Elf

Avalon Pilot part I-3: Meanwhile, Back on Earth…

M G Kizzia 2 Comments

Three old men and one young woman stood in an open field somewhere in suburban New Jersey.  The green grass looked uncut and undisturbed, except where the corporate plane set down.  The trees that surrounded the perimeter of the field, mostly oak and maple, had just enough fir trees to break the monotony.  The trees looked well-spaced for easy passage, if anyone cared to walk through the woods to the field.  The sound of distant road traffic suggested civilization, not far away.  The sound of children playing among the trees suggested the three old men and young woman should leave before they were discovered; but first they had to watch.

A white light, bright enough to easily be seen under the noonday sun—a rectangle, door-like shape of brilliance stood before them.  They watched it rise about ten feet in the air.  A voice, like one might imagine the voice of an angel, came from the light.

“Remember, Lockhart, do not depend on those healing chits.  They are organic and will stay in your system for some time, but you do not have the seeds to grow more.  They will eventually die out, and you will again be vulnerable to the pains of age.  I am sorry.  I am not permitted to do more.  Maybe the Kairos can do more for you, but that is not my place to say.  Farewell friends.”

The light rose slowly in the sky even as it rapidly shrank in size.  It looked like it disappeared, but one of the three old men shook his head.

“It did not really go invisible,” he said.  “It just got too small to see and zoomed off to somewhere else in this universe or in some other universe.”

“We won’t see them again?” the tallest old man asked.

The first man shrugged.  “Who can say?”

The third old man turned on the first.  “But you are the Kairos, the Traveler in Time.  Don’t you know?”

The first man, the Kairos, shook his head as he replied.  “No reason I should know.  The future isn’t written yet.  Well, it is written, but I don’t have the record of every individual life in history.  Well, there is a record of every life in the Heart of Time, but I don’t have snap-your-finger access to the heart.  Besides, it only records what happened in the past, or rather, it is recording the present, but it has no record of the future.  True, I remember a couple of future lifetimes, you know, but I can’t say exactly what will be.  I mean, my future lives can’t be expected to remember all the intimate details in the life of every human being this far in the past.  Are you following me?  Am I making any sense?”

“None at all,” the tall old man said, and added a big grin, like this was not the first time the Kairos spoke in riddles, and he found it funny.

The Kairos shook his head and continued.  “Anyway, I mostly deal with events, and usually just the big things.  I have one hundred and twenty past lives stretching all the way back to about 4500 BC, though I don’t remember most of them.  I have twenty or more in the future, though I only remember a few of those.”  He stopped and shook his hands as if to say, don’t interrupt.  “Remembering future lives is the only way to explain it, because it comes to me just like any memory.  But, what I mean is, I have no idea what is going to happen tomorrow.  Tomorrow is just as much a mystery to me as it is to anyone else.”

The Kairos turned toward the corporate plane that started to rev its engines.  The tall old man looked at his own two feet as he walked, but raised his voice to comment to the young woman.

“Come along, Boston.  Don’t forget the wheelchair, which I no longer need.”  He smiled as he walked.

“Lockhart,” Boston complained while she lugged the folded chair as well as she could through the tall grass.  “It didn’t seem so heavy when you were in it.”

Lockhart nodded.  “It is a wonder I didn’t put on a hundred pounds given all the years I spent confined to that chair.”  He hopped, and tried to click his heels, but he nearly lost his balance in the attempt.  He remained sixty-eight, even if he could walk.  He did not suddenly become twenty-five, like Boston’s age.

“But Glen,” the third old man was thinking things through and stepped up to the Kairos.  “How are we going to find Alexis?  Don’t you know where my wife is?”

“Lincoln,” Glen spoke kindly to the man and touched his arm to assure him of his sincerity.  “We will go back to headquarters and I promise we will use every means available to find her.”

“But…” Lincoln started to say something, but he held his tongue and went wide-eyed instead when the old man in front of him vanished and a well-built young man in ancient looking armor appeared in Glen’s place.

“Diogenes,” Boston shouted the young man’s name, and smiled.  She normally smiled when the Kairos traded places, as he called it, with a different lifetime from somewhere in history.  Lincoln normally quieted and his eyes often showed his surprise.  Lockhart stayed busy enjoying the sensation of walking on his own two feet.  He noticed, but he was preoccupied.

“L-let me,” Diogenes stuttered.  He reached out for the folded wheelchair and picked it up off the ground.  He carried it over his head, awkward as that was, but in that way, he got it up the ramp and into the plane.  Lockhart and Lincoln followed, old-man slow.  Boston came last because she caught some movement in the woods.  A half-dozen children, the oldest being a girl of maybe ten years, stood at the edge of the trees, staring.

“Keep back,” Boston shouted.  “Keep the little ones back,” she added for the ten-year-old, and underlined the command with her most serious look.  Then she ran up into the plane and pressed the button to retract the ramp.  The pilot hardly waited for the door to close.  He took the stealth designed VTOL straight up into the air.  Seconds later, the Kairos, Lockhart, Lincoln, and Boston were headed toward a non-descript building in the Virginia countryside, outside of Washington.

Diogenes traded back with Glen.  This was Glen’s life, after all, and Glen sat his old body down on the couch facing a work table full of computers and an inordinate amount of paperwork.  Lockhart sat in the co-pilot’s seat until they reached cruising altitude, though he gave the impression that he wanted to stand on his newly repaired legs for a while.  Lincoln sat in the corner and fretted about his missing wife.  Boston sat at the table, but swiveled her chair around to face the Kairos.

“Glen,” she tried for his attention, but clearly did not want to disturb him if he was thinking about something important.  He looked at her.  “Can I go to Avalon some day?” she asked, sweetly.  One of the two young men working at the table handed her a stack of papers.  She griped.  Glen snickered, but answered.

“Someday, maybe,” he said.

“Grumble,” Boston verbalized as she turned and at least pretended to type.

Lockhart came back from the cockpit.  He faked a little soft shoe before he sat where he could face Glen, and Lincoln in the corner.

“So, Lockhart,” Glen asked a question.  “As the assistant director of the men in black, got any ideas how Bobbi can convince Colonel Weber and his intrusive marines to go back to Groom Lake and leave us alone?”  When the alien Vordan came to earth, they first targeted the so-called Men in Black in strategic locations around the globe.  Colonel Weber and his marines, supposedly under the authority of the president, invaded the headquarters building when the Vordan flattened area 51.  Weber came, presumably, to help provide security and defend the only organization that knew anything at all about aliens.  Glen objected.  The president had no such authority, but Colonel Weber said he figured the organization was so secret, who would know?

“I don’t suppose one of your godly lives, like Junior or Nameless would be willing to blink them back to Nevada.”

Glen thought a minute.  “No.  Colonel Weber is an ass, but not a threat to history.  The gods have strict limits on where, when, and how they are able to interfere in normal, everyday life.  But Danna and Amphitrite agree that they don’t like the man, if that helps.”

Lockhart shook his head.  Getting the marines out of Men in Black business would be a headache.  He would help Bobbi, the director, as much as he could.  He would probably have to come up with some ideas for her to at least try.

Boston spun around.  “Maybe you could tell them some Vordan got left behind and are available for dissection if they all fly out to their own place and leave us alone.”

“We try not to lie,” Glen scolded her, but smiled.  “Besides, Colonel Weber already thinks anything alien is there to be dissected.  Living, intelligent, alien person; it is all the same to him, and I don’t want to promote that kind of thinking.”  He waved his finger in a circle.  Boston made a sour face and turned back to the table and her work.

“PhD in electrical engineering and I’m nothing but a clerk…a cluck,” she said.

Lincoln scooted closer to the conversation and kindly asked about something other than his missing wife.  “What I want to know is what are you going to do about Emile and Mirowen.”

Glen thought again.

Emile Roberts, utterly human, was a physicist that should have been an auto mechanic.  His current specialty appeared to be taking apart two-thousand-year old abandoned alien spacecraft to see how they worked.  Mirowen, a former elf maid, got right in there with him.  She knew the little spirits of the earth were not supposed to make those kinds of attachments to mortal humans.  But she got attached to the man, and whenever one of Glen’s little ones got attached in that way, it felt like superglue.  They were very hard to remove.

