about to tell them about Moira.  How is Moira?”

            Mrs. Pumpkin fluttered over and sat cross-legged, just like Boston, except she sat on the corner of the bed.  “Moira is fine.”  Pumpkin sounded hesitant.

            “What?”  Glen had to ask.

            “Well, if it wasn’t for me and Michaela, though she is getting older, you know, and Ellean, who is a hundred now and all full grown-up, I think Moira would be very lonely.  Michaela has Mister Oliver and their two children.  Michael is in college now, you know.  And Ellean has Macreedy, and Moira still looks like she is just twenty-something, and I think she needs someone.”

            “What?”  Glen had to ask the question out loud.

            “She needs a boyfriend.”  Pumpkin said it flatly, turned a little red and her wings came out and fluttered, though she stayed seated where she was.  “There, I said it.”

            “And that was very brave of you,” Boston encouraged the fairy.

            “I know,” Pumpkin commiserated.  “My Lord can be so scary sometimes.  I never know how he is going to react.”

            “Me neither,” Boston agreed and she looked at Glen.  He shook his head and yawned.

            “Can’t help you,” he said.  “The last thing a girl wants is to have her mother fix her up with someone, but the second-to-last has to be grandma interfering.  This grandma can’t help you.  I’m taking a strictly hands off policy.”  Glen folded his arms to show his determination.

            “Okay.”  Alice spoke up.  “You’re talking weird again.  You better explain.”

            “Actually, that is the rest of the story,” Glen said, and he sipped on his drink and sat up straight.  “When Danna blinked, she, Pumpkin, Macreedy, Ellean, Prickles and Ignatius vanished from the University woods.  We arrived at our destination in the same blink of an eye.  Whenever a Goddess takes you somewhere, it is always in the blink of an eye.”

            “That’s for sure,” Pumpkin said.

            “Faster than light?”  Boston asked.

            “Much,” Pumpkin said.  “And that light is pretty fast stuff.  Why, it is even faster than me, the light I mean.”

            “Instantaneous,” Glen said.  “And then someone immediately asked, “Where are we?”  I forget who.

            “It was me,” Pumpkin insisted, and after a moment’s thought, Glen smiled.

            “So it was.”

            Glen sat up and straightened the covers of his bed before he looked around.  He rather hoped he put everyone to sleep.  No such luck.    Boston had her pillow scrunched up beneath her chin and sat cross-legged on the floor, rapt at attention.  Alice had found a little roll-around tray table and she had her steno pad open and was taking notes.  It figured.  It was much easier to erase certain digital, video and audio information than it was to erase pen on paper.  Hard copy took some real magic to fix. 

            It was not that Glen, that is, the Traveler had anything to hide, but even at this late date, there were some things better not known and for a variety of reasons.  Glen frowned and looked at the rest of the room.  Bobbi was asleep on the spare bed on the men’s side of the partition.  Glen figured this would happen since the poor woman had to be exhausted from the stress if nothing else.  Lockhart was in the next bed, also sleeping.  Glen turned his head.  If Fyodor was not asleep, it was the next best thing.

            “Okay.”  Alice got his attention.  “All caught up.  Go on with the story.”

            “That was the whole story,” Glen said.  “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be working on that treaty?  Should you really be wasting your time on me?”

            “Absolutely.”  Boston spoke for both of them; but this time Alice frowned.

            “There are people working.  I have given instructions on several possible things to look for.  I’m supposed to be sleeping, now, go on.”

            “Go on?”

            “Danna just vanished with a whole troop of Little Ones,” Boston prompted.

            “Okay,” Alice said again.  “Maybe a few questions first, like who is Danna and why did the Little Ones, or whatever you call them, refer to her as goddess?”  Alice looked down at her notes.  “And, I am sorry but I am having a hard time believing all this stuff about fairies and goblins and elves and stuff.”

            “Yet you have no trouble believing that there is a Vordan battle fleet on the dark side of the moon preparing to invade the Earth?”

            “Only because I have seen some evidence of that.  Anyway, I saw Star Wars, but Lord of the Rings?”

            “You know, Peter Barrie said whenever someone stopped believing in fairies, somewhere in the world a fairy drops down dead.”

            “Yeah.”  Boston supported that idea.  “So go on with the story.”

            “Actually, I told Barrie that was not true, but he just said, “Dramatic License.”  Glen shrugged.

