Avalon

Golden Door Chapter 13 David to the Sea, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Mickey danced from one slippery stone to the next, as sure footed as a mountain goat. The others had to be more careful to keep from slipping and injuring themselves, especially David, and this made their overall progress very slow.

“Where dey go?” They heard the Cyclops as it finally pulled itself up to the top of the cliff.

Feeling good with the world, Mickey began to sing a little tune as he danced, and sometimes helped the others.

“Hi-dee, Die-dee, Diddly-dee.

Fiona love please marry me.

We’ll sail across the briny sea,

And make our home in Timbukthree.”

“Help!” Oren shouted between making horrible gurgling sounds. “Help! Help!” He got very loud, and Inaros and Floren had to make a mad dash to grab the boy who had slipped into a small pool where he could not get a grip. He swirled around and looked ready to slip on down the mountainside. Once Inaros caught the boy by the scruff of his collar and hauled him up to safety, Mickey continued.

“Hi-dee, Die-dee Diddly-do.

O’Mac my love I’ll marry you.

And promise ever to be true…

“Hey!” David interrupted. “I thought the place was Timbuktu.”

“Oh, ye heard that one.” Mickey disappeared into a dark opening beside the river.

“Found you.” They all heard the voice above and looked up to see a tremendous hand come grabbing down into the crevasse. The Cyclops could not reach them, but it did knock several boulders free, stones which were just waiting for the chance to let the water send them crashing down to the sea. David watched one as big as his chest pass inches from his face.

“In here.” Mickey stuck his head out from the dark and disappeared again. Floren hustled Oren and Alden into the dark. Inaros grabbed David’s hand and pulled him along.

“I can’t fit in there.” David protested, seeing the place as dark and foreboding. They looked up. The giant hand started coming down again, ready to make a more accurate grab at them.

“Rabbit warrens and gopher holes…” Mickey O’Mac chanted but David did not hear it all as he found himself shrunk to the size of a rabbit, if not a mouse.

“Curiouser and curiouser, Alice said.” Inaros added some words of his own as he shoved the young man into the dark and followed.

“Supper! Come back!” They heard the words before they heard pounding on the rocks with the tree trunk the Cyclops carried around for a club. The water worn rocks crumbled and that moved them deeper into the cave where it opened-up and where they heard the sound of breakers crashing against some rocks down below.

“Watch your step,” Mickey said, as they walked around the corner and came into a true grotto where they found a large opening to the sea, with wind and light above and swirling waters below. The rocks remained slippery wet from the sea mist, and the way narrow against the cave wall, before it opened out into a full-fledged ledge above the water. Inaros, Floren and the boys got big again, returning to their normal size. Mickey, of course, was naturally only about two feet tall, but David protested.

“Hey! I can’t do that!” He gave the little man a hard look, eye to eye as it were.

“Sure, ye can,” Mickey said. “Get big or little as you please, it makes no matter to me.”

Floren reached for David’s hand. “You just have to decide in your heart, and you can be your regular size again.” David tried it, and it didn’t work at first. He began to panic, but Inaros slapped him hard on the back, nearly knocking him over, and shouted at him.

“Put some gumph into it!”

David did not know what gumph was, but the slap made him mad and immediately he became his normal size again and might have said something improper to the elf if he had not noticed. “I did it,” he shouted instead.

“Yes, you did,” Inaros said, with a smile.

“Hey! Look at this!” Alden called them over. They had been looking at the crystals in the walls that reflected the light that came in over the sea. The light made so many rainbows of color they were hard to count. And that happened with only dim light from a cloud filled sky, David thought. The cave on a sunny day had to be spectacular.

“Cool!” Oren shouted, and the others looked more closely. Someone had arranged a number of crystals to make pictures, like one might expect a caveman to paint on a cave wall, but here, in the shimmering light, the animals depicted seemed to move. David could imagine the whale spouting and the dolphins leaping high above the water line. He saw the tentacles of the jellyfish swirling around, and the school of pilot fish darting into the coral to escape the jaws of a shark that looked all too real.

“Awesome,” Alden added, and up to a point, David agreed, as long as he did not focus on the shark. He hardly had time to say so, though, because three things happened in quick succession. First, the pounding on the cave entrance in the crevasse became marked and regular like the Cyclops became determined to dig out his treats. Several stones and a few crystals crumbled and fell from the ceiling, and while no one initially got hurt, they knew they did not have long to decide what to do. A few stones clattered on the ledge, though most fell into the water. Floren pulled David back from beneath a rather large stone which looked a bit like a loose tooth.

Then the water level began to drop. It may have been dropping slowly all along, only they really noticed as they watched the ceiling stones splash into the drink. It sped up, looked a bit like someone pulled the plug, and in a very short while the entire cave would be emptied.

Then third, there came a brief flash of light, not as bright as the light that surrounded Angel, but just as intense in its own way. A figure rose-up from the water, a woman, and she did not look too pleased with what she saw or heard.

“Enough!” The woman shouted with a voice of command that echoed in the cave loud enough to make David throw his hands to his ears. When he looked up, he saw Inaros and Floren bow, Alden and Oren pressed back into the wall in the hope that they might not be noticed, and Mickey O’Mac whined.

“Lady, dear lady. It is not what you think.” David barely had time to notice the pounding on the cave had stopped before he heard the lady answer and saw a very slim, wry smile cross the lady’s lips.

“And what do I think?”

“Oh.” Now Mickey bowed, deeply. “These fine people were about to be tasty morsels for the Cyclops, and I thought, kind heart that I am, that the Lady would not mind her place used to save such noble lives as these. Oh.”

“And yes, I have a kind heart,” the lady said. “But you have trespassed.” The lady paused in the pretense of thinking. “I should say letting you off for invading my sanctuary will be fair payment for the lives you have saved. Do not ask them for further payment of any kind, is that clear?”

“Oh!” Mickey wailed. “I’ll be beggared! I’ll starve!”

The lady pinched her fingers and Mickey continued to make noises, but his lips got sealed shut. “Now, let us see what noble lives you have saved.” She waved, and Inaros, Floren, Oren and Alden were drawn into a line as if they were soldiers waiting for inspection. David also felt the pull, but he resisted and stayed where he was; and then he regretted resisting as the lady looked at him. He should have run to stand behind the line instead.

“Inaros, old friend.” The Lady looked back at the line of elves.

Inaros bowed a second time. “Lady Alyscia. Always a pleasure.”

The lady returned a slight tip of her head and turned to Floren and the boys.

“Floren, mum.” Floren bowed. “My brother Oren and his friend Alden,” she finished the introductions.

“I see,” the lady said, seeing more than just the names. “Daughter and son of Lord Galadren, and friend. You are welcome to my sanctuary.” She turned toward David. “And what have we here? Were he not able to resist my simple will, I would have guessed he was mortal flesh and blood.” She stepped toward David, and to his credit, David stood his ground.

She set her hand gently against David’s cheek and appeared surprised. “Human, mortal, and yet not. Gifted with every ability of the elves of the light, yet he is not aware of it and has much to learn.”

Inaros made this introduction. “Lady Alyscia, naiad of the grotto, may I introduce David, son of the Kairos.”

The naiad’s eyebrows went up and that stern look changed back to that sly little grin. “But what brings you to my sea? Why have you come?” She pealed her eyes away from David and turned them again to Inaros which allowed David to let out the breath he had been holding.

“We had thought to find some way to reach the Palace beneath the waves. Our mission is to free Lord Galadren if we can, and the ladies that are held prisoners in the dungeon. Sadly, we got only this far before the Cyclops nearly had us for supper.”

“Oh, but Inaros friend, there is far worse coming,” Alyscia said. She took the old elf’s arm and lead him to the edge of the ledge. “You see, the sea is drained.” And mostly it was. “And that means much more will be along shortly.” She did not explain. “But perhaps I can help.” She paused for the touch on her garment. “Fine, Mickey, fine.” She said and snapped her fingers so Mickey’s mouth could come unglued. He gasped a great gulp of air as if he had not been breathing through his nose. “This should do it,” the naiad said as she touched each one on the head. When she came to David, though, she paused, and a look of concern crossed her face.

“Do not resist.” Inaros spoke up. “Let her have her way with you and trust that it is for your safety, like the rest of us.”

David paused, but he felt willing to trust the old man. He closed his eyes and felt a brief touch on his head and something like golden sparkles tingle through his body. When he opened his eyes again, the lady had gone. Then the water came back in a furious torrent and David barely heard Floren shout, “Tidal Wave!” Before the water reached the ceiling of the cave and they were all in over their heads. David might have balked at that, but it happened so fast, he was breathing underwater before he realized what he was doing.

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

MONDAY

At least James gets a good lunch in before the trouble begins and they run into the ogre. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Golden Door Chapter 13 David to the Sea, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

It took very little effort to convince Floren, Alden and Oren to follow along on the quest. Floren seemed anxious to get out from under her charge to watch the boys, and she imagined, perhaps falsely, that the boys would be more respectful of the older gentleman among them. The boys were bored and ready for the chance to break the tedium of hiding out and eating fish every day. They immediately began to fend off pretend dragons and imaginary monsters in the deep. They tried to get David interested in the game, but for David it started becoming all too real and he felt loath to imagine the dangers that might lie ahead. Still, he felt glad for the company and thought the more, the better; while Inaros, for his part, appeared content to sit comfortably and reminisce about real adventures he had in his younger days, perhaps with Captain Van Dyke, or Lady Margueritte, or some other person of the Kairos. In fact, after a good helping of fish, he easily reminisced himself into a nap.