Boston spun to face them again.  “But they are so cute together.”

Glen looked at Lincoln.  Lincoln’s wife, Alexis, had been an elf; but she gladly gave up being an elf and became human to become Missus Benjamin Lincoln.  The problem with Emile and Mirowen was Mirowen did not seem so anxious to become human.  Of course, Emile becoming an elf was laughable, so that was out of the question.  Right now, the couple appeared to be in a stalemate position on the issue, but Glen knew that was not what Lincoln felt concerned about.

“Don’t worry,” Glen told Lincoln.  “We will find your wife.”

Avalon Pilot part I-2: Thief, Kidnapper, Father.

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Mingus stopped at the top of the stairs.  He heard voices in the lab.  He peeked through the glass in the door and saw old, white-bearded Doctor Procter leaning over a table, trying to concentrate.  Doctor Procter held a delicate piece of equipment in one hand, and held his wand in the other hand, ready to make whatever adjustment might be necessary.  The young elf doing all the talking and interrupting kept leaning into the light, like he might be trying to read over Doctor Procter’s shoulder.

“Roland.”  Mingus entered the room, the name of the young elf on his lips.  “Leave the man to his work.”

“Father,” Roland turned and stood tall.  A look of pride crossed his face.  “I guessed I would find you here.”

“Why?” Mingus sounded suspicious.

“Because I have not been able to find you anywhere since you came back from the past.  But you have always lived in this place… Oh, I guess you are asking…”  Roland straightened up.  “Because I want to give answer to your unasked question when you went away.”

“What question?  Maybe there was a reason it was unasked.”

“Father.”  Roland sounded serious.  “You said some terrible things about Alexis before you made the time jump, but I want you to know, I support my sister.  She freely chose to give up being an elf and became a human to marry a human, and I say, as long as she is happy, she will have my full support.”

“And you have told her this?”

“Not yet.”  Roland looked down at the table and at his feet. He worried his hands before he raised his head again.  “But I intend to.”  He spoke with conviction.

Mingus nodded and kept his sarcasm to a minimum.  “You better hurry up, son.  Your sister is sixty.  Her human husband is sixty-five.  They have children of their own.  They have grandchildren.  You know; humans don’t live very long.”  It irked Mingus every time he thought of Alexis getting old and dying, but he tried not to show it on his face.

“Like a breath,” Doctor Procter breathed.

“Roland.  Son.” Mingus stepped to the far side of the table to face the young elf.  “I am glad you support your sister.  Family is important.  But now, um…  You are over a hundred, aren’t you?”

“Father.”  Roland let out a deep breath of exasperation.  “I will be one-hundred-twenty-seven next winter solstice.”

“Good, good.”  Mingus waved off his own ignorance.  “I heard certain elf maidens have a bonfire and dance planned in the three-circle court of Giovani.  An elf your age should be out enjoying himself.”

“No good.  You spoiled him by activating his brain cells,” Doctor Procter said, with a small grin beneath his long white, unkempt beard.

“Father.  Those elf maids are not exactly well educated,” Roland admitted.

“It isn’t their education you should be looking at, at your age.  Go have some fun.  You remember fun?”

“But father—”

“Get out,” Mingus yelled.  Roland flushed red and made a fist.  He stomped his way to the door.  Mingus and Doctor Procter watched until the door closed.

“No need to yell,” Doctor Procter said.

“That is what children are for,” Mingus responded.  “They are for yelling at when they don’t get the message.”

“Um,” Doctor Procter made a sound, shook his head slightly, and returned to his work.

“So,” Mingus said, casually, taking a deep breath to calm himself.  “Is that the new amulet?  The prototype worked well enough, but it did not give much detail in terms of the surrounding area.  We—I came to a cliff in the Rockies in 1875 and had to backtrack a long way to go around.”

Doctor Procter nodded.  “See any Indians?”

“Native-Americans.  No.  Is it ready?”

Doctor Procter paused in his work.  “We have added some basic scanner technology to the amulet so it will get a reading on the area, cities, towns, forests, mountains, and so on.  But the screen is so small, it will take very good eyes, preferably elf eyes to see it.  It took some real coordination with the technology and IT departments, not to mention—”

“Doctor.”  Mingus cut the man off before he went into a half-hour unintelligible explanation.  “Is the amulet ready?”

“This?  No.  It needs further adjustments, and then testing.”

“Adjustments?”

“Additional work.  I’m afraid it would not work at all in its present condition.”

Mingus nodded.  “The prototype still around?”

“On the wall there,” Doctor Procter pointed over his shoulder without turning from the table.  Mingus walked to find it in the mess by the filing cabinets.  Doctor Procter paid no attention.

“The prototype worked well enough,” Mingus said, in his friendly voice.

“Yes, yes,” Doctor Procter responded as he leaned over his work and squinted at the amulet in his hand.

“It got me home in one piece, through the time gates.”

“And we are all glad.  Welcome home,” Doctor Procter mumbled and he leaned further into his work.  Mingus found the prototype under some papers and slipped it into his pocket.  Doctor Procter paused and turned to Mingus.  “We are glad you are home, but this time, don’t expect to steal the new amulet and leave me a note about going to test it.  The new one is shielded.  If you so much as touch it, alarms will go off and all of Avalon will know.”

Mingus looked down and nodded like a child, properly scolded.  “I understand.  It was just the first one.  I am the only one in all of Avalon who knows the history; maybe the only one who had a reasonable chance of making such a journey, and getting home in one piece.  I might have died at the outset, entering into the crystal.  I felt I was the only one who ought to take that risk.  An expedition of young elves without the proper knowledge would have been a disaster.”

“That is debatable,” Doctor Procter said.  “But you stole the amulet and went before anyone could stop you.  You won’t be stealing this one.”

“Fair enough,” Mingus said.  “I’ll leave you to your work.  You have had enough interruption for this evening.”  He headed toward the door, and paused only briefly when Doctor Procter had one more thing to say.

“Glad you made it back.  The history department would not be the same without you.”

Mingus stepped through the door and hurried down the stairs.

Now that it had become a fully dark night, he needed to get Alexis before she broke free of her enchantment.  They needed to be gone before anyone found out.  He looked once again to be sure the naiad was not in her spring.  He looked again at the tower, now pitch dark, like a giant finger pointing to the stars.  There were various opinions on just which finger the tower represented.

Mingus found his daughter in the closet where he left her.  He paused to note her gray hair, wrinkles, and pale human skin.  At least she didn’t get chunky like some human women got when they turned sixty, he thought.  He made sure her hands were still bound and the magical gag remained in place.  He made her stand and walk.  He had to lighten the trance so she could stagger.  He had to help her, but he dared not let her come to full consciousness, even bound and gagged.  She retained her elf magic when she became human.  She was hardly powerless, and might yet find some way to break free from his control.  She was his daughter, after all.

The most dangerous part came when they went out into the open to cross the green, and particularly when they crossed the little bridge over the stream.  Mingus’ mind wandered.  Doctor Procter was wrong.  The history department on Avalon would get along just fine without him.  Some fifty years ago, the dark elves learned to extract information directly from the Heart of Time and put it on computers.  The history department on Avalon started slowly filling up with computer geeks.  Elves should not be nerds, he thought.  Mingus knew he was old fashioned, like someone out of the stone age.  But he still believed in things that mattered.  He still believed in family.  He believed a daughter should not die before her father, and Alexis, now human, was ageing rapidly right before his eyes.

Mingus got them to the tower door.  He took one last look around the green before he slipped them inside.

“Uh,” Alexis made a sound and wiggled in the light, like a sleeper trying to wake.  Mingus held her until she settled down again into her enchanted sleep.  He looked around.

The ground floor was the only floor in that great hollow finger.  The walls stretched up high enough so Mingus imagined the cathedral roof might have been designed not only to keep out the rain, but to keep the stars from falling in.  No fire gave light to that room.  No torches lined the wall.  No electric lights were allowed near the place.  Only the Heart of Time throbbed with its own internal light, and somehow, the wood out of which the tower got built retained enough of the light to light up the entire inside, even to the ceiling.