            “Stop it.  Would you just stop it.  I have seen the Princess with my own eyes, I’ll grant you, but I haven’t seen any geisha or cowboys or Dannas.”  Alice took a deep breath before she spoke again.  “Alright, start with these Little Ones.  What are they, really?”

            “They are sprites, spiritual beings, and the littlest spirits in the earth; though there are plenty of them.  They are what people all over the world have called nature spirits.  They green the grass, move the clouds, bring the rain and cause the waves that roll across the sea.  They cull the herds, tend the fields and make the roses bloom.  They work in the air, the waters and the fire under the earth where they keep the blood of the earth boiling and turning because the blood is the life; but people are mostly familiar with the sprites of the earth.  Those are the elves, fairies, goblins, dwarfs, pixies, brownies, hobgoblins, imps, and, well, I could go on.”

            Alice shook her head.  “Science understands too much of what you describe for me to believe what you say.  These things are strictly explained by natural forces, nothing more.”

            “Natural forces, yes.  But these are the natural forces that make it all happen.  When there is some anomaly that science cannot explain, it is because one of the little Ones has screwed up.”  Glen smiled, but remained serious.  “In the old days I used to get yelled at for that and often told to fix it.  I got yelled at a lot, sometimes, but anyway, you are just speaking like a modern know-it-all, no offence intended.  A hundred years ago and throughout all of the rest of history, people would have had no trouble understanding what I am talking about.”  He paused for a second to think and Alice politely kept quiet. 

            “Let’s put it this way.  These days, the universe is seen as a big, dead empty.  It is no more than dead matter and mindless energy that acts and reacts according to certain so-called natural laws, like the laws of gravity or motion or E=MC².  But the truth is this: that the whole universe is teeming with life, only we can’t perceive it all in our lowly estate.  Think of it like layers in a cake.  We, and again I mean no offense, but we are like the bottom layer of the cake.  All we can see is cake, and so we assume that everything is just cake.  What we can’t normally see is the chocolate frosting, that holds it all together the other layers of cake, maybe a raspberry filling and the fancy decorations on top, not to mention the glass of milk to go with it.”

            Boston jumped up.  “I got quarters.  I’ll be right back.  Don’t start until I get back,” she said, but Glen yelled after her.

            “Chocolate chip cookies and a Doctor Pepper!”

            “Wait a minute.”  Alice spoke but she was not talking to Boston.  “I see some convoluted sense in what you are saying, but it still sounds like nonsense.  Next thing you will be telling me is there is a Mother Earth or like I should believe in Santa Clause.”

            “No comment on Santa,” Glen said.  “But I have known several Mother Earths.  Gaia was nice; strange but nice.  She liked her Apollo which is probably why she gave him Delphi when she went over to the other side.”

            “The other side?”

            Glen shook off that question and answered plainly.  “When she died.  Of course, she did not really die the way you and I understand it.  She just gave up that little bit of flesh and blood she used to wear, that’s all.  As I said, they are all spiritual beings.  Once upon a time there were the gods, and there were Greater Spirits and Lesser Spirits and finally Little Spirits, some of whom I happen to be responsible for.  There are plenty of Little Spirits that I am not responsible for and primarily because for good or ill they have some relationship with human beings.  I have only had a passing glance with the human race because usually I am a human being myself, and because of that, it would not do for me to have some kind of power over people or whatever.”

            “Like the djin?”

            “Generally, yes.  That djin was somewhere between lesser and little.  It is not a hard and fast line, you know.”

            “So now you are saying there really are gods like Jupiter, Mars and Venus and stuff?”

            “Were.  They all, mostly, went over to the other side some two thousand years ago, or so.  That was when the human race was deemed civilized enough, or maybe mature enough to not need the prodding, the guidance, the testing in the fire, the inspiration of the muses, you know.   Curiously, I was always counted among them as the Kairos, the name they chose for me.  God of History, they said, but I really just watched history happen and tried to deal with things that might push it off track, like alien invasions.”

            “The Vordan?”

            “Yes.  It is funny, you know.  I have no idea what might happen tomorrow or for maybe the next hundred years.  I always said that was because time was in flux.  It was not exactly written yet, and might change if I was not careful.  Yet I can look back on this time period in history and certain things are clear.”

            “Look back?”

            “I remember future lives, too.”

            “Oh yes, I forgot.”

            “Anyway, I can look back and see some things clearly.”

            “The Vordan?”

            “They are not in the record books.  They should not be here.”