“Hush.” Floren quieted the boys. “Let him sleep. We are only an hour from the sea and the day is young yet.” The boys hushed for a few minutes, but soon erupted in sword fights with fallen branches and imaginations run amok. Floren took a deep breath, but let it pass. The elder elf did not even twitch.

After Floren cleaned up, and before she could call the boys in and wake the sleeper, the ground began to tremble. The quake came. The boys screamed, and Inaros had no trouble waking.

“Hold on to your feet!” Inaros shouted when his eyes popped open. Floren literally bounced her way to where the boys trembled on their hands and knees. David and Oren looked scared, and rightly so, but also excited as if this shaking, in a way, was fun. Alden appeared simply frightened out of his wits, so it was toward Alden that Floren made her way. She hugged the boy when she got there, and Alden grabbed on for dear life, even as the shaking quit. It rumbled again, and after a few minutes, a third time. It brought an evergreen down not far away, but then it seemed over.

“Everyone still whole or have you all shaken to bits?” Inaros called out since they were out of sight behind some trees.

“Okay.” David yelled.

“All ship shape,” Floren said. She had clearly been thinking about going to sea and no doubt wondered how they were going to go under the sea to the Golden Palace of Amphitrite.

“Glad to hear it.” Inaros appeared tall, leaning on his staff and he grinned at them as they were still splayed across the ground. “I should say we had best get going. No telling when the next ground buster will strike.” Floren agreed and got right up. The boys bounced up, except Alden who did not like the term ground buster. They walked, the boys sometimes out front and sometimes following, but never far away, and always elf quiet, a condition Floren imposed on them lest she magically zipper their mouths.

When she had a moment where Inaros’ ears were all hers, she spoke what pressed on her mind. “That quake felt worse than the night before. I thought aftershocks were supposed to be less intense than the original.”

“Eh?” Inaros spoke rather loudly. Floren had to repeat herself with some volume, and unfortunately, David heard and came to join them. Oren and Alden were not far behind.

“But you see.” Inaros raised his hands, staff and all. “Sometimes there are small preliminaries before the big eruption!” He raised his hands to express such and mimed an explosion, but quickly returned the staff to the ground before he stumbled. That was not what anyone wanted to hear, and after that Floren decided not to ask any more questions.

David did smell the sea before he saw it. It smelled of salt-brine and centuries of seaweed. It remained a good deal below their elevation. He could only hear the dull roar of breakers against rocks in the eternal dance that would one day turn rocks to sand and drag the sand down into the deeps. The small river they followed dropped out of sight at that point into an ever-deepening gorge that it had carved over the centuries and that brought it swiftly to the sea. It looked like an excited lover who could not suffer a gentle slope. David did not know if their path would take them to an easier decline to the sea, but he knew the small river would get there first.

“Ah! The Western Cliffs,” Inaros announced. He took a great whiff of the air. “Sadly, my nose is not as it was.” He touched his nose. “Despite the fact that my nose appears to have grown larger.”

David looked, carefully around. They stood amidst the kind of shrubs and hardy grass that can only prosper in a salty mist, and it appeared that they had indeed come to some cliffs. The sea came in waves, a sheer thirty feet or more below them.

“All I sbell is rotten kelp.” Oren held his nose to exaggerate his expression of disgust.

“Seal People!” Floren interrupted.

“Where?” Oren and Alden together drowned out David’s, “What?” The young elf and brownie nudged right up to the edge to see. David went a bit more careful, and Inaros came to put his arm around the young man and point with his staff while he spoke.

“No one knows where they came from. Like the Centaurs of old, the Were and Mere people and others, some think they came from the stars, you know, another world altogether. See how the young frolic in the shallows. The birthing happened earlier this spring. Look, there.” Inaros raised his staff and pointed, but David was already looking where several of the hundreds that littered the beach, stood up, suddenly having legs and arms, and appeared to be in the shape of men. “Sailors used to fear the seal people, though I suppose that is like saying water is wet. Sailors generally fear anything different and strange. They are a very superstitious lot.”

“But are they seals or people?” David asked.

“Hard to say,” Inaros answered. “They have always kept to themselves and communicating with them has been a rare event. I understand your father, when he was Gerraint, he spoke with them once on an isle off the north coast of Scotland, but that was before my time.”

David looked down at the stone and sand, a very narrow strip at the base of the cliff. It looked gray in appearance, even as gray as the clouds that were beginning to gather overhead to dim the light of the sun. As such, the seals were very hard to see—unless they moved.

“They are also very seal-like.” Inaros appeared to be thinking out loud. “They fall prey to sharks like any seal and have never seen fit to make tools to defend themselves, though from all accounts, they could. But who can know the mind of such a strange creature?” The elf patted David on the shoulder and David thought, look who’s talking.

There came a rumbling sound from down the beach and Alden leapt back from the lip of the cliff in fear that the Earth might start shaking again.

“Cyclops!” Oren shouted and pointed in excitement even as his sister dragged him back from the edge.

David saw the Cyclops. It had to be more than twenty feet tall, and looked human enough, or something like a giant apart from the one bulbous eye in the center of the forehead. It appeared naked, but its hand, three fingers and a thumb, held fast to a club as big as a tree. David needed no encouragement to get back from the edge of the cliff, and on second thought, he imagined even Bert the giant would look like a shrimp next to this monstrosity. In a moment, it got worse.

The Cyclops opened its mouth and let out a glob of drool that fell, a bucketful that strung almost to his feet. Then he spoke. “I smell me seal meat for me supper.” The voice boomed. The eye scanned the rocks where the seal people were already evacuating the beach with all haste. But there were many young among them that could hardly move fast and so Floren moved fast for them. Before the Cyclops could bend down or lift his club for a smashing blow, an arrow shot out from the cliff top and pierced the creature’s ear. The Cyclops swatted at the sting, like a man might swat at an annoying insect, and the second arrow struck like a thorn in his hand. The Cyclops turned his head and David turned to run. He missed seeing the third arrow that just missed the creature’s big eye.

“Waaa! I see me wee folk for me desert.” The Cyclops roared and the club came faster than David would have thought possible for such a lumbering beast. It struck some on the side and some on the top of the cliff and broke loose several David sized boulders that crumbled like dust to the monster’s feet. “I be getting wee folk and eating wee folk.” The Cyclops roared again, but since his head stayed below the cliff top, and since the travelers ran, the impact of that roar did not sound as strong as the first. Then David turned and saw a great hand rise-up and slap down on the cliff top to search for wee ones to grab and gobble. With all his running, David got just barely far enough away so as not to be caught.

“Which way?” Floren asked, the bow still in her hand.

“Inland,” Inaros said. “But it will still follow, and even if we reach the trees, it will simply brush them aside to get at us.” Inaros seemed exceptionally sharp in the face of danger, and while it encouraged David who had been thinking of him as a doddering old man, what Inaros said did not encourage David at all.

“If I may suggest.” The voice came from roughly two feet off the ground in the direction of the river where it first started to carve the gorge down through the cliffs. David looked hopefully at the little man, but Floren held David back. She looked wary. “Old one-eye can’t get his hammy hands down into the gorge in most places and there’s caves near the bottom where we can be out of his reach altogether.”

“Mickey O’Mac!” Inaros knew the little one, and Floren relaxed, but just a little.

Mickey O’Mac leapt to the nearest boulder not yet swallowed by the running river and the boys all laughed because it made him look like his head stuck up out of the ground. “Well?” He disappeared down the gorge.

“Come on,” Inaros said, with a glance at the cliff’s edge.

The Cyclops had both hands up on the top by then with one up to the elbow. It had started to pull itself up and that terrible one eye was about to get a good look. Inaros hurried them, and they stepped out into the river and began to climb down among the rocks. They tried to keep out of the swirls, jetties, and avoid the mini waterfalls that followed the precipitous drop to the sandy beach below.

Golden Door Chapter 12 Beth through the Mist, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Beth felt very shy in the presence of these perfect specimens of the female nature. All the same, she smiled. She felt she could hardly help it, though it came as much from relief as anything else. She could not imagine these women meant her any harm.

“I said she was nice,” Daffodil reminded the others.

“Yes, you did.” Mistletoe spoke before the others could respond, and she smiled to match Beth’s smile, but that made Mistletoe’s beauty almost too much for Beth to bear. She nearly fainted and only got hold of herself when a thought crossed her mind.

“But where is Holly?” she asked.

“I’m up here!” Holly’s sweet little voice came down from an upper tree branch. Beth looked, but she could not find the girl. “Mistletoe says I can’t show myself unless I get big.”

Beth looked again at Mistletoe with the question written all over her face. “What does she mean, get big?” Mistletoe turned to the treetop and the look on her face appeared stern. Beth’s eyes wandered down the row of other girls, but they betrayed nothing, except Daffodil, who tried not to giggle. Beth remembered Mrs. Aster and realized that these must be more fairies. “I don’t mind if she stays little,” Beth said out loud.

“Goody!” Holly shrieked and a flash of light shot out of the tree to hover between Beth and Mistletoe. Beth got a good look. Holly appeared a pretty little fairy, and more fitting with Beth’s imagination, having bumble bee type wings and being about seven or eight inches tall. She fluttered her wings with a speed too quick to see except as a blur. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind,” Holly said, joyfully.