There were theories about the wood.  Recently, an ancient theory had come back to the surface—that it was some alien wood Lady Alice snatched off some impossibly distant planet.  Another theory suggested that the tower had actually been planted, like a tree, and the wood was alive, and still growing.  Mingus shook his head.  Some people will believe anything.

He helped Alexis come inside the circle painted on the floor.  They faced the stand in which the crystal rested, silently pulsing with light.  Mingus reached into his right-hand pocket to make sure he still had the amulet.  He reached into his left-hand pocket where he had a handful of gold dust.

“Mister Barrie called this fairy dust,” Mingus whispered to himself—some distant memory.  He sprinkled it on Alexis and himself, three times, and mumbled a long series of unintelligible syllables.  Alexis sneezed.  Mingus reached down to scoop Alexis up in his arms when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye.  Lady Alice was in the room.  Mingus panicked and jumped right into the crystal.  Alexis snapped out of her trance as they jumped into the light.  She yelled, a muffled “No,” before the sound cut off.

Alice and the naiad stepped up to the crystal.

“I think he saw you,” the naiad said.

“He needed to see me,” Alice responded.  “Hopefully, he won’t put up a struggle when the rescue party arrives.  Now, let us see where they went.”

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

MONDAY

Meanwhile, back on earth, Lockhart and the men in Black are ready to focus on finding Lincoln’s wife, Alexis while Mingus has his daughter, Alexis, in the deep and distant past. Don’t miss it and Happy Reading

*

Avalon Pilot Part I: Various Nefarious

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Present day, Between Avalon and Earth.  Kairos 121:  Glen, the Storyteller.

Recording…

Mingus, a well-respected elder elf, nearly eight-hundred years old, a true academic and head of the Avalon history department for the last three-hundred years, a peace-loving scholar by reputation, dragged the elderly human woman to an obscure closet on the campus in the castle of the Kairos.  She struggled, but her hands were bound behind her back and her lips were magically sealed so she could not cry out.  Her eyes got big when Mingus opened the closet door and a cloud of dust greeted them.

You wouldn’t, she thought.  Mingus, a master of mind magic, caught her thought because she directed it at him.  You can’t do this.  Lady Alice will find out.  She will know.

“Hush,” Mingus said out loud, as he forced her to sit on the closet floor beside a broom and dustpan that hardly looked used.  He raised his hand, and the woman widened her eyes.

You wouldn’t, she repeated her thought.  Father!  Her mind cried out and her whole being objected when he touched her forehead.  Her eyes rolled up and closed as she fell into a trance.

“Alexis.  I am just trying to save you from yourself,” Mingus whispered.  He left the light on when he gently closed the door.  He paused to make sure the light did not leak out the bottom or around the edges of the door frame.  Satisfied with his work, he stepped out of the first-floor door and headed across the green toward the history building.

The great, wooden tower on his right reached for the clouds.  He understood it was the first building in Avalon.  The rest of the castle got built around that ancient structure.  It housed the Heart of Time, the glowing crystal that beat with light like the beat of a living heart.  The Heart of Time held a record of all human history.  It got created when the old god, Cronos and the Kairos, Alice, held hands, the angel presiding.  Alice made a three-pronged stand to hold the great crystal, built the tower to house it, and there it rested through the ages, beating from its own internal light, capturing a record of everything that happened on the earth.

Mingus shifted his eyes to the spring beside the tower.  The spring and the stream that came from it supplied all the fresh water in the castle.  People called it the spring of life.  Fortunately, the naiad of the spring was not present.   Rumor said she was still in recovery from the time, several years earlier, when the goddess Ashtoreth invaded Avalon and enslaved the people.  The naiad was the last defender of the tower and the Heart of Time.  The goddess overcame her in the cruelest way imaginable, and then Ashtoreth had access to all of human history.

Mingus paused.  He stopped walking and looked again at the spring and the tower.

In the end, the children of the Kairos overcame the demon-goddess with the help of the Knights of the Lance, but in the meanwhile, Ashtoreth discovered some interesting things about the Heart of Time.

First, she found that gateways, something like invisible time gates, bracketed the many lives of the Kairos throughout history—like bookends.  The gates gave real access to the lives before and after whatever life the Kairos presently lived.  If one knew how to find the gates and work them, and could cross safely through each time zone, they made something like a time-travel highway through history, from the beginning of history, when the Kairos was first conceived to live lives number one and two, up to the present one hundred and twenty-first lifetime of the Kairos.

Mingus started to walk again.  The second discovery showed a person could enter the Heart of Time and travel to anywhere in the timeline of history to begin the journey.  Jumping into the past through the Heart of Time displaced a person from his or her normal time stream.  Mingus supposed a person would continue to age according to their own internal time clock, but at that point they could travel through the gates into the future and not fear prematurely ageing, or into the past without suddenly getting younger than their birth.

No one knew this before Ashtoreth.  Maybe the Kairos knew it, but no one previously guessed.  Ashtoreth proved the fact by sending all sorts of terrible persons and monsters into the past, in her effort to disrupt history.  “Unsavories,” as Doctor Procter called them.  Mingus smiled.  That quick access to any point in history was the discovery he counted on, dangerous as it might be.

After Ashtoreth got overcome, the brains and powers around Avalon got together and built a prototype amulet that would lead a person from one time gate to the next.  Mingus volunteered to test it, in the dead of night, without telling anyone.  He took his daughter to the days of her youth, not that anyone knew he kidnapped Alexis.  They jumped to the year 1776, but Alexis remained stupid and stubborn.  She refused to come home to the Long March of Elfenheim.  She insisted on staying married to that human—on remaining human.  There appeared to be no way he could get through to her.  Mingus got angry to think about it.  He ended up dragging her back to the present through the time gates, which proved their worth.  It took him half a year to do that.  He felt prepared then to let her go.  But when they got back to the present, she made him angry, again, and he thought what he had thought a thousand times before.  No daughter should die before her father.