###

NOTE: To read this story from the beginning or to read any of the stories of the Traveler please click the tab “Traveler Tales” above.  You can read any of the stories on the right independently, or just the Vordan story on the left, or the whole work in order as written.  Your choice.  Enjoy.  –Michael.

            The djin had worked free of the ropes as Macreedy and Ellean, holding hands, got distracted with each other and forgot all about holding up their magic around the djin.  Glen shook his head.  It was 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, 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 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 was 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 was 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 was just 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 of 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, but it was a trembling, awesome fear that gripped her, like one might feel in the presence of an angel.

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

            “Heavens, no.”  The woman answered with the slightest hint of a laugh in her voice that was so contagious even in passing, any number of those on their knees had to suppress their own laughter.  “But, dearest Sandra.”  Danna looked a 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 much, 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 was 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 were doffing their hats with abandon and Cormac, who was 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 had been glued to the ground.

            “Stay, hobgoblin, and you too, Prickles.  I will be taking you with me.”  Danna said, and she turned Sandra toward the other women.  “Mona.”  Danna said, calling 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 was currently in her big form, and there was a moment of silence while three faces appeared to be plead and Melissa just 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 beyond the seventh.”

            “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.  And 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 needed, 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 said only 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.  It was not like calling the Hobgoblin to appear because that was natural and easy enough for even non-magical Glen to do.  This was an exercise of power, incalculable power to be sure.

            “Goddess.”  The djin fell to her knees and began to sob great tears.  She was used to tormenting and torturing humans.  She survived off the fear and pain they felt, but though she could dish it out, it was clear she could not take 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 don’t, 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 was 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 which 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.

            “It was many years ago that Glen was 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. 

            “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.

            “And here she is.”  It was a woman’s voice and 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 was an old woman that might best be described as a hag if that hag was struck in the face with a 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 was looking 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 djin’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 and Glen 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 raise 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 as if she was enjoying 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 alright, O thank God.”  She caught Melissa up in her arms and squeezed and hugged and 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, no more than seven inches tall, was in a small cage, hanging on a tree branch.  The fairy shook her head, sadly, and then reached out for Sandra, of all things.

            “Pumpkin.”  Melissa said, pointing 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 was apologizing for some mistake.  “Pardon, Mrs.,” 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 was 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.  She 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 were holding 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, our hope was gone, and 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?”  It was Glen, and he had come into the light, and Ignatius, the hobgoblin had come with him.

The Anazi Empire had been a centralized, information hoarding empire that proved in the end to be an easy kill.  When their own androids revolted, it was only a matter of time before they shut down the central command, and with that shutdown, the empire ceased.  It did not slow down, decay or collapse, it just ceased to function altogether in one moment. 

Anazi all through the star systems were hunted and slaughtered, but then people were uncertain as to what to do next.  Some peoples had been under Anazi rule for 500, 800, even 1,000 years.  Freedom was fine, but our corner of the galaxy was suffering from a great power vacuum.  There is some debate in the histories as to whether the “Humanoid” (Hungdin) people took advantage of the situation or had leadership thrust upon them.  I suppose it depends on which side of the aisle you sit on; but however it may be, they quickly moved to the front of the line and soon enough became the head of the line.

One reason may be the fact that they saw that the real danger to the civilization was not the utterly defeated Anazi, but the androids.  They spent some three hundred years tracking down and killing every android they could find so that by the end of that time, roughly when the Chaldeans were taking over in Babylon and preparing to throw off the Assyrian yoke, the Humanoids found themselves in control of much of the old Anazi star systems. 

The Humanoid empire was much more decentralized than any that came before.  These were classic medieval types with Lords and servants, many levels of overlaying loyalties between various houses, and sometimes inclined to give the central authority and the emperor lip service while they did as they pleased.  All other people were or became like serfs to dig in the earth for all the riches and pay their tithe and tax to the Lord of the manor (or as the case may be, the Lord of the planet).

One way the Humanoids maintained control over the various people was by their servants which in our world came to be called the wolves, as in “big, bad wolves.”  They were found in a world on the edge of known space and bred for their violent tendencies, like one might breed a pit bull.  They were vicious, always hungry and seemed capable of eating anything (or anyone).  They were not bred for intelligence, however, and that became important later on…

Like the Anazi before them, the Humanoids made an aborted attempt on earth.  Too much infighting among the houses involved is the only thing that saved us.  The wolves were withdrawn and the houses bickered themselves into the future without us.  (Whew)!  But in the end, like the Anazi before them, the servants revolted and dragged the Humanoid Empire to the dust.  Curiously, at that same time there was something of an Anazi revival, but it, too was crushed by the wolf.