“Holly!” It sounded like Mistletoe’s scolding voice, but Holly whipped around and faced the woman. She placed her little fists on her sides and spoke defiantly.

“Just because you’re the big sister, doesn’t give you all the say so.”

“But wait,” Beth said. “Mrs. Aster. The hippogriff.”

“We made this mist to hide you from the hippogriff,” Hyacinth said.

“Lady Alice came to us in the night and told us you were coming. We are to go to the Castle above, I believe.” Mistletoe spoke graciously. She tried to keep the seriousness in her voice, but the joy which she embodied could not be kept down. Beth looked up once again and collapsed because of the vision of loveliness.

“What is it?” Holly asked in sudden concern and fluttered right up to Beth’s ear.

“You are all so beautiful,” Beth breathed to the little one. “I feel so ordinary.”

“Is that all?” Zinnia heard every whispered word.

“Why, that’s easy,” Daffodil said.

“It is a cloak we wear,” Mistletoe said. She stepped near to lift Beth by the arm. “We hardly think of it unless we are traveling on the earth. We take it off then for our own protection.”

“It does strange things to human men,” Holly said, as she came to rest on Beth’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing. She held on to Beth’s hair in case Beth should move suddenly.

“It drives them mad with desire,” Zinnia confided, and she and Holly giggled a little like any young girls might. Beth knew then that they were the youngest.

With Beth standing again, Mistletoe took a step back. “Let me show you.” She did, and she changed in some imperceptible way, but when Beth looked, to be honest, she hardly noticed a change. Mistletoe looked as beautiful as ever which Holly confirmed with a whisper in Beth’s ear.

“Isn’t she a stinky-stinker.”

By then, the other girls crowded around. Hyacinth had already picked up a leaf of some sort and Zinnia had picked up a stick. “All right,” Mistletoe said and let her cloak come back. She reached for a flower, but Daffodil made them wait while she retrieved a little water from a nearby stream.

“Goody,” Holly shouted. She vacated the shoulder and pelted Beth with some kind of dust. The others touched her and pressed up against her with their things while Daffodil anointed the top of her head; and they sang the most lilting, sweetest tune which made Beth want to cry and smile for joy at the same time.

“Okay,” Mistletoe said suddenly. “Done.”

“Oh, yes.” Holly hovered up in Beth’s face. “Now you are very beautiful.”

“But can I take it off?” Beth wondered, thinking of what Holly and Zinnia said about the strange things it did to men.

“Of course, you have to decide is all.”

Beth took a deep breath and tried. It worked, and she could put the beauty back on as well. Then she let out her breath in a great exhale while Holly clapped in joy. The others seemed equally delighted until Mrs. Aster showed up. Then all together, the fairies dropped their eyes and curtsied, Holly curtsying in mid-air.

“Well,” Mrs. Aster said sternly. “I see you have shared the important thing with our young charge.”

“Yes, mum.” The girls echoed each other.

“And this cloak of beauty is going to take us to the castle in the sky?”

“No mum.” They echoed again after they thought about it.

“How could it?” Daffodil asked.

“Indeed!” Mrs. Aster scolded, but Beth could tell that she really liked the girls. “Beth, dear, there is nothing as flighty and frivolous as the mind of a fairy, and rather shallow when it comes to young fairy women.” The fairies all cringed a bit; even Mistletoe. “And I ought to know since I am a fairy. And I was young once too, believe it or not.” Beth hid her grin, but the other fairies all looked up with expressions of surprise on their faces. They had been responding to Mrs. Aster like a grumpy schoolteacher and never thought that she was a female fairy too.”

“Were you really young once?” Holly asked with appropriately big eyes.

“Yes, Holly dear,” Mrs. Aster said in a voice that Beth thought sounded remarkably like Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. Beth only avoided saying, “Toto too.”

“And now that we are all here.” Mrs. Aster looked around to be sure all the girls were paying attention. “We must release Beth’s wings.”

“Wings?” Beth started and Zinnia and Hyacinth reacted with the same word.

“I think she means we must give her flight,” Mistletoe explained, and looked at Mrs. Aster who nodded her approval of the explanation.

“Please get little,” Mrs. Aster added and suddenly Beth became surrounded with a troop of flitting, fluttering little ones who began to sing again, a chanting song, while they pelted her with gold dust, or fairy dust, or anyway, something like dust. Beth sneezed because they used so much of it, and she started to protest, but fell silent when she lifted two feet off the ground, and she did not even have to think a happy thought.

“Come on-y,” Holly chirped, and raced up to the treetops. Hyacinth and Daffodil were already ahead of her, and Zinnia spun happily around Beth’s head. Beth rose more slowly and Mrs. Aster stayed right beside her. Mistletoe kept back as well. Beth could not hold back the smile that came to her lips. The feeling of being weightless, or rather being able to fly felt like a heady experience. Then again, when they started to rise above the treetops, Beth decided not to look down.

“Bring her along, and don’t dawdle,” Mrs. Aster said. “I think I better go ahead and see if the way is clear.” With that, Mrs. Aster shot up and off like a rocket and Beth watched until the little fairy vanished in a cloud. It did not occur to her then just how sharp her eyes had become. She thought instead about being left with a bunch of flighty fairies. She looked at Mistletoe, but Mistletoe simply smiled at her and said nothing.

Golden Door Chapter 12 Beth through the Mist, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Mrs. Aster fluttered by Beth’s ear as Beth stepped into the forest. The fairy allowed her butterfly wings to gently undulate against the slight breeze. The trees in that place looked widely spaced, and there were flowers and soft grass more than leaves and prickly bushes beneath Beth’s feet. It looked to her like a haphazard orchard rather than a natural wood, and Beth expected the trees would peter out altogether not too far along. She imagined they would give way to some flower filled meadow if not a field of grain.

“I do not like that sound,” Mrs. Aster said quietly, after a short way. “I do not like it at all.”

“What sound?” Beth asked with a bit too much volume, and as she said it, she heard it, not by the sound, but by its sudden absence. Mrs. Aster just looked at her, sternly.

“And I don’t like the fact that our way is bringing us closer,” she whispered. “Perhaps I had better look ahead.”

“No?” Beth did not know what else to say, but now that she recognized the heavy breathing in the distance, she had no desire to be left alone.

Mrs. Aster nodded, and Beth wondered if the fairy felt some of the same desire to stick together. “Hush!”

Beth stopped and turned her eyes from the fairy to look ahead. It took a moment to piece together what she saw. Unlike the lion-dragon-goat thing that Chris had ferreted out the night before, this creature appeared mostly horse, though the head and claws looked more like an eagle as did the wings, obviously, since horses normally did not have wings.

“Mutant,” Beth called it. She was at that time first wondering how she could get to the castle in the clouds, and she briefly imagined that this might be the answer, though she hardly imagined herself as being comfortable on the back of such a creature.

“Hippogriff,” Mrs. Aster named it. “A meat eater,” she added as she appeared to want Beth to back away, slowly. Beth had already decided to do that very thing, but somehow the creature detected the motion and turned one big eye in their direction. “Fly!” Mrs. Aster shouted as the hippogriff broke into a run and headed straight for them. Beth ran. Mrs. Aster was the one who flew, and surprisingly, she flew straight at the beast before she veered off at the last minute. The eagle head took a half-hearted snap at the fairy, but then its wings opened-up and it took to the air in pursuit.

Beth kept running, until she came to a mist which came up out of nowhere and enveloped her. She stopped, almost afraid to continue into who knew what. Beth squinted and waved her hand, but the mist just swirled in place. It seemed thick, like a cloud come down to earth. She could barely see inches in front of her face. “Hello,” she called out rather quietly and at once saw a light through the fog. It flickered brightly for a moment and quickly faded.

Beth wanted to run to the light, but held her feet to a careful pace, even when the light appeared to float deeper into the recesses. She imagined she saw a figure too, possibly a woman. It seemed hard to tell from the shape, but it vanished altogether after her first step. Two steps into the mist and Beth had no idea where she started. She almost panicked and believed for a second that the light and misty figure might be luring her in for some nefarious purpose. Beth took a deep breath and tried to execute a full turn. After two steps, she realized she missed her target and decided to call out.

“Mrs. Aster,” she called, but again not too loud. Something about her misty surrounding required quiet and respect, like silence should be the norm and reverence the rule. There came no response, and Beth felt a little sick to her stomach at the thought that she got utterly lost after just two steps. “Mrs. Aster,” she called again with some sharpness, as if to suggest that this was not a time for fooling around, and then she had another thought. “Light? Hello, who is there?” She spoke to the figure she had seen on the chance that the figure might respond, and not want to eat her.

“Hello.” The figure did respond, and Beth jumped. Despite the hope that someone, that anyone might be there, she expected no answer.

“Who is there?” Beth asked quickly.

“Who is there?” The voice asked in return. It sounded like a woman’s voice, and Beth might have imagined an echo except the quality of the voice was decidedly not hers. This woman’s voice sounded beautiful, sweet, kind, suggestive of hidden depths, old, but quite young at the same time. It felt confusing.

“I asked first,” Beth retorted; but then she thought she ought to be more polite to a potential savior. “My name is Beth.”

“Mine is Mistletoe,” The response came, and it got followed immediately by another, sweeter, much younger voice.

“Mine’s Holly,” the voice said, and there came a flash of light which seemed to buzz around Beth’s head for a second before it vanished into the mist.