He stepped into the history building and walked up the stairs to the lab.

~~~*~~~

Lady Alice stood on the wall that surrounded the tower and the campus.  She watched Mingus enter the history building before she turned to the lovely naiad that stood beside her.  “You understand.  This one time I want you to stay away from your spring and let Mingus enter the tower of the heart.  He will run.  I will send others to chase him, and when they have him, I will bring them all back through the heart.”

“Aren’t you afraid they will get lost in time or mess up something in history and set the whole course of human life off track?” the naiad asked.

“There is a risk, but it is the only way to test the Heart.  When Ashtoreth broke it, I feared time itself might unravel.  Some said history would come to an end.  Some thought the whole of creation might roll up like a scroll and be finished.  Glen’s children were able to collect the broken pieces of the Heart, and I managed to make it whole again.  It is continuing to record the events on earth, but it needs to be thoroughly tested before I can pronounce it fully healed.”

“But what if you can’t bring them back all at once from the past?”

“Mingus and his captive daughter, that is one elf and one human, tested the time gates between my Michelle Marie’s lifetime and the present; even if Mingus did not realize that was what he was doing.  If something goes wrong, it may take a long time, but we know the people will be able to get home using the time gates.”

“It just seems a big risk.”

“Relax.  Have some faith.  Everything will work out in the end, one way or another.”

“Oh, I know,” the naiad said.  “I love the conspiracy of it, except it makes my waters churn.”

Golden Door Chapter 26 The Broken Heart, part 2 of 2

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The elf queen wrinkled up her face. “Children, you must try to understand,” she said. “The Heart of Time has been shattered and time itself is in danger of unraveling. The Kairos, your father is safe here for the present, in the second heavens, but with the heart missing pieces, he is very, very sick.”

“Our main concern is for your father, of course, but we are also concerned for your world under the first heavens.” Lord Oak, the fairy King looked down again at his hands.

“The Earth is in the most dreadful danger,” Deepdigger, the goblin king interrupted, speaking for the first time. His red eyes flashed gold as he spoke, like eyes on fire, filled with lava from the deep. Nothing could have grabbed the children’s attention quite like a goblin speaking of dreadful danger. Lord Noen went on to explain.

“You see, without time and history to keep life in order and on track, the Earth, the planets, the sun and the moon, and even the stars are in danger of curling up like a scroll and maybe disappearing altogether.”

“But what can we do about it?” Beth asked. Everyone heard the Thump!

The Golden Door appeared behind the children and elders, near the bookshelves at the far end. A moment of staring and silence followed before Deathwalker finished speaking.

 “In any case,” he said. “This much we have been able to discover. The shattered pieces of the heart have flown throughout time to the many, future reflections of the Kairos, the Traveler in time. And this golden door, though not of our making, is certainly able to travel through time. We believe it is the same door that once brought Lady Alice from the far future, back to the beginning of history when the Heart of Time was first made.” He sat down.

“Not of your making?” Mama looked up as if this was news.

“A power far greater than ours is behind the golden door,” Lord Oak said, quietly, and said no more about it. He cleared his throat and Stongheart reached over to nudge him and nod. It was time.

“Please,” Lord Oak began, and took a quick sip of water. “What we are asking is if you children might be willing to make the journey through time, to find the Kairos, wherever you may find him or her, in order to retrieve the pieces so the Heart of Time can be restored.”

“So your father can be made well again,” Lady Lisel added.

“So the earth can be saved,” Stongheart whispered.

The children looked at each other, and then at their mother who sat quietly on the dais with her head lowered. She was not going to influence them. She knew there would be risks and dangers, and sometimes the dangers would be very great, indeed. But she did not want to think of that. She only thought that she was glad she did not start crying.

“But why us?” Once again, James, in his almost inaudible voice, threw the important question into the silence.

Lord Oak did not hesitate to answer this time. He spoke as if this question had been anticipated. “Because, for all our magic, our wisdom, our power, we are like any other people. We are trapped in the days in which we live. We are born, we grow old, and yes, even we come to the end of days.”

“Even the elders behind you will not be able to come with you this time,” Lord Noen added, with a look at Mrs. Copperpot, his grandmother.

“I’ll starve,” James said, with a smile and a glance back at the same Mrs. Copperpot, and thoughts about the old dwarf’s good cooking. She returned his smile but said nothing. Besides, as usual, James’ small voice got swallowed up by David’s shout, which was perhaps David’s normal voice.

“You won’t be coming?”

Inaros leaned forward from his wheelchair and patted David on the shoulder. “I’ll be with you in spirit, boy. In spirit.”

Mrs. Aster, sitting in her big size rather than her natural small fairy size, also leaned forward to pat Beth on the shoulder. “Besides,” she said. “We have already given you all the help we can. You carry all the magic and abilities of the fairy world, as Chris carries the strengths of the dark elves, David the light elves, and James the dwarfs and all the in between spirits of the earth. At this point, us older folks would just be a burden to you.”

Beth held Mrs. Aster’s hand on her shoulder and looked back with a look that said she cared deeply for the old fairy and being a burden would not matter.

“And your mother.” Lady Ivy added and reached in front of her husband toward the empty place and Mama’s hand in a sign of reassurance. “For all of her love, she is only an ordinary, mortal woman,” and she whispered, “I mean no disrespect.”

“You children, alone, carry the blood of the Kairos, the Watcher over history, the Traveler in time in your veins,” Lord Oak said. “You, alone, can travel through time to find the pieces and restore the Heart.”

“You are the only ones who can do it,” Strongheart said softly, and nodded to himself.

A silence even deeper than before fell on the room while once again the children looked from one to the other. Beth finally nodded and Chris spoke.

“When do we start?” Chris asked, and a great sigh went up all around. Most had been holding their breath. Mama began to weep, softly, but this time it was out of fear for her children. All the same, Davey spoke up loud and clear.

“I want my dad to get well and come home,” he said.

“Thank you.” Strongheart spoke for everyone in the room, and with a glance down at Mama, he added, “You may begin when you are ready.”

Lord Oak stood, and others followed until everyone stood apart from Mama and the children. The fairy king clutched a gold and silver goblet firmly in his hand and he raised it with a word. “To the children,” he said.

“To the children,” the dais responded.

The children stood. The golden door slowly opened to reveal a light so bright, even fairy eyes could not penetrate. James started it by hugging Mrs. Copperpot and saying, “Thank you.” David leaned down to the wheelchair and hugged Inaros.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Inaros whispered in David’s ear.

Chris hugged Deathwalker, and the goblin returned the hug briefly. He looked a bit surprised, and mumbled, “Yes, well… We don’t go for much of that sort of thing in the underworld.”

Beth hugged Mrs. Aster and let out one tear before she let go and looked to her mother. They all looked, but Mama kept her moist eyes glued to the table. She would not say anything, or even show a facial expression that might cause her children to second guess their decision.

“Come on,” Beth said, and the nineteen-year-old led her soon to be sixteen-year-old brother Chris, and her brothers David, just twelve, and James, just three months into his ninth year into the light. The light did not blind them because it was meant for them. And when they vanished behind that brightness, and the golden door closed on the outside world, they went to their knees, trembling.

Angel stood there, but his first words brought them comfort. “Do not be afraid.” Angel toned down the light and his awesome nature so the four could breathe as Angel spoke. “Welcome. We have a long way to go.”

End

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

MONDAY

Now you know how the Avalon Series really began. It started with four children and a broken heart. Of course, once the heart is repaired it must be tested, but that is a different story. Look for Avalon, Season One Travelers (The Pilot Episode included) at your favorite e-retailer. The series is nine seasons (nine books) altogether worth buying and reading. If you are still uncertain on just who this Kairos person is, you might start with Avalon, the Prequel Invasion of Memories, where the Kairos is forced to remember himself as the Traveler in time, the Watcher over history because there are three Vordan battleships on the moon preparing to invade. A book to buy and keep. You might want to refer to it now and then. Enjoy.

*

Golden Door Chapter 25 Sunshine, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The room, big as a football field, had model trains, miniature villages, towns, and cities, mountains, forests, lakes worthy of the name great, and people to scale that appeared to move like real nineteenth-century people. The boys had soldiers that would really fight on the battlefield, and all magically protected, so Warthead the ogre could not accidentally knock things over, or crush things. Grubby, could not cheat by moving things when the others were not looking. All the same, the dwarf twins, Picker and Poker, complained that Grubby was cheating. They could not prove it, but they said he would hardly be worthy of being an imp if he did not at least try to cheat.

“So what if he does?” James said. He watched his green uniformed troops load up on the freight train. The girls and baby dolls waved and cried. James would have to think about that. “This is still the best game I ever played,” he said. He felt sure of that.

“Picker and I are thinking of making an alliance,” Poker said.

“Grubby has Warthead assisting,” Picker added, to suggest Grubby had two on his team working together, as if Warthead might be a help rather than a hindrance.

“I don’t know,” James shook his head. “Blue and Gray usually don’t go together, especially with Civil War soldiers.”

“But we have to do something to beat Grubby’s redcoats,” Picker complained.

“I said James would not be interested,” Poker said. “His green coats are not losing.”

“James…” The elderly dwarf, Mrs. Copperpot called from the door.

“Supper?” James wondered out loud. Ever since he gained a dwarf constitution and endurance, he found he could always eat something. In truth, he gained more or less everything from what some called the middle ones: dwarfs, imps, gnomes, and even some ogre strength. He could find Warthead easily because he stunk so bad, but he could find Grubby, Picker, Poker, or even Mrs. Copperpot, just by taking a great whiff of air and thinking about them, even if they hid in a labyrinth. The train room seemed like a labyrinth, but James could sniff and find what he needed, wherever it might be. It felt like a sixth sense.

“James…”

“Coming,” he hollered. He glanced at Picker and Poker and started off, knowing right where the door was in that great room. Right now, Mrs. Copperpot was calling, and he thought it best to go to her rather than her come out and maybe disturb or mess up the playing field.

James saw Lady Biggles and Lord Noen standing by Mrs. Copperpot and the door. James only saw the dwarf king and queen a couple of times, and briefly over the last few days. He wondered what was up, but he naturally turned to Mrs. Copperpot to explain.

“Lady Alice wants all of us in the Annex room by the banquet hall,” she said.

“Will there be food?” James asked.

Mrs. Copperpot let out her old grin. “You are my good eater, James.”