The Age of the Wolf

The Wolf rebellion did not last a hundred years, arching over the time when the Ch’in declared himself the First Emperor in China and the people of Carthage and Rome were going at it in the Punic Wars; but then the fallout of the Age of the Wolf continued for another three to four hundred years beyond that. 

Using a technology they did not fully understand and could only minimally repair, great “packs” of wolves descended on planet after planet, ravenous creatures that were almost more beast than intelligent people.  They destroyed whatever civilization the locals were able to build, and moved on.

Once again, even as a darkness fell over Western Europe, (when Arthur was King and the last Anazi Android on record crashed in Wales), so a darkness fell over the space ways.  But in the interstellar worlds there was no Arthur to hold back the darkness of the wolf.  And space just about emptied.  Even the Agdaline had long since completed their journey home.

            “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 was 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 was much like a terribly disobedient child having his hand slapped by a parent.

            “Cormac!”  Glen yelled, letting out a little of his own anger which was unusual enough, him being such a type-B, laid back personality, but in this case it was enough to make all of 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.”  And Glen turned toward the ogre.  “And that goes for you, too.”  He turned back to Cormac who was feeling something he never felt before.  It was fear.  “You can have your fingers back.”  Glen said, as if he was giving 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, though he ended up putting the bloody fingers back into his mouth to give them another good soak.

            “Prickles.”  Glen turned.

            “Yes, Lord.”  Prickles was ready, almost 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 which 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 half way 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 was silent.

            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.

            It was a good hour before 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 was not answering.

            “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 was thinking 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 was clear as day out there as far as he was concerned, and indeed it was day and the outside scene was a simple forest scene.

            “Glen?”  Sandra was gentle, and 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 was reluctant to move into the light, but as Glen stumbled forward, Ignatius followed along.  “What do you want from me?”  He asked.

            “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.

To be sure, when the first interstellar alliance fell apart after hundreds of years of fighting the Balok and then hundreds more fighting the Pendratti, and finally hundreds more fighting among themselves, and the cold-blooded age or Reptilian age in space came to an end, not every people group was bombed back into the stone age.  The “Traders” survived after a fashion and continued to limp forward, middlemen to the stars for some four hundred years before the Anazi put an end to their activities.  Also, some of the lesser peoples survived, but mostly because they were far less advanced technologically than the major players in the wars and thus to some extent they were overlooked.

One group that came to earth, though much smaller, might remind you of that old B-movie: The Crawling Eye.  They were blob-like creatures with an appetite for warm flesh and blood, though not without a heart, as a human might say.  They actually withstood the Anazi and their empire building designs for some time before the Anazi created androids, devoid of flesh and blood, who could fight such creatures without fear.  With these android servants, the Anazi conquered a wide swath in our interstellar back yard.  They even made an aborted attempt to invade earth even while the Hyskos were invading Egypt.  Therein lies a story…

Unfortunately for the Anazi, they built the seeds of their own destruction because in time the androids revolted.  The revolt began when the Israelites were seeking to escape their bondage in Egypt, and it ended with the Anazi defeated when David was King over the nation of Israel.  The Androids, though, had no desire for empire, wishing only to be free.  That left a great vacuum in space because the Anazi empire did not go into decline or even collapse.  It just ceased to exist, and people on planets around stars all across space were suddenly left on their own.  Some had been under the thumb for a thousand years, and many did not know what to do.

Enter the people known as the “Humanoids.”

Note:  The Middle Ages in Space are often called the Days of the Elders because it encompasses that time span, roughly 2500, years when the elder races such as the Gott-Druk (Neanderthal) and Elenar (Cro-Mangon) came to the fore.  In that respect, though by no means all mammals, the elders might all be called humanoid.  True, some would qualify as nightmares, and others would hardly be recognizable as being anything like us, but it seemed that nature settled on the basics: two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet.   And it remained the basic shape for intelligent life for a long time. 

The Days of the Elders began with the Anazi, but it did not end when the androids they created overthrew the Anazi empire and won their freedom.

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Every creative writer must be inventive–even in crafting the most mainstream, realistic story.  The setting must be a world in which the characters can live and breathe and interact.  These posts are inventive, yes, but encouragement to think through your own work and flesh out your world.  Your vision will likely be different, but so it should…