“But I can’t see you.” Beth insisted. A little concern about the mysterious flashing light crept into her voice. She felt simply fear of the unknown because she did not feel threatened in the least. It seemed as if the fog acted like a protective blanket to keep her warm and safe regardless of what might be out there, hippogriffs or otherwise. “Where are you?”

Beth moved carefully in the fog from the same fear of the unknown, but here she imagined very real dangers from being unable to see, like falling into a hole or a pit or falling off a cliff.

“Over here,” Mistletoe said. “I see you perfectly well.”

“Is she safe?” Beth heard a third voice.

“I think so Zinnia,” Mistletoe said.

“I think she’s nice.” Holly voted for her. Beth thought, Hurray!

“I do too.” That sounded like yet another voice. How many of them were there?

“Daffodil. You think everyone is nice.” A fifth voice spoke.

“I do not.” Daffodil defended herself with some grump in her voice.

“Hyacinth is right,” Mistletoe said. “You do think everyone’s nice, but Daffodil is usually right.”

“Come on-y,” Holly said. “Just a bit further.”

One step more and Beth arrived in a completely different clearing in the forest. One moment she walked mired in fog and the next she got utterly free and stood amidst trees so tall she could not see the tops. The early morning sun, colored green by the leaves, broke through here and there in streaks of light that reached the forest floor, and looked like golden streaks on a canvas. The birds, which she had not heard through the mist, were in full song and danced among the branches. Beth found herself facing the four most beautiful young women she had ever seen. She had to catch her breath because their beauty appeared almost unbearable. She swallowed hard and tried not to stare, and finally forced herself to look down at her feet where she saw stones just behind her heels. In fact, she stood in a stone circle of some sort, though she had no idea what the significance of that might be.

“Welcome.” Beth heard Mistletoe’s voice and looked up again. The woman looked about her age, or perhaps a little older, dressed in a medieval foot-length dress which fit her very well. Her long raven hair fell to her waist and gold sparkles flashed in green eyes which looked warm and welcoming as well as a little mysterious in their depths. The eyes looked as confusing as the voice, and Beth decided that while Mistletoe looked to be about twenty, there was something in her which felt much older. The same could be said for the other girls, though they appeared more like they were seventeen or eighteen, and one perhaps sixteen.

“I am Mistletoe.” Mistletoe continued to speak when Beth failed to respond right away. “And these are Hyacinth, Daffodil and Zinnia.”

“G-good to know you,” Beth stammered.

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

MONDAY

Beth receives the gift of flight and just in time because David and his friends suffer an earthquake while on their way to the sea. Until Next Time, Happy Reading.

*

Golden Door Chapter 11 Chris in the Dark, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

When he came to the actual end of the tunnel, he came to a tremendous underground cavern. Chris could neither see the far walls nor the ceiling, so he wondered how big the cavern might be. Then he heard something he had not expected—the sound of water, waves breaking on a shoreline, and it sounded close. He stepped into the light.

Two braziers stood against the stone wall, and the shoreline of some underground sea looked hardly fifty feet away. The water appeared black dark and hard to see, even with his night eyes, but at that point on the shore, it looked as if someone built a kind of dock made of stone. He looked over the water and thought there might be something out there, far off. He imagined it was not likely the other side of the sea, but perhaps an island of some sort. He squinted and tried to focus when someone grabbed him by the arms from behind.

“Got him,” a male voice said. Chris did not struggle, because he saw a female step into his line of vision, and for a moment her red hair appeared to be on fire, though otherwise she looked very attractive.

“Who are you?” The woman asked.

“Chris, and you?” Chris spoke as calmly as he could.

The woman looked young. Chris guessed her to be about his age or a little older when she cocked her head to get a good look at him before she answered. “Heathfire. And my companion is Broomwick.”

“Well, you must be good at sneaking up on people because I didn’t see you at all.”

Heathfire looked at Chris like he had to be dumb. “We were in the braziers. Duh!”

“I’m sorry?” Chris did not understand.

“Hey! We are supposed to be asking the questions. Now, where did you come from?”

“Home, originally,” Chris answered. “I came down the tunnel with Deathwalker. The troll road.”  He pointed with his head.

“Deathwalker?” Broomwick slackened his grip, but he did not let go. Heathfire appeared curious as if she knew something, but it would not come together in her mind.

“Yeah,” Chris said. “I haven’t done anything if that is what you’re thinking.”

“Hey! You there!” The shout came from behind them.

“Chris!” Heathfire suddenly shouted. “You’re the Storyteller’s son.”

“I am?” Chris smiled as Broomwick let go and even took a moment to straighten out Chris’ shirt where he had wrinkled it.

“Sorry,” Broomwick said. “Just doing my job you understand. Guarding the wharf and all that. All okay?” Broomwick did not wait for an answer. He became a ball of flame and rushed back to one of the braziers while Heathfire laughed.

Deathwalker came up beside Chris and made sure no damage got done. He gave Heathfire a stern look, which she ignored.

“First stranger in a month and it turns out to be you, and we even knew you were coming.”

“Did he just go on fire?” Chris asked.

Heathfire nodded. “He’s a fire sprite. So am I,” she said. “I take it you’re human, mortal I mean.” Chris returned her nod.

“Now, young woman.” Deathwalker started, but Heathfire interrupted.

“Put it out, Gramps.”

“We need a ship.” Deathwalker finished his thought. “And young man, you might as well join us.” He spoke to the brazier and a flame face with a slightly worried expression stuck up for a second before it scooted away from the brass and took the shape of a burly young man.

“Sorry,” Broomwick said.

“You already said that.” Heathfire teased.

“No, I mean sorry. There haven’t been any ships in dock since that one, you know, took over.”

“That’s right.” Heathfire looked serious for a minute. “And no relief, either. I swear, if I ingest another faggot of charcoal I’ll up-chuck.”

“Charming thought,” Chris said. He wondered what a fire sprite might throw up.

Heathfire stepped close. She took Chris’ hand, and he felt a momentary spark between them which made Chris blink and Heathfire smile.

“Most guys think I’m pretty hot. What about you?” She looked at him in a way which only a fool could misunderstand.

“An understatement,” Chris said, diplomatically. Heathfire giggled, but Chris could feel the heat coursing through his hand.

“Ahem!” Deathwalker interrupted. “We need to get to the island of the castle,” he said. “Our mission is to set Lord Deepdigger free of his enchantment and set the women free as well, if possible.”

“Just the two of you?” Heathfire let go of Chris’ hand, stepped back and covered her giggle. “I mean, Kairos’ son and all, but still.”

“I’ll help,” Broomwick stepped forward. Chris looked at him. “Least I can do,” he admitted.

“Thanks.” Chris offered his hand.

“Me, too,” Heathfire said. She put her hand up like a real volunteer and let her eyes roll up toward the ceiling to suggest that she still thought they were crazy. “Maybe we can at least find something better to eat.”

“May I come?” All four turned to see an ugly old woman stand in the shadows by the sea. Chris did not understand, but Heathfire screamed, Deathwalker gripped Chris’ arm with something of an iron grip, and Broomwick rushed for the comfort of his brazier.

The old woman appeared to have risen-up out of the underground sea.

“Hag.” Deathwalker whispered the name of the thing, and as he spoke, the old woman cackled and began to change. She very quickly became seven feet tall and appeared to be covered with prickly, matted hair or fur. The monster looked incredibly strong. Chris especially did not like the way she or it drooled while looking at him.

“Stoked up.” They heard Broomwick’s voice behind them. “Football tackle,” Broomwick yelled, as he shot out of the brazier, a streak of flame, and set the creature on fire. To Chris’ dismay, far from being hurt, the creature seemed to revel in the flames, grew another foot taller and appeared stronger than ever.

“Football tackle.” Deathwalker repeated Broomwick’s words and yanked on Chris’ arm. To be sure, Chris would have rather run in the opposite direction, but he could hardly let Deathwalker tackle the monster alone. Deathwalker might have been far stronger than he looked, but he was not nearly strong enough to take down that beast alone; so, Chris ran beside Deathwalker, and together they bumped the beast while it was still distracted and reveling in the flames. It swatted them both aside like two troublesome insects, but it also lost its balance for a second.

A new figure, someone much bigger than Chris hit the off-balance beast, and though even the hulking person had only a little effect on the monster, it became enough to knock the beast over. The hag fell back into the sea and screamed at the last second when she realized she would hit the water. The fire with which the beast became covered, the fire that made the beast grow in size and strength, got doused all at once in a great cloud of steam, and the cavern filled with the agonizing screams of death. Chris could not tear his eyes away. Almost as quickly as the old woman transformed into the frightening monster, so now the monster changed back partially into the woman. Then the arms and legs, chest and face of the old woman collapsed and sank, in a sense imploded. It looked as if the bones and muscles which had once given the body shape had been liquefied and could no longer hold the skin to that shape. When it was over, Chris saw very little of the hag that remained afloat. He saw less than an oil slick on the surface of the water.

“My thanks,” Deathwalker said. Chris looked. Their help had not been Broomwick in solid form, and certainly not Heathfire who spent those few short moments trying hard not to scream again. This brute looked young, had fangs for teeth and claws for hands, but he grinned and shook Deathwalker’s hand, so Chris imagined he might not be too bad.