~~~*~~~

David ran up the slide at super elf speed and hid behind the pirate wheel. Oren and Alden might not find him right away.  Just to be safe, David got small, to stand about six inches tall, so he could squeeze between the wooden boards. He let his elf ears and elf senses focus, to listen for the boys. He heard the animals in the petting area scuffling about, and the birds up in the tree house area.

David never got to go on the playground in the sixth grade, or in the fifth grade. He hardly got to go in the fourth grade, and now that he would be going into the seventh grade in the fall, playgrounds were supposed to be for the little kids and beneath him. But honestly, he enjoyed all the climbing, swinging, and running around. And now that he had been granted every gift an elf might have, included the sure footedness of a mountain goat, and he could run around at super speed, he honestly wanted to run around all day. Besides, this playground was the equivalent of a dozen of the best city playgrounds, a dozen school playgrounds, a dozen of the best back-yard playgrounds, and a good dozen fast food playgrounds, and without ever repeating.

“The best theme park ever,” he said to himself, and squeezed back into the space between the wood as a tram moved along the wires overhead. He looked further up to the treetops, where Galadriel might live, or maybe it looked more like an Ewok village. David felt uncertain about the roller coaster, but he did not mind the treetops.

“David…”

David heard Floren, Oren’s big sister and daughter of King Strongheart and Queen Lisel.

“What?” David said, softly without vacating his hiding place. He knew her good elf ears would pick it up, even if he risked Alden and Oren hearing him, and maybe zeroing in on his position.

Floren answered. “Your mother and Lady Alice want you in the annex beside the banquet hall.”

“Come on boy. Don’t dawdle.” David heard the words of old Inaros, one who David since discovered, at fifteen-hundred-years-old, was the eldest elder elf in recorded history.

“Coming,” David said, and he wiggled out from between the wooden boards and returned to his regular size. He spied Oren and Alden sneaking up past the gangplank, and they showed unhappiness at being found out by the look on their faces. Whatever they planned, it was probably a good surprise. “Hold that thought,” David said, and raced off at super speed. Oren and Alden followed, matching his speed.

David saw Strongheart and Lady Lisel with Floren, by the door to the game room where all the old videogames and pinball machines were kept. Inaros was there, too; but he sat in a wheelchair that Floren pushed. David paused, and felt bad about seeing Inaros in a wheelchair, but it prompted another thought in his mind.

“My dad?”

“Resting comfortably,” Strongheart said.

“Fine, as far as we know,” Lady Lisel added. “This is not about that, as far as I know.”

David nodded. He accepted that. He put a hand on the back of Inaros’ wheelchair and walked beside the elf, while Floren pushed.

~~~*~~~

Beth got small as a fairy. She folded her wings in tight to her back and slid down the best water slide, ever. She came behind Holly, and Mistletoe followed her, Mistletoe’s betrayal long since forgotten. It took a long time to get half-way down a mountain, but they ended in a large pool of fresh water that connected to the sea. Mermaids frolicked in the pool.

Zinnia, Daffodil, and Hyacinth came behind. Daffodil said the trip was too scary for her and she had to have one in front and one behind. Needless to say, they were all screaming by the time they reached the pool, and the mermaids paused to laugh.

Beth had to come down the mountain in her fairy size, because sometimes the chute was only a few inches wide. She only got big again, her wings disappearing, when she came to the pool. She had her fairy weave clothing shaped into a nice bikini, and it automatically grew when she grew, so no worries there. She flew gently to a small beach where they had towels. She could fly in her big size, and she smiled at the thought. Flying, generally was a heady feeling. All fairies could fly big, though that was not a well-known fact, but they flew much slower than in their regular, small size with wings. For Beth, though, being big felt most natural, so she stayed big most of the time.

Holly, who had yet to get big in front of Beth, rushed to her shoulder, even though Beth’s hair was soaking wet. “Let’s do it again,” Holly shrieked in Beth’s ear. Beth instinctively put a hand to her ear against the volume of the shriek but smiled. Fairies tended to be very one-tracked, and especially the younger ones. She knew at fairy speed they could get back half-way up a real mountain and at the start of the slide in less than a minute. Even in her small size, it would take Beth a little longer, because she was still so new at this flying business, and she was not an actual fairy. But for her, three times down the slide was enough. She wanted to join the mermaids and get some late afternoon sun.

“Come on-y.” Holly tugged on her hair.

“Now, wait a minute,” Beth said. “Before we go anywhere, I think you should get big so I can see you in your big size.”

Holly backed off and flitted back and forth a few times. She thought about it, as Mistletoe stepped out of the water in her big size and said, “No chance of that happening.” Holly flew in a gentle backflip, as Daffodil gladly got big and stepped up on Beth’s other side.

“Now, Holly. I’ve been little, so I’ve seen you like you really are. Besides, now that I have fairy eyes, I can see both distance and small things really well.”

“Better than eagle eyes,” Daffodil said.

“You have everything a fairy has,” Mistletoe suggested.

“Not magic,” Beth said.

“Maybe you do,” Hyacinth said as she and Zinnia fluttered up.

“We don’t know about that,” Zinnia added, and in a way that suggested the girls talked about it.

“Okay,” Holly said suddenly. Her little mind made up. She got big and stood there, her wings gone, looking for all the world like an eleven-year-old girl. She almost looked like a stick figure in her little bikini, but Beth got a great big smile and stood, reached out and hugged her.

“You look beautiful,” Beth said.

“Too skinny,” Holly said, with a shake of her head as she backed up. She glanced at her sister, Mistletoe. “But maybe one day,” she said, without spelling out her hope.

“Beth.” Mrs. Aster flew up and interrupted. “You are needed at the castle.” Mistletoe stood as her mother and father Lord Oak and Lady Ivy, the fairy king and queen flew up.

“Nothing bad, I hope,” Daffodil said as she also stood.

“Not that I know of,” Mrs. Aster said. “Your mother and Lady Alice want to see all the children together.” Beth rolled her eyes for Mistletoe, but Lady Ivy caught it.

“Now Beth,” she said. “You will never stop being your mother’s child.”

Beth knew that was true, but she still wished her mother would let her grow up and be an adult, eventually. She turned to the girls. “You will have to do the slide without me.”

Daffodil shook her head. “I think I’ll stay here.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Mistletoe said.

“I’ll watch them,” Hyacinth said, and flew off.

A small Holly already shouted “Yipee!” and she and Zinnia were already zooming up the mountain.

Beth looked at Oak, Ivy, and Mrs. Aster. She looked at herself, got small again so she could fly with some speed, and followed them toward the castle.

Golden Door Chapter 25 Sunshine, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Mrs. Aster returned to her small fairy form and fluttered up to Beth’s ear. She sat gently on Beth’s shoulder, like Holly, but without all the tugging on Beth’s hair. David helped Inaros stand and walk. The elf appeared very old, sad, and frail. Mrs. Copperpot slipped one arm around James. He did not mind. He needed her kerchief to blow his nose.

Deathwalker opened the tower door and squinted. The sun came out. “Likely give me a migraine,” he mumbled, and Chris heard, and tried to laugh.

“Seems solid enough,” Inaros said, as he stomped several times on the ground. That thought made David smile.

“Thinking about college?” Deathwalker asked Chris. He pointed to the buildings across the stream. “Avalon Castle University,” he named it.

“Professor?” Chris asked and turned the word on Deathwalker almost like an accusation.

Deathwalker looked away. “Yes…well.” He coughed. “Retired. Don’t make more out of it than you hear. I said, in the underworld we don’t hold much with titles…”

Mrs. Copperpot closed the tower door and stepped over to the spring. James followed. The spring still bubbled out of the ground, but the water looked dark, almost blood red. James imagined it as the color of the dirt but got a shock when Mrs. Copperpot touched the spring water three times, gently, with her cooking spoon.

A young woman appeared on the surface of the water. She looked like she had been beaten raw. She looked cut everywhere, and while most of the cuts had scabbed over, blood still dripped from plenty of places. The woman squinted out of bruised and puffy eyes.

“Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Copperpot said, softly, as everyone gathered around.

The woman on the water slowly licked her lips and tried to speak. “I’m all right. Everything will be all right now,” she said, and vanished again.

“Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Aster repeated Mrs. Copperpot’s words. Then, Beth spoke from the heart.

“We have to go and save our friends from the soldiers.”

“And Mama,” David added.

“Even Warthead, and Grubby,” James barely breathed the words.

Everyone turned their eyes to the woods. They moved slowly, carefully, and quietly through the trees, not knowing what to expect. The forest gate proved to be open. Chris, at least, imagined some of the soldiers may have followed them into the woods.

“Warthead wandered off,” James spoke up. He realized Warthead had not been there when they escaped in the rain, though he did not notice at the time.

“Shh,” Chris hushed James; a very rare occurrence for James who normally spoke whisper soft.

David put his own hand to his own mouth. He was about to say something that would have come out the opposite of whisper soft, that is to say, in his normal voice.

They hid behind the trees and felt stymied, until Mrs. Aster spoke. “Let me fly to the top of the wall and spy out the area.”

“Wait,” Beth said, a bit loud, as Mrs. Aster vacated her shoulder.

“Beth, dear, you’re too big,” Mrs. Aster responded. “You’ll be spotted.”

“Wait. Just wait a minute.” Beth thought about having everything that the fairies had. She concentrated, before she remembered the fairy light, and just let it happen. She got small, fairy size, and she had bumblebee type wings that beat rapidly to keep her aloft. Her fairy weave clothes shrank with her, so she did not appear there naked, and she smiled while everyone around her gasped, except Davey, who said “Wow” a bit loud, though muffled by the hand that still covered his mouth.

“It doesn’t feel natural,” Beth admitted to Mrs. Aster.

“Natural for you will still be your big size,” Mrs. Aster said through her smile. “Now, are we ready?” Beth nodded and followed the elderly fairy to the top of the wall where they crouched down to peek.

Inaros and David watched with their good elf eyes until the two spies disappeared. Inaros drew in his breath, and David uncovered his mouth and let out a loud, “Hey!”

“Over here,” someone called from the gate. David saw little Mickey O’Mac next to a dirty kid and standing beneath a monstrosity that made Davey want to scream and throw-up at the same time.

“Grubby. Warthead.” James waved and ran to meet them, Mrs. Copperpot waddling behind.

“Redeyes? Crusher?” Chris sounded concerned.

Deathwalker squinted and used his hand to shade his eyes, even standing in the shadows of the trees. “Don’t worry. They probably slipped into the Bailiff Tower as soon as the blasted orb came out.

Chris looked toward the sun and imagined what that might be like to look with his goblin eyes. He decided not to test out his theory.

They entered the gate, and discovered the soldiers had all been put to sleep. No doubt, it was an enchanted sleep, because more than one continued to snore despite the movement and noise of conversation all over the courtyard. As he walked, Chris saw James with two bearded boys, the dirty kid, and a monster that had to be an ogre. Chris figured trolls were more frightening and ogres were more disgustingly ugly. He swallowed the bile that came into his throat from looking at the beast and looked elsewhere.

Chris saw a bunch of lights flying around one bench in a dizzying dance. Mrs. Aster hovered there, not getting into the middle of that madness. Then he saw his sister, Beth, get big again. She had no wings, and looked normal, apart from the two lights that appeared to want to play with her hair.

Chris followed Deathwalker across the courtyard and almost bumped into David. David raced around the courtyard with two boys, at super speed. They paid no attention to the good-looking young college age, maybe high school senior age girl—elf girl, that stood with her hands on her hips, yelling at them. Chris grinned. Yelling at Davey usually did no good.

Chris worried about Silverstain but paused at the door to the Bailiff’s Tower. His mother came out with all the ladies of the Dias still talking about everything and nothing. He paused to give his mother a quick hug, but then rushed in to where the dark elves waited.

“Silverstain?” he asked.

Watcher limped with his leg bandaged. He had a wan look on his face. Stalker stood quietly in the corner with his shoulder bandaged. Redeyes ran up, his arm in a sling, and he explained. “Crusher and Silverstain are in the hospital. Silverstain is in intensive care, but Doctor Burns said she should recover.” Redeyes tried to sound hopeful. Chris dropped his head and found some tears.

~~~*~~~

Three days later, Chris and Redeyes sat in Silverstain’s hospital room playing chess and talking about video games. Redeyes praised his first-person shooter VR game that had not yet been invented on earth. Silverstain made faces which made Chris laugh. Crusher sat in the corner and laughed once in a while as well; but then he ate something that looked like a bloody mess. As he said when Chris looked up. “It would take more than one blinkin’ arrow to interrupt a troll’s appetite.”

“Chris.” Mama stuck her head in the door. “We need to talk.” She looked upset.

Chris got right up. “Is Dad okay?” he asked. The four children had only been allowed into their dad’s room for a few minutes each day. He was never awake.

“Fine,” Mother said. “Doctor Burns says he is fine, but he is hardly conscious. He may slip into a coma if the trouble with the heart of time is not repaired.” Mother held her tears and stepped out into the hall. Chris noticed Goldenvein, the goblin queen stood there to give his mother a hug and comfort. Maybe Lady Goldenvein was there because Silverstain was her daughter, but Chris found it odd that of all the ladies from the dais, including the elf queen, the dwarf queen, and the fairy queen, his mother chose the goblin queen as her best friend.

“I have to go,” he told Redeyes and Crusher. He looked at Silverstain. She would be in months of therapy before she walked again. Chris wanted to cry, but she looked at him to say he should do his duty, and she would be fine.

“Everyone has been sent for,” Mother said, as Chris shut the door behind him. “Lady Alice wants to meet us in the first annex off the banquet hall. She doesn’t want there to be a scene.”

Chris could only nod. He removed his frightening aspect as they walked. He could make himself look like a goblin. In fact, he had been gifted with everything a dark elf might have to live in the dark and underground, but somehow, he felt for this meeting he ought to be just Chris—an ordinary almost sixteen-year-old human.

Lord Deepdigger, the goblin king, and Professor Deathwalker waited by the elevator at the end of the hall. Deathwalker waved as they approached.

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

MONDAY

The children are being gathered. The story is not done. The Heart has been broken. It has to be fixed or time might yet come to an end. Until Next Time, Happy Reading

*

Golden Door Chapter 9 David by the Pool

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

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 6 Angels & Visions, part 2 of 2

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“I am Mrs. Aster,” the fairy said. “Since no one here has the manners to properly introduce anyone.” She fluttered up to the side of the table and appeared to grow instantly. She became a stately woman, very old, but still very shapely and easy to look at. She wore a gown of silver sparkles and a very small circle of silver with small diamonds set around her head to keep back her long silver hair.

“The wings.” James noticed that they were gone.

“Now I could hardly walk around on Earth with wings, could I?” Mrs. Aster responded with an enchanting smile. She took a seat between Beth and David.

“Yes, well, you can call me plain old Deathwalker,” Mister Deathwalker said. He slipped into the seat beside Chris. “I’m too old to worry much about that other part. Anyway, our cook is Mrs. Copperpot.” The dwarf curtsied a little and the children heard the crackling in those old knees. “And you are very fortunate to have her to cook. She mastered the art some three hundred years ago.”

“I wouldn’t say mastered,” Mrs. Copperpot said shyly. She sat beside James who wanted to say she had mastered the art as far as he was concerned, but presently his mouth was too full to speak.

“And this,” Mister Deathwalker stopped in mid-introduction. “Where has that old coot got to?” he asked. They all heard a loud crash from the back room, followed by the words.

“I’m all right! I’m all right! I just slipped on nothing. You shouldn’t leave nothing lying around just anywhere, you know.” A six-foot-tall, most ancient man appeared in the door, supported by a large cane of hickory wood. He had on a scarlet ruffled shirt, a golden vest, complete with pocket watch and fob, something like a tuxedo dinner jacket with tails, and terribly pointed shoes beneath the long black pants that covered very long legs. “Inaros of Constantinople at your service,” he introduced himself, bowed regally, and tipped his hat which looked like an alpine hiker’s hat, complete with a feather on the side.