Golden Door Chapter 11 Chris in the Dark, part 1 of 2

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Chris followed Deathwalker into the darkness, and immediately the golden door vanished, exactly as Chris expected. He stopped, placed his hand on the goblin’s shoulder so the goblin would stop with him, and he looked all around the tunnel they were in. They had absolutely no light of any kind in that place, but Chris could see almost like mid-day. The colors were all a little different, what colors there were, but he could identify all of them, along with a few shades he was not sure he had ever seen before.

“It’s as bright as day in here,” he said.

“Bright as night,” Deathwalker corrected.

Chris nodded that he understood. “But which way?” The tunnel stretched as far as they could see to their right and left and eventually faded back into the true darkness in which it actually existed.

“Hard to say.” Deathwalker shook his head. “This looks like a troll road, but they are not like dwarfs, not big on signposts, or reading and writing for that matter.”

“A troll road?”

“Yes,” Deathwalker nodded. “Only hope they don’t charge too much for using it.” He chuckled at the over-worn joke. Chris groaned at the bad pun but wondered if they might have some troll house cookies. He held his tongue.

“I hate to split right at the beginning,” Deathwalker said. “But with the earth shake last night, we might find the tunnel blocked one way or the other.”

“I think we should stick together,” Chris said quickly.

“But we could take maybe a half hour and see where things lead,” Deathwalker tried.

“No. I insist.” Chris sounded adamant. “We stick together. Let’s go this way.” He picked a direction on a whim and did not want to hear about separating. Sight or no sight, he was not about to be left alone in an underground tunnel, and maybe especially if it was a troll road.

“Good enough.” Deathwalker shrugged. “In this world, all roads eventually lead to Rome, if you catch my meaning.” Chris imagined he meant the underground castle, and he nodded, but for the moment, he concentrated on keeping his eyes and ears open. They walked, but after about twenty minutes of silence, Deathwalker opened up.

“Now, be sure you call me Deathwalker, even if some others add an honorific.” he started. “That is what I tell all my students. Besides, we in the under place don’t put so much stock in formalities like the upper people and high elves.” He said “high elves” like that might not be the best of things to be. “Sometimes hobs get high and mighty, but no one much likes the hobs.”

“Hobs?” Chris found the sound of Deathwalker’s voice comforting, and the conversation kept his imagination from running too far ahead.

“Hobgobs. Hobgoblins. The ones your dad once took from the land of the dead and made able to stand the light of day, poor gob.”

“I imagine not everyone would say, poor gob,” Chris interjected.

“No, I suppose you’re right,” Deathwalker admitted. “Some might even call him improved with all that. Your dad, when he lived as the Lady Xiang, did that. She had gone to the place of the dead and the gob worked on staff to torment the wicked people that went to that particular place. Of course, she went there by mistake, and she proved her case by taking the poor gob and turning him into a hob. But, yes, well…” Deathwalker changed the subject. “To understand the feeling of some of us, you honestly have to see the world below, to know the beauty, to recognize the glory of life as we see it. There is no sight so glorious as a new moon and the stars blasting in the heavens, or the full moon, making the most delicious shadows for dancing, almost like the shadows got a life all their own.” Deathwalker smiled and appeared to remember some specific memory.  “I suppose some do,” he added, as a mumble. Of course, presently, Chris’ only experience of the dark world consisted of a rather plain and long tunnel. Then Deathwalker spoke again. “When that big blaster of a sun comes out, it ruins everything and makes it hard to tell the difference between here and there, it does.” He shivered a little just at the thought of all that brightness.

“So, you’re a goblin, then,” Chris guessed, but he was wondering.

“Dark elf.” Deathwalker nodded. “That is sort of the generic name some use. Goblin, troll, hobgoblin, and all sorts of others, breeds, in-betweens and on. Your dad’s little ones come in all shapes and sizes, and some prefer the light, and some prefer the dark, and then the dwarfs and such, I suppose, are the real betwixt and betweeners.” Deathwalker rubbed his chin as he tried to sort it out in his own mind. Chris thought it sounded simple enough, but then he probably did not know enough about it to be confused. Instead, he had a question.

“What do you mean, little ones? I’ve heard the term, and you also said spirits?”

“Sure,” Deathwalker said before he looked up at Chris and quickly shook his head. “Not ghosts. I don’t mean that kind of spirit.” Chris looked relieved. “It means by nature we are actually spiritual creatures and not actually flesh and blood. We get to put on flesh and blood for a while, though. We get born, grow old, and in time all of us gives up the flesh again in what you humans call death, but for us it is really just a return to our natural state.”

“Why?”

“Well, because a spirit alone is deaf, dumb and blind. No eyes and ears, you know. We all got work to do, like a purpose for being, and for most of us little spirits that involves working in the natural world of earth, air, fire, and water. Some, like some elves, might tend to hearth and home, but mostly it is with the earth and nature. By putting on flesh we can see what we are doing if you follow me. We can hear, taste, touch, and smell, like now. I smell a charcoal fire burning somewhere ahead.” They stopped walking. They were at a point where the tunnel split in two directions.

Chris spoke quickly as they paused. “But why little spirits?”

“Because above us there are the lesser spirits, and then greater spirits, and above them, the gods of old. Of course, the gods dealt mostly with humans in the old days, you know, like with love and war and such. But then, they all went over to the other side, which is to say, they gave up their flesh and blood two thousand years ago or so, except this one in the castle who seems to have escaped the time of dissolution.”

“Why?” Chris asked again.

“Because she is rotten and rebellious, to say the least.” He paused because of the look on Chris’ face. “Oh, I see. The gods gave up their position because the humans became mature enough to come under new management, so to speak, though my experience with humans has not shown me much maturity. No offense.”

“But—”

“Now, son. I know you are avoiding the inevitable and want us to stick together, but we need to separate here for a bit. Don’t be long and don’t take any more turns. In fact, if you come to another dividing of the ways, come back here. Meanwhile, I’ll just pop down this way and have a quick look and meet you back at this spot. Okay?”

Chris did not argue, but he did not like it. Anyway, he hardly had time to argue before Deathwalker scooted off, and Chris reminded himself the goblin’s name really was Deathwalker. Chris swallowed, and began down his tunnel which took a long, slow turn around a corner. He saw the light ahead, but it looked like firelight, and it did not disturb his eyes or his vision of the underground. In a way, it enhanced his vision.

“Deathwalker’s charcoal fire,” he whispered to himself, and he snuck up for a closer look. “The light at the end of the tunnel,” he added.

Golden Door Chapter 10 James and the Tree part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The imp became the first to recover. “Aw. I’m not scared of her,” he said. He looked back at the twins for support, which they gave by nodding their heads, though they looked plenty scared.

Tekos turned serious. “She should scare you.” He whispered in a James sort of soft voice. Then he spoke up. “Back in the day, we were considered lesser gods, ourselves, though not immortal like the Gods, and yet this one even scares me.” It felt like a big admission.

“Well, we’re not afraid.” Grubby the imp tried again.

“I am,” James said. He remembered the witch and the arm half-way into the room, reaching for his neck. He shuddered.

“Me, too,” one of the dwarf twins admitted.

“And me, too,” the other echoed.

“We all are.” Mrs. Copperpot nodded and looked ever so stern. “But we still have to do what we can while we are able. The Lord Kairos is depending on us. There is no one else.” She paused to explain their mission to Tekos; that they were headed to the castle on the hill to try and set Lord Noen free and release the prisoners from the dungeon if they could.

With that said, Tekos leaned down to James and smiled, his wooden face crackling with the movement. He laid a gentle, though bark-rough hand against James’ cheek. “But I would not see you go defenseless into the lion’s den,” he said. He lifted his hand to James’ head, and his eyes went wide. “Son, I see that you have already been given every talent and connection to the dwarfs and those that walk the earth in between the light and the dark. There is much that you will have to discover and learn, but there is one thing I can activate in you.” He paused and appeared determined. “I have no authority to change you into a lion, you understand. I may not be able to affect the son of the Kairos at all, lesser god though I be. But I think it would be good to keep up with these other misbehavers, and glamour your way to the castle. Yes, I think you ought to be able to put on a good glamour when you have a mind.” He took his hand away as if already finished with his work, and the twins pushed forward.

“Try it out,” they echoed each other again.

James did not understand. “What’s a glamour?” he asked.

“An illusion,” Tekos responded.

“It’s how we move about sometimes when we are in substance form like now,” Mrs. Copperpot began to explain, but stopped when she saw it did not help.

Grubby pushed the twins back behind him and spoke. “Like when some human person comes tromping through the woods, and there isn’t time to go invisible-like, we make an illusion.” Grubby stepped back, and James suddenly saw a bush of thorns where the imp had been. “What dumb mortal is going to guess I’m not a real bush?” The bush finished the comment.

“Try it out,” the twins said again, though they kept back as if even they seemed reluctant to get too close to the thorns.

“It’s easy,” Grubby said, and he reappeared as the bush disappeared.

“But.”

“Just think about what you want to be,” Tekos said, gently. He laid a very long fingered hand on James’ shoulder.

“Just think,” Mrs. Copperpot urged. “But think with your belly, not with your head.” She stopped. She imagined she would confuse the boy again; but in this case, James understood what she said, or he thought he did. He did not think of it exactly. He more felt it. Then he was not there, but aware of the illusion which was a lion, and he roared loud enough to echo through the forest. The twins jumped behind a tree, and Grubby swallowed hard. Even Mrs. Copperpot looked startled, but Tekos merely smiled.