“He has pointed ears.” David noticed right away.

“Of course he does.” Mister Deathwalker whispered. “Most elves do, you know.”

“An elf?” David got excited.

“Yes.” Mister Deathwalker continued a little louder for the benefit of all. “And nearly deaf.”

“Deft?” Inaros sat beside David and leaned over to let the young man touch his pointed ears. Apparently, David was not the first young man in his experience who needed the assurance of that reality. “Why, I haven’t practiced the art of slight-of-hand in years, but I do thank you for the compliment, Professor Deathwalker, and as for the other part, plain Deathwalker rather than Mister Deathwalker, if I heard aright; might we say Dreamwalker? Perchance to dream, eh? Perchance to dream.”

Mrs. Aster leaned over to whisper to Beth and Chris. “He fancies himself an actor.”

“Yes, those were the days.” Inaros went on without having heard a thing, or perhaps he ignored the comment. “It was the Kairos, Peter Van Dyke, who introduced me to William, you know. A horse. A horse. My kingdom for a horse.”

“Shakespeare?” Beth wondered.

“Indeed. Is there any other William worthy of the name?” Inaros asked. “That was back when I was on the stage, a real stage, mind you, not like the silly things they call plays today. I became the inspiration for Oberon, you know. Some incidental time in my younger days.” Inaros held his chin up as if posing for a picture.

“Peter Van Dyke?” Chris started on another track.

“Your father in this life.” Inaros nodded. “Peter Van Dyke lived as Captain of the Golden Hawk, scourge of the Spanish Main.” He lifted his cane and pretended he had a sword. He almost knocked over the crystal decanter.

“My dad was a pirate?” James whispered to himself.

“My dad was a pirate?” David repeated it loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Not exactly your dad, but the Kairos, certainly,” Deathwalker said.

“Hardly.” Inaros looked offended by the pirate suggestion. “He was a Privateer, with papers from the queen, herself. After destroying the Spanish Armada, we took to the Caribbean. “Have at ye! Make all sail! Two points off the starboard bow Mister Givens! The Golden Hawk was the fastest ship afloat. Many a merchant feared the Flying Dutchman.”

“The Flying Dutchman?”

“Aye-Aye, Captain. Of course, there were real pirates then, not like the silly ones today, or the ones up on the so-called big screen.” He made a disgusted face. Clearly, he did not think much of Hollywood acting. “But that was some years ago, a good while before you young urchins ever came to mind. Like sweet infants, you are.” He looked at the children and meant it as a compliment, but Beth pushed her head up.

“I’ll be twenty next spring,” she said, asserting her adult status.

Inaros smiled. “I just turned fifteen hundred,” he said, and Beth and Chris both swallowed hard.

“I first fought beside the Kairos when she was the Duchess Genevieve, back in the days of Charlemagne, at the battle of Tours.” He tried to lift his cane again for another try at the decanter, but Deathwalker held the stick to the ground, and Mrs. Aster interrupted.

“Charlemagne’s grandfather, Charles Martel fought at the battle of Tours, and the Kairos was Lady Margueritte back then.”

“Have some more taters.” Mrs. Copperpot tried Chris, but he felt stuffed and waved her off. James raised his hand. “Ah, my James is a good eater for a little one.” She smiled and loaded James’ plate with enough mashed potatoes for six people.

“Eh? Eh?” Inaros got miffed at the interruption.

“I said—” Mrs. Aster began, but Inaros interrupted her in turn.

“I heard what you said. I’m not deaf, woman, but I am pontificating. Since when do the facts stand in the way of a good story?”

“Oh, well, if you’re pontificating,” Mrs. Aster responded, curtly.

“Pontificate away,” Deathwalker encouraged.

“More milk?” Mrs. Copperpot poured some for David.

“Now, where was I?” Inaros asked and rubbed his ancient chin.

“Tours,” Chris suggested.

“The Kairos was Lady Margueritte.” Beth shook her head.

“Ah, yes.” Inaros looked up, but his eyes were not focused on the glowing ceiling so much as his mind tried to remember. “Lady Margueritte. The Kairos is always a fine Lady when living a female life, not like today, you know. She would never lower herself to be a flapper. Not her.”

“Like Doctor Mishka?” Mrs. Aster interjected.

Inaros looked slightly offended again. “Nadia was a respectable professional in her thirties. An educated woman. A Doctor.”

“But still a fine figure of a woman,” Deathwalker said. “She could get away with the short stuff. She had mighty fine legs.”

“I blame that Hollywood crowd.” Inaros confided to David, but his voice sounded loud enough for everyone to hear.

Chris pushed his plate away. Beth had already finished. David nibbled on a roll and sipped his milk. James began to stare. Everyone could see he was ready for bed.

“So, Okay,” Chris said. “Those are all lovely stories, but now I think we have some questions, like who are you and how did you get here?”

“How did we get here?” James whispered and yawned.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 9 Three Ring Circus, part 3 of 4

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February turned to March, but outside of the calendar, one could hardly tell. The days remained cold and they had some snow in the swamp where the swamp remained half-frozen with ice. Giovanni thought there was no time like the present so he first taught Leonora, that is, he taught Harley the expression that March came in like a lion and went out like a lamb. He trusted her completely to know when to use that expression. She had proved her sense about that sort of thing as well as her comedic timing was much better than his.

The second week in March was not much better than the first, so again Giovanni thought there was no time like the present. He gathered Gabriella, once he got her away from the cooking fires, and he got Constantine, Madigan, Baklovani and Titania together with Madam Figiori and said he did not know how long his errand might take.

“What errand?” Constantine asked.

“Where are you going?” Titania wondered.

“You found a new act?” Madigan guessed.

“A new act. Yes,” Giovanni said. “And I need you people to keep things together while I am gone.” They all laughed a little because when did everything stay together? “Constantine. Seriously. You need to keep Nicholi, Gregori, and Rosa working on the swings, but under no circumstances are they allowed up there unless the net is beneath them.”

“I understand.”

“Madigan…”

“They fly through the air with the greatest of ease. I think Marci has the song perfectly.”

“She has a lovely voice,” Titania agreed.

“Just keep Sir Brutus in sight if he wakes. Don’t let Vader cut anyone and tell Rostanzio that he may be magnificent but he still needs to practice, and maybe come up with something new. Don’t let Rugello burn down anything while I am gone and watch out for Piccolo’s practical jokes. Tell Leonardo and Marta not to worry. I suppose it was inevitable that Marta’s mare should become pregnant. Leonardo and his stallion have a few tricks still, so we will make it work.”

“But where are you going?” Titania wondered.

“Far away,” Giovanni said as Leonora grabbed his arm.

“Not without me,” she said and gave him a hard stare.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said and stared right back at her. “And I’ll be taking Oberon with me. Does Needles have the tent ready?” He asked Oberon.

“All set, and Sibelius has the reinforced fence up,” Oberon said. “ But it is going to take some extra work to carry that fence around with us.”

“Understood,” he said and dismissed the group, though he kept Oberon with him and asked Madam Figiori to stay. Leonora was not going anywhere without him. Madam Figiori kindly did not say anything until Giovanni seemed to have a hard time finding the words.

“Will you be traveling as Nameless or Junior?” she asked, referring to the gods he had once been.

“Junior,” he said and took Leonora’s hands. “I’m going to borrow someone from the past to transport us instantly to where we need to go.”

Leonora looked at him and trusted him completely, but she shook her head. She did not understand what he was saying.

“This is not my first rodeo,” he said, and she grinned, knowing the expression. “In the past, I lived as different people, though still me” He paused. He honestly did not know how to explain it.

“You lived before?” she asked. “You have other lives—lifetimes?”

“I have. And I can borrow them sometimes when there is something that needs to be done that I cannot do myself.”

“I don’t understand that part. How do you borrow other lives?”

“Still my lives. Still me, just a different me, if you follow me.”

Leonora looked down at her hands in his. She shook her head again. “I am not aware of having other lives.”

“No. Most people don’t. It is once to die and after this the judgment.”

“But…”

“I don’t die. Well, I get old and die, but not all the way. For some reason I get put into a new womb and nine months later I get born all over again.” he looked at her hands and when he raised his eyes she raised her eyes with him and looked deeply into his eyes. “Very disturbing when it happens, too,” he said.

“But… You are not kidding are you?” She looked at Oberon and Madam Figiori and asked them. “Why are you not saying anything?”

“We know all about it,” Oberon said.

“Our people have known the Kairos for thousands of years,” Madam Figiori said.

“Kairos? Wait. Your people?”

“I’m an elf,” Madam Figiori said plainly and removed her glamour of humanity so her ears and all could be clearly seen. Leonora surprised them. She merely nodded like it was something that now made sense to her.

“And Needles and I are dwarfs,” Oberon added.

“I know you are little people…”

“No. Dwarfs.”

“But you don’t have a beard. In all the stories, dwarfs are bearded.”

“To my shame,” Oberon said and stuck out his chin. He rubbed it. “See? Smooth as a baby’s bottom. I can’t grow a beard. My fellow dwarfs asked me to leave.”

“And you sometimes glimpse the future,” Leonora said. Her eyes shot to Madam Figiori as she thought things through. “I bet the other elves did not like that.”

Madam Figiori looked down. “It is true.”

“And Sibelius?” she asked Giovanni and he answered.

“Half human. three eighths troll and one eighth ogre.”

“I thought so,” she said. “And you have lived before?”

“Lord Giovanni is our god,” Oberon said without thinking. “But he doesn’t like the G-word so it is Lord or Lady when he lives as a woman.”

“You have lived as a woman?” That shocked Leonora.

“Yes,” Giovanni said and turned on Oberon. “I wasn’t going to tell her that part right now. And as for the G-part, sometimes you need to keep things to yourselves,” he scolded Oberon and turned to Leonora. “It isn’t what you think.”

“You don’t know what I am thinking… Do you?”

“No. No idea what you are thinking,” he said and she grinned. “I just did not want to scare you off, er, because of how I feel about you.”

“Yes. You should explain that part, about how you feel.” Giovanni shook his head so she continued. “Anyway, given the way I feel, it is going to take a lot more than strange tales to scare me off. I’m not leaving… but I do have a question.” she paused to think it through. “Why are you telling me this? I mean, is this something everyone knows? Who else knows?”

“Only you, as far as I’m aware. Of course the little ones know.”

“Little ones? Oh, you mean the elves and dwarfs.”

“And others. Not going into details right now. Anyway, I wanted to tell you so I can take you with me to India.”

“The faraway place,” Leonora said and smiled at the idea.

Medieval 6: Giovanni 4 Old and New, part 1 of 2

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The next day, the winter camp looked deserted. That day, men came out from the local town and dug a hole under the old oak. They placed Don Vincenzo Giovanni the second in the hole and began to fill it in. Father rested next to Mother. On the other side laid the grave of Don Vincenzo Giovanni the first, his wife, and their daughter, Giovanni’s aunt that he barely remembered.

“The graveyard is filling up,” Constantine said. He was one of the ones who stayed, along with Madigan the musician, Baklovani the wolfman who hated Corriden, and Titania, the bearded fat lady who cried. Madigan got out his horn and played a short and soft funeral piece. Madigan was a concert quality musician, and a good leader of the musical group. Sadly, he no longer had a musical group.

The priest who came out from the church in town along with the grave diggers said all the appropriate words and prayers. He added one note before he returned to town. “Your father was a good man. I am sure he is in a better place.”

Giovanni said nothing. Titania said thank you for him. Constantine echoed the thank you while Madigan looked at his horn and lowered his eyes. Moments later, Constantine pointed and let out a honk, sounding like disturbed goose or a missed note on Madigan’s horn. Everyone looked.

Four people walked across the swamp in an area that was not safe to walk but did not seem to be bothered by the water or the mud. It took a minute for Giovanni to figure it out. The male dwarf had no beard! The female dwarf, however, had some straggling bits of hair on her chin. The man beside them looked nearly seven feet tall and far too broad in the shoulders for an ordinary man. Giovanni feared for one second that it was a half giant, but then he noticed some troll in there, and maybe a small bit of ogre. The woman was clearly an elder elf, pure blood, and a high elf at that. Madigan and Titania both took a giant step back, and Constantine took two steps back, but Giovanni just folded his arms and waited for their guests to arrive.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.

“Lady Alice sent us,” the dwarf said, and both Giovanni and the dwarf wife responded.

“Liar.”

“Okay. Okay,” the dwarf put up his hands like he wanted to start again. “We were in Avalon and saw when your father died. We saw when Corriden the scoundrel deserted you and all the traitors that went with him. We thought you could use some acts and help to keep the Don Giovanni circus up and running.”

“Don’t give up,” the elf said. “Even now there are people on the road coming to audition.”

Giovanni nodded. He understood they had little ones, elves, fairies, and dwarfs scouring the roads, looking for suitable acts and suggesting they come to Venice, but he caught something else in the life of this elf, and he spoke. “I am sorry your troop asked you to leave, but the circus is like a family. We can be your family.”

The elf’s eyes got big before she lowered her head and spoke softly. “I am old now, but my lord is kind to your servant.”

“Madam Figiori,” the dwarf said, pointing to the elf. “She is the best fortune teller in the business. Of course you know the elves frown on soothsaying, and she even sometimes gets glimpses of the future. Sad.” The dwarf shook his head.

“But what about you?” Giovanni asked. He looked at the giant who stood quietly holding his hat. He glanced at the dwarf wife holding her bundle of cloth before his eyes returned to the dwarf.

“I’m Oberon,” he said.

“Not your real name,” Giovanni said with a smile. Madam Figiori was not her real name either, but he was used to circus people using fake names, so it did not bother him. “What is your story?”

“Can’t grow a beard,” he said in a very flat voice. “I got nary a hair on my chin, cheeks, or lip. I don’t know why.” He paused and looked at who he was talking to. The Kairos was technically his god from ancient days. “You might know why. But anyway, I figure you need a dwarf and a clown at that. Plus, I’m good with figures, so I can keep the accounts straight and pay everyone, and make sure everyone gets a fair share.”

Giovanni turned his eyes back to the dwarf wife.

“Now my wife is Goldiwig, but everyone calls her Needles. She is a fair cook but a genius with needle and thread. I figure she can make all your costumes and keep the tents from leaking besides.” He puffed out his chest like he was proud of her, but she looked down and turned slightly red. “Just look at this.” He held up a pair of shorts and stretched the elastic top. “Genius, I tell you. She calls it dwarf weave, as opposed to fairy weave. Guaranteed to fit.”

“Elastic!” Giovanni named it. “One size doesn’t fit all, though.”

“No,” the dwarf wife agreed. “But it will keep your pants on if you put on a pound or two or take some off.”

“Needles then,” Giovanni agreed and looked at the big fellow.

“This here is Sibelius,” Oberon said and Giovanni interrupted as he remembered.

“Half human. three-eighths troll and one-eighth ogre. I remember your mother, and your brothers Oswald and Edmund. Did they do well and did you live well in your new place?”

“We did,” Sibelius said with a big smile.

“And how is your father, Vortesvin? Still haunting the mountains of Norway?”

“Yes. He is well, but old now.”

“Yes. You must be what, ninety-five or so?” Giovanni was not sure where that number came from, but it sounded about right.

“Something like that.”

“Well, we could certainly use a strong man now that Corriden has left, thank goodness.

Madigan, Baklovani, and Titania had inched back up by then, and even Constantine stepped forward. Giovanni introduced them and said, “I think we have a foundation for a new and better circus.” He would go with this gift and see who showed up before April. He just thought he better get some good acts or it will be a short circus.

Needles broke the ice with a comment to Titania. She touched the straggly bits of hair on her own chin and said, “I like your beard. How did you get it to grow so full?”

After a second, Titania answered in her squeaky, high pitched little voice. “Thank you. It’s natural.”

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MONDAY

Don Giovanni slowly builds his new circus as acts come all through the winter to try out. Just when he is exhausted from it all, the trouble shows up. Happy Reading…

 

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