“And now the glamour will remain as long as you want,” Tekos explained while James licked his hand like Seabass his cat so often did; and the illusion lion licked its paw and looked every bit like a real lion. “You must think yourself James again to come back.”

The inevitable thought came. What If I can’t do that? But James tried, and it turned out to be very easy.

“That was great. I’m Picker.” The head stuck out from behind the tree.

“That was really great. I’m Poker.” The other called down from the third branch above. The young one quickly climbed down, while James studied them. He decided that apart from their short stature, not unusual for boys, the only way he could distinguish them from the purely human boys in his school was the fact that they both sported the beginnings of serious beards. Otherwise, they looked like perfectly normal, dark-haired, bright-eyed boys.

“’sall right,” Grubby admitted, but he looked impressed. Grubby, on the other hand, had a bulbous nose that seemed a bit too big for a human nose, and bulgy eyes which looked more nearly like little saucers. He did not exactly look non-human, but then he did not exactly look human, either.

James had a thought. “Will you come with us to the castle and help rescue everyone?” he asked before anyone could stop him.

“Oh, no, dear,” Mrs. Copperpot spoke quickly. “It’ll be dangerous enough just for the two of us.”

“Oh, please.” Tekos spoke almost as quickly. “My dear Mrs. Copperpot, you are a far better choice to watch these young ruffians than I. I understand the danger,” he assured her. “But if they do not go somewhere, I fear you may return to find no forest at all. You may find nothing but cinders.” He looked cross as he pulled a small broken branch from Poker’s shirt, and then snatched several light-anywhere matches from Grubby’s pocket with such speed and dexterity, the young imp could not do anything but shout.

“Hey!”

“Please, my dear Lady Copperpot. I must insist.” Tekos looked stubborn. One might say he looked rooted in that position.

“Yes, my Lord.” Mrs. Copperpot would not argue, but she had something more to say. “You three had better mind,” she insisted, shook her finger at them and lingered on the imp.

“We will.” Picker and Poker readily agreed, and even the imp nodded.

“Will you come with us?” James asked the dryad.

“Alas,” Tekos said in his most tender voice. “Apart from an invitation and under the protection of Lady Alice, the Kairos, your father, I cannot. Like the Naiads and their springs and grottos, and the Oreads and their stones and mountains, I am bound to the trees. I cannot go far from my roots, you see?”

“I see,” James said, but he felt disappointed to hear it. He imagined this great, tall tree-man might come in very handy against whatever they faced.

“Well, then,” Mrs. Copperpot said, as she came to grips with her extended responsibilities. “Let’s be off. Time is short, and there is a ways to go yet to reach the castle.” She reached out one hand, and the dwarf twins came forward. Grubby held back a bit, until James took the imp’s arm in encouragement. Grubby smiled.

“Son of the Kairos, indeed,” Tekos said, with his own creaking smile. He no sooner finished speaking, however, when the ground began to tremble. It felt like an aftershock from the previous night’s earthquake, perhaps, but this one felt stronger than the other, and it went on longer as well. Everyone fell to the ground. The twins crawled up beside the bigger dwarf, and the imp all but buried his head in the dirt. James tried not to scream, even as he tried not to get sick. The crashing of trees started in the forest, and the voice of Tekos rose-up.

“Hold to your roots! Keep a deep grip!” It felt hard to tell what or whom he spoke to as a nearby tree began to topple toward them. James got a good look, but afterwards, he could not say if the two big branches happened to be in the right place to catch the tree before it crushed them, or if the branches sort of grew and reached out to grab their fallen comrade. Then the earthquake subsided, and the earth stilled.

As soon as she caught her breath, Mrs. Copperpot stood. “Come,” she said. She looked up briefly as a shadow crossed the clearing. “Time is short.” The young ones followed, and only after reaching the path did James think to look back and say, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be a stranger.” James heard Tekos, either on the air or in his mind, but he could see nothing but trees.

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

MONDAY

Chris discovers there are dangers in the dark, and Beth could tell him there are dangers in the bright sunshine as well. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Golden Door Chapter 10 James and the Tree part 1 of 2

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James had to hustle to stay beside Mrs. Copperpot despite the dwarf’s short legs.  She did not ignore him, exactly, but she did not talk much, and she loved the brisk stroll through the old growth forest. James did not worry too much as long as he kept to the path, and as long as he could keep up, he would not complain. The trouble, of course, is dwarfs can walk at a spritely pace all day and all night without a stop, and James soon found his legs were not used to so much rapid walking.

He paused at one point to catch his breath and give his legs a breather as well. “Hey. Just a minute,” he said, but between his soft voice and Mrs. Copperpot’s elderly ears, they did not make contact. James bent down to tie his shoe and thought that the woman stopped, but when he looked up he did not see her.

He ran a little to catch her, but just around the corner, he came to a crossroads of a sort and felt stumped. He could neither see her nor hear her, and he felt afraid for a minute that he might be lost. Then he felt the urge and sniffed. Without hesitation, he knew exactly which way she went. James could never explain how that worked. He said, much later, that it seemed like a sixth sense, something Angel had given him, but in this case, since it was the first time he tried it, his mind filled with doubts. He started down that path, but then backed up to the crossroads, and thought that surely Mrs. Copperpot would notice his absence in a minute, and she would come back to that place to find him. He did not want to be wandering down the wrong path and miss her. His father always said if he got lost, he should stay where he was and wait for the others to find him.

James looked around and decided that apart from being a place where two paths through the forest crossed, nothing special stuck out about his location. There were trees, piles of old leaves, bushes, vines, and a few flowers all around him, but the paths seemed clear of debris and so he sat at the very cross of the crossroads and waited. He heard a rustling in the leaves and started; but it turned out to be a squirrel, as he guessed. The birds came out as well. He began to hum and then mouthed a few words. He moved his arms and elbows sharply back and forth as he sat.

“Now we’re not complaining, but there is still one thing remaining. For bread is quite boring if that’s all you eat.” He screamed. A vine came up from behind him and wrapped twice around his middle. James leaned forward to grab what he could, but the path was just dirt without even a protruding rock to hold on to, and the vine pulled him back among the trees.

“Help! Help!” James cried out, and he flipped around to see where he headed. He spied a fly trap type plant big enough to swallow him, but also a tree root that stuck up out of the ground. He grabbed the root and held on, and his motion toward that plant trap stopped while he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Help! Help!”

A man stepped out of the tree, or at least it looked like that to James. The man raised a staff of oak and spoke to the fly trap in some ancient language. The plant immediately burst into flames and withdrew the vine from James’ chest. The man spoke again, and the wind came and put the fire out lest the whole area of dead and dry leaves go up in flames. Then he grabbed James by the hand, without looking at the boy, and pulled him away.

“Come along you nuisance. Are you the imp or one of the twins?” James kept his mouth shut, but apparently, the man thought he was someone else. At last, they came to an area that could not be seen from the paths. Nothing grew in that spot other than sweet grass all the way around in a circle, and in the center of the circle of grass, a tremendous, thick, gnarled old oak grew in primeval splendor, taller than any of the other trees around. It looked like a hand reaching for the sun. “Now let’s see.” The man said, and he spun James around rather rudely; but paused when he got a good look. “Why, you’re neither imp nor dwarf,” he said. “If I did not know better, I would guess you were a mortal human, though I don’t suppose the creature in the castle would be daft enough to allow that to happen.”

“I’m James,” James said hopefully. He did not want to be cross with his savior despite the rough handling. The man turned James around for a thorough look, while James also examined the man close enough to realize that it was not a man. For one, the hair looked too thick, and the face and hands too scraggly, with warts that looked almost like tree knots, and skin that seemed a bit rough and brittle as well, like bark. Most of all, when the man finally stood upright, he apparently stood about ten feet tall, and that made James, who was short for his age, feel especially short.

“I am Tekos the Seventh, Lord of the Oak Wood,” the man said, and with hardly a breath, he added. “And you are mortal, human, aren’t you?”

James shrugged. He could not be sure what the Lord of the Oak was asking. “My father is the Kairos,” he said. He thought that meant something in this world, even if he did not exactly understand what it meant.

Tekos’ eyebrows lifted slowly, and James heard the sound of crackling wood. “I’ll bet the-should-be-gone goddess in the castle did not plan on this.” He smiled.

“No, sir,” James said, politely.

Suddenly, the man-creature softened and plopped down on the ground to speak to James more eye to eye. “You know my sire, the first Tekos by name, did your father a great favor in ancient times. He was rooted in Greece, not far from Athens, and he opened a way for some friends of your father so some of the little spirits could travel instantly from Greece back to their homes at the top of the Black Sea. Of course, your father was a god himself in those days, the Nameless god, but the story says he was very young and did not yet know how to do the work on his own.” James shook his head. He did not follow the story.

“James!” The call came from the path.

“Over here!” James shouted, in case this Tekos turned out to be not so nice as he seemed and tried to stop him from speaking. Then he explained. “Mrs. Copperpot. My, er, friend,” he concluded. He realized that he did not know what else to call her. She was not his babysitter or any such thing; certainly not his cook, though he would not have minded if she was. He supposed guide would have been a reasonable choice, but friend just seemed friendlier.

“I see,” Lord Tekos said, and crinkled those eyebrows up once again. He called out himself. “James is here, and safe!”

A moment of crunching through the bushes followed. James thought that surely Mrs. Copperpot would not make all that noise, when he saw her holding a youngster by the ear and followed by two other boys of some sort that had their heads down like they had just survived a good scolding. He heard the one in her grip.

“Ow! I tell you, ow!”

 “Quiet, Grubby,” Mrs. Copperpot said, in a voice not to be argued with. “You behave or I’ll twist the ear right off. And you two, Picker and Poker, I expect better from you than to hang around with wayward imps!”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The two boys in Mrs. Copperpot’s train spoke in unison, but neither raised his head.

“James!” Suddenly the imp got dropped and forgotten as Mrs. Copperpot raced forward to embrace the boy. James did not mind the hug, but he felt a bit uncomfortable as well. He decided it would be all right provided she did not start slobbering over him like a seldom seen grandmother. Besides, the hug felt brief as Mrs. Copperpot turned quickly to Tekos who had stood to his full height and towered over them all. “Lord Dryad.” The dwarf curtsied.

“Lady. Have I the honor of addressing the great Lady Copperpot of the golden cauldron?”

“I wouldn’t say great, your worship.” Mrs. Copperpot turned her head, shyly, and curtsied a little once more. Tekos merely smiled before he turned on the three youngsters.

“And you, you rascals.” Tekos eyes creaked down to slits as he peered at the three boys that James suddenly realized were not boys at all, though they appeared to be about his age. “Did you hear this fine lady? Your behavior is in need of repair, lest you call attention to yourselves and the creepy thing in the castle grab you.” The way Tekos said creepy thing sent chills down James’ spine, and he saw it affected the others in a similar way.

Golden Door Chapter 9 David by the Pool

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David and Inaros walked through the hills on what appeared to be a path. David had not recognized it as a path at first because fallen leaves, stones, sticks and overgrowth completely covered it. They startled a few partridges right away. The birds took to the sky in a flurry of wings. After that, they saw more than their fair share of birds and squirrels, and one white tailed deer that scramble off into the trees at their approach. David kept his eyes open for bees and spiders, and his ears open for larger predators, but the area around him seemed quiet and peaceful, even tranquil in a way.

“I can almost smell the sea from here, boy. Do you smell it?” Inaros took a great whiff of air and let it out slowly. He walked on his own and had since he stopped trying to animate his words. He paused to lean on his cane.

“Sir?” David felt that word was appropriate. Inaros pointed. They had been following a stream for some time and slowly worked their way down hill. David looked, but all he could see was blue on the horizon.

Inaros spoke. “The trouble is always where does the sky end and the sea begin? Sailors know”

David looked again and he thought he saw a distant line separating the two. “I think I see it.”

“You will, boy. Practice with that nose and you will smell it, the smell of clams and brine of the salty sea. And practice with those ears and you may even be able to hear it crashing against the rocks from this far away. I know I don’t hear like I did when I was young, but even I can imagine hearing it from here.” He appeared rested and they started walking again. “It is Swift’s Gulliver, eh? And I am one of the Little People.” He laughed and slapped David on the shoulder. David laughed as well but looked up at the elf who stood considerably taller than himself.

After a time, they came to a short cliff and had to climb down carefully to the woods below. These woods seemed less inclined to be overgrown with burrs and pines, though the pines were still present, the trees had begun to thin out even more as they approached the salty air coming up off the distant water. The stream tumbled off the short cliff and crashed into a pool with a minimum of spray and foam because the cliff proved not terribly high. The pool looked like it churned the same water since the beginning of time.

“Time to rest.” Inaros announced, and David did not argue. The old elf probably needed a mid-morning nap.

“I’ll take the first watch, Captain,” David said with a short salute. He was a good sport and willing to indulge the gentleman who smiled and patted his shoulder.

“’Ware the Jabberwock, my son,” Inaros said, as he stepped heavily over to rest against a tree. Hardly a moment later, David heard the snores.

David wandered to where the stream came out of the pool and decided that it might be a very small river, being waist deep where he checked with a long stick, and it seemed twice the distance across than he could jump, even with a running start. He wanted to see how deep the pool might be, so he took his stick and poked, but he could hardly reach the center of the pool.

David looked at Inaros who slept peacefully. It would be June soon enough, and it warmed up nicely as they headed toward noon. David decided to slip off his shoes and socks and change his fairy weave long pants of the morning into shorts for the afternoon. With that, he waded out into the pool for some distance. He poked with the stick and tried to find the deepest spot. His stick brushed against a fish, and he scrambled out of the pool as fast as he could just on the general principal that he would be better safe than sorry. The fish came to the surface and poked its’ head out of the water to stare up at him.

“Ouch,” the fish said, and David felt too astonished for words. “Want to eat me?” The fish asked.  It looked like a very big, and apparently, a very old fish.

“What?”

“Eat me,” the fish repeated. “All of the wisdom and knowledge in the world is in my flesh.”

“I’m sorry?” David said. “I’ve never talked to a fish before.”

“Salmon,” the fish said. “I was going up-stream to spawn and die when Alice, the lady of the castle, put in this cliff and waterfall. I’ve been stuck here, down below for thousands of years.”

“Eat you?”

“I’m tired,” the salmon said. “I want to go over to the other side, but I don’t know the way. Someone has to cook me and eat me, and I promise all the wisdom and knowledge of the ages.”

“Stop it.” David felt sure the fish was lying to him.

“I’ll prove it!” The fish said, indignantly. “Touch me and lick your finger, and you will be able to teach your seventh-grade teachers a thing or too when you get back to school in the fall, I guarantee it.”

“How did you know I am going into the seventh grade?” David responded, sharply.

“I know all about you, David,” the salmon answered. “I had to do something to occupy my time while swimming around this pool for thousands of years. You think I am kidding about knowing everything?”

“Stop.” A young man of some sort stepped up beside David. “We don’t talk to fish, least of all Salmon know-it-alls.”

“Yeah!” A second young man who stepped up on David’s other side, agreed.

“Little bugs.” The fish spat at them. “If you won’t eat me, perhaps I should eat you.” The fish began to grow, like a blowfish, and as it swelled it came more and more out of the water. All three young men shrieked before the two on each side of David pulled on David’s hands to get him out of there. But David responded slowly, as if the fish had hypnotized him. The salmon’s mouth opened, and there were plenty of sharp teeth inside. In fact, the salmon began to look less like a salmon and more like a great white shark; but still David could hardly move. His feet felt glued in place.

An arrow shot out from the bank of the pool, followed by two darts and another arrow. Something must have struck home, because the fish immediately began to deflate, and as it did, David became able to break eye contact with the beast. He let the two boys, and he thought they were boys, lead him up the bank of the river pool. When he looked more closely, he saw three young people dressed in hunter green, and Inaros up, with the darts in his hand. The three newcomers smiled, and the young woman with the bow and arrows bowed slightly and nudged the two boys to tell them to do the same.

“Lord Inaros,” the young woman spoke. “I am pleased to see that you have not fallen into the clutches of the beast in the castle.”

“Hardly,” Inaros said. He leaned on his cane and returned his remaining darts to his pouch. “It would take more than a sea devil to trap these old bones. Er, Floren, isn’t it?”

“Exactly so,” Floren said with another slight bow, and David made note of the pointed ears and understood that this was another elf. “I also see that these are strange times, indeed, that you should travel about with a mere human from the Midgard lands.”

“Earth.” Inaros corrected the name. “And this is David, son of the Kairos.”

“Oh.” Floren went to one knee, but the boys grinned.

“I’m Oren,” one said and stuck out his hand which David gladly shook.

“I’m Alden,” the other spoke. He looked a little older. They seemed to David to be about James’ age, but when he remembered that Inaros claimed to be fifteen hundred years old he held his tongue. They were probably older than he was.

“David,” he said, and he gladly shook both hands.

“Up, up.” Inaros insisted, and Floren did rise but with a look at David to make sure it would be all right. “David’s a fine boy, and he doesn’t bite,” Inaros said. “But tell me, how is it you are free in this neck of the woods.”

“We were hunting.” Oren spoke right up. “And we were trying to get lost.”

“Why would you want to get lost?” David wondered.

“Elves don’t get lost,” Inaros whispered, a bit too loud.

“Young Lord,” Floren explained. “I was to babysit my younger brother and his friend. They were trying to lose me.”

“And we would have, too,” Alden insisted and folded his arms across his chest.

Floren ignored the boy. “And for a week, nearly ten days, we have been hiding out here by the pool. We have a small camp on the other side of the river, and fresh fish cooking for lunch.”

“Not salmon.” David wanted to be sure. Floren shook her head but smiled at the thought.

“Come on,” Oren yelled, and he tugged on David’s sleeve. He turned and ran with such speed he raced across the water and hardly got his feet wet. Alden ran right behind.

“I can’t do that,” David protested while Inaros winked at Floren, and she smiled. The next thing David knew, Inaros bonked him on the head with his cane, and not softly, and Floren whipped his bare legs with her bow, which stung, and his feet started to move. He ran across the top of the water and hooted the entire way, while Inaros and Floren watched. When David stopped, turned around and shouted.

“That was great!”

Floren waved and raced to his side faster than David could blink. Inaros picked up his cane, put one hand on his alpine hat, and crossed the top of the water in four quick, very leggy strides.

“Refreshing,” he said on the other bank. “But I am always hungry after a nap and a good run.” David did not hear. He ran off to find Oren and Alden, and laughed at the speed, and Floren went right behind him, thinking that now she had three young men to watch.

When the fish got ready, the boys climbed down out of the trees, and David finally tired of running around with super speed, they sat and had a good, if a bit early lunch.

“We are headed for the sea,” Inaros explained. “We hope to find a way to the Palace under the sea, set your father free of his enchantment, and if possible, get the ladies out of the dungeon as well.”

“Eh?” David said in imitation of the old man. He looked up for an explanation having caught the part about their father.

Inaros leaned over. “Floren and Oren are the children of Stongheart and Lady Lisel,” he said, and then apologized. “I am sorry, but I do not recall Alden’s family.”

“Cause I’m a mountain elf, you know, a kobold, not strictly in the elf line,” Alden said and Inaros nodded. David nodded as if he understood as well, but he could hardly see much difference. Alden looked a half-foot shorter, but then James was small for his age group, so David thought nothing of it. He looked closely, then, and decided that Alden’s skin might have been a little darker and his ears not quite so pointed, but it did not mean much.

David tried the fish. He found he could eat it even if it was not his favorite. He preferred the bread, though, with plenty of butter, and he knew that at least his finicky self would not starve. Then he had a thought. “This fish isn’t salmon, is it?” He just had to ask again, to be triple sure.

“No,” Floren said, with a smile and a sweet, lilting laugh. “You asked that already.”

David returned her grin. “Because the salmon said he knew everything, but I’m not ready for that yet.” David always spoke in utter honesty about what he thought and felt, and because of it, he sometimes shared more than he should.

Floren smiled even more deeply at his words. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it. The salmon was probably just bragging.”

“No,” Inaros said to everyone’s surprise. “Maybe it does know everything, but that is still no excuse for being rude.”

Golden Door Chapter 8 Morning Matters, part 2 of 2

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“But we only saw one castle,” David said. He tried to turn his mind from the sight of Ashtoreth.

“Castles.” Inaros underlined the plural.

“Yes, you see, this place is in the second heavens, which is not like on earth under the first heavens. Things are different here.” Mrs. Aster spoke quickly.

“An understatement,” Chris muttered, and James got a very broad grin.

Deathwalker held up his hand for quiet before he tried to explain. “There is only one castle, but four castles in a sense. It is all in how you look at it. In the same way, there is only one island, but many, many islands in the sea. They are separate islands, so you can sail to them and all the way around them, but you can also go from one island to the next without ever crossing the water.”

Mrs. Copperpot interrupted and spoke to James and to all by extension. “Most of the monsters now on Castle Isle belong on other islands, but the demon-goddess is now controlling the doors and has Avalon cut off from the Earth, and she has made the innumerable islands of Avalon leak into each other. She is using the monsters to guard the ways to the castles.”

“Enough.” Deathwalker regained the floor. “So there is one castle, but four that are one and the same. There is the Castle on the hill that you have seen. It is called Castle Perilous or Castle Turning or the Castle of the Kairos or Nameless’ Castle.” Mrs. Copperpot cleared her throat to stop the litany. Deathwalker swallowed before he continued. “Yes, it is where the spirits of the Earth reside and where the Kairos usually makes his or her home, but then there are three other castles as well. One is the castle under the earth, Castle Sidhe or the Castle of Darkness, you know, Danna’s Castle.” He paused long enough to stare at Mrs. Copperpot before the next cough. “The castle underground is where the dark elves and fire sprites reside. Lord Deepdigger is master there right now, and his Lady Goldenvein is in the dungeon.”

“He has his own lady in the dungeon?” Beth asked.

Deathwalker waved off the question. “He is enchanted. All the Lords of the Dias are enchanted, and the ladies are all in the dungeon. We think the ladies are all together in the same rooms with your mother, but who can know?”

“You forgot Lord Noen, the Dwarf King is in Nameless’ Castle and his lady is Lady Biggles,” Mrs. Aster interjected.

“Yes, and the Castle in the Clouds, the Castle in the Sky, the Castle of Light, Junior’s place is presently ruled by Lord Oak of the fee.”

“Fairies,” Mrs. Aster whispered.

“It is where the sprites of the air live, and Lord Oak’s lady is Queen Ivy.” Deathwalker nodded to Mrs. Aster and then looked at a contemplative Inaros. “The fourth castle is called the Golden Palace under the sea where Amphitrite used to rule over the winds and waves. Lord Galadren, the Elf King has been made ruler over the water sprites and mere people. He did the most to resist Ashtoreth and his punishment is to be assigned under the sea.”

“His lady?” Chris asked.

“Lisel.” Deathwalker said.

Inaros spoke. “Galadren means strong heart, and he was very hard to enchant, and Lisel means beauty, and that she surely is. My own lord and lady confined to live with the seaweed.” He shook his head.

Mrs. Copperpot rapped her spoon on the table in front of the old man. “I should say Lord Sweetwater and Lady Wavemaker might take exception to your sentiment.”

“To those it suits, dear Lady. To those it suits.”

“Anyway.” Mrs. Aster took the floor again by fluttering down to stand on the table. “We thought we might be able to liberate one or more of the lords from their enchantment and they might know a way to overcome the demon-goddess. After all, and I mean no offense, but what can a bunch of old has-bins and human children do against the likes of her, even if you are the children of the Kairos.”

“Hey. That’s right.” David sat up and looked pleased, as if two and two just connected in his mind.

“That makes us what?” Chris asked. He was going to say nothing special, but Inaros spoke first.

“Like a prince of the realm, and a princess for Miss Beth, in whose blood runs all the power of the rightful king.” He tipped his hat toward Beth.

“More like demigods,” Deathwalker said quietly to Chris and James, but he found his hand slapped by Mrs. Copperpot’s spoon. He popped his hand into his big mouth while she spoke.

“Truth is, if you don’t want to do anything, we can’t make you even if we had all of the power of the little ones on earth.”

“You’re not has-bins.” David backed-up in the conversation.

“Kind of you to say.” Inaros smiled for him.

“I want my mom safe and my dad well,” James said, quietly. Beth nodded, and Chris spoke for the group.

“We’re in,” he said.

Mrs. Aster likewise looked around the table. “As are we,” she said, and it would have been a beautiful moment if Deathwalker had not removed his hand from his mouth to mumble.

“Probably in for the dungeons.” He jumped to get away from the cooking spoon.

“Beth.” Mrs. Aster ignored the exchange and got Beth’s attention. “You are the eldest. We are first.” They all looked again at the open door and the garden-like scene outside.

“It doesn’t look too bad in daylight,” David admitted.

Beth walked to the doorway but hesitated while Mrs. Aster turned back to the others. “We’ll meet you in the Castle in the sky,” she said. They moved through, and the door closed.

“Well, Gentlemen,” Inaros said. “And the ever-blessed Mrs. Copperpot. Who shall go next?”

The thump came and the door opened on pitch blackness. “Looks like the decision has already been made,” Deathwalker said, still out of reach of the cooking spoon. “Come on, Chris.”

“But it is totally dark in there. I can’t see a thing,” Chris protested.

“Now that Holy One gave you eyes.” Deathwalker told him. “And I will admit that those creatures know what they are doing, so I would guess all you have to do is use them. Try looking at the dark in a different sort of way.”

Of course, that honestly explained nothing, but suddenly Chris said, “Wow!” in a way that suggested he saw something, and they stepped through the door together, and the door closed.

“You go next,” James said.

“No.” David immediately protested. “You go.”

James shook his head, but then the next thump came, and the door opened on a real forest scene. They saw a path through the trees, but otherwise the forest looked dark and thick with plenty of bushes and large clumps of fallen leaves at ground level.

“I think I know this place,” Mrs. Copperpot said, as she stepped up for a closer look.

Inaros put his old hand on David’s shoulder. “I think we will call it ladies first,” he said.

Mrs. Copperpot turned around. “Come along, James. At least you won’t starve.” She held out her hand. James reluctantly took it as he looked at his brother. Then he broke free and came back to give David a hug and whisper in David’s ear.

“Good luck. If I can do it, so can you,” he said, and he turned and rushed out to follow Mrs. Copperpot before he changed his own mind.

David nodded, and then he set his courage and he became determined to see things through. His face became stern and stubborn. Inaros noticed but said nothing as the thump came one more time. This time the door exposed a view that looked more like highlands. The trees were strewn sparsely among great rocks and boulders and heather of some kind for beneath the feet. Many of the trees were evergreen trees, and in all they smelled the aroma of cold stone and late spring flowers where spring came later in the highlands. David did not look encouraged by the scene, despite his determination. He hated camping out, but Inaros slipped his arm all the way around David’s shoulder and began to walk, alternately leaning on his stick and the boy.

“Reminds me of Nova Scotia where I sailed with the great Captain Hawk on the Golden Hawk.” He lifted his cane to use again as a pretend sword and leaned more heavily on David as he did. David, kind heart that he was, kept the man upright and helped as much he could.

“Why was he called Captain Hawk, because of the ship, the Golden Hawk?” David asked.

“No,” Inaros said. “It was because he had a great aquiline nose.” He used his cane hand to represent the nose with his fingers. “Made him look a bit like a hawk.” He laughed. “Elizabeth loved him for his quick wit, you know.” Then to David’s curious look, he responded. “The queen, boy. The queen.”

David looked around suddenly, but they were already outside, and the golden door had gone.

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MONDAY

David gets in trouble with a fish and James has a fine conversation with a tree on Monday. Until then, Happy Reading

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