Lucid Waking

Archive for the ‘God Teacher’ Category

The Boy

        “Who is she?” the little boy asked Daniel pointing to a framed photograph on the wall.
        Daniel turned from the canvas he was painting and followed the boy’s finger before quickly answering. “No one. She’s nobody.”
        Daniel knew that wouldn’t keep the boy’s curiosity for long, but for the moment the boy was surprisingly quiet. A moment passed before he said:
        “Does she have something to do with the lady who left me here?”
        “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “And I mean it. Stop pestering me with questions of that social worker who brought you here.”
        There was another pause and then the boy said:
        “You’re lying. That lady isn’t nobody. Who is she?”
        Daniel sighed. “My late wife.”
        “Late?”
        “She died.”
        “Oh.” Silence and then, “she was very pretty. What was her name?”
        “Margaret.”
        “How’d she die?”
        “In a plane accident. She was a pilot in the war and her plane was shot down.”
        The boy didn’t answer. Daniel continued painting in silence carefully outlining the figure in front of him with a thin line of light. He didn’t want to be thinking about Margaret, but now his mind would go nowhere else. She was such a strong individual it put him to shame, but yet, she was tender when she wanted to be and it was when she wasn’t thinking about work that he loved her the most. When she died, he felt more empty than anything until the funeral and occasionally it would hit him how fragile life was and how much he missed her. The days always passed more slowly when such moods took over.
        Then there was the matter of the boy. A woman had knocked on his door several months ago and introduced herself as a social worker and claimed that this boy was his nephew, now orphaned with no other kin. But Daniel didn’t have siblings and he found it unlikely that Margaret’s entire family would be gone that he had to take care of the child. It was a peculiar situation and after a quick DNA test, he surmised that he was in no way related to the boy by blood. Yet, he didn’t want to turn the child out on the street, so he thought the boy could stay regardless of the unusual clarity of questioning the boy seemed to have for his age of seven and the even more unusual understanding he seemed to have of situations that Daniel even considered out of his grasp.
        The stool the boy was sitting on creaked as he fidgeted. Daniel knew that was his cue to clean up his paints. He glanced at the little figure that waited patiently for him to finish. Once cleaned up, he lead the boy upstairs and fed him lunch. Daniel sat down across from him and watched quietly contemplating.

Author’s comments on post 348: I’ve been very busy these last few days and been doing my best to write every day. This doesn’t mean I necessarily get a chance to edit what I’ve written and publish it within a timely manner. Bare with me and trust that I am writing and I will post more than three posts this month.

A Silver Cage

        "What was it, exactly, you were hoping to see?" the man at the ticket booth asked us once we had left, disappointed, from the blue striped tent behind him. The rather large sign leading us to this destination had us rather excited for a mystical bird with large shimmering feathers in all sorts of peacock and macaw colors, but what we saw made us think we had wasted five dollars. The billboard had promised something new, unusual, and unique, but we felt like a glance outside the window would give us something more.
        "Anything but a gold finch," my friend said. He had asked for our money back and seemed overly intent on fighting for it.
        "That’s because you didn’t stay for the show," the ticket-seller said. "It’s a magical bird, you know."
        "What does it do? Dance, back flips, cook?"
        The ticket man smiled. "You’ll have to watch and see for yourself."
        At least he was kind enough to let us back in without paying a second time, though we were both so deflated anything that happened next, we had thought, was likely to make us feel worse. The tent filled up, but the mood did not improve. Perplexed whispers filled the arena as the golden bird did nothing but flutter about its cage. Domed and wide, the cage stood about six feet tall and had a human-sized door among the narrow silver bars. The bird was utterfly dwarfed in its surroundings and very nervous. We sat near the front as if that would change our deflated predisposed notions of the spectacle we paid ten dollars to see.
        My friend had almost grabbed my wrist to leave again when we were shushed by a rattle of the cage bars. The flapping of feathers stopped and so did the occational twittering. We turned to face a tall woman slipping into a gown we hadn’t noticed lying on the bottom of the cage. She reached between the bars and opened the barred door, stepping into the arena and gaging her audience. Her eyes were a soft blue and her hair the color of butter. Before she had mesmerized the crowed with her glance, music crept from off stage urging her into a dance.
        I don’t remember much else about that night. We left shortly after she finished dancing, though many of the other spectators waited for an encore. We returned many times after that ,but the girl in the cage always did the same thing. One time, I stayed later, but she didn’t have any room in her cage to do much else but stand up and cry. I know she didn’t realize I was at the top of the stairs because whenever we stayed later other times, she would watch us curiously until we left. At the end of August, the carnival left on the next rain out of town. But carnivals after that, I still waited for the bird man and his finch. Something about her performance and after show tears made an impact–I realized only later it was because I was in a similar situation: trapped to perform at society’s whim. I relaized this on an airplane to interview for a new job and when I did, I cried.

Madren’s Choice (The Beginning)

(Remember the original Madren’s Choice? Well, this is the beginning. It might make things a little clearer, but don’t read the other one unless you want to know what happens in the end before you find out what’s happening now. More will be added later.)

        “It seems like such a terrible waste,” Madren said, “of such a beautiful day.”
        Her sister, Mara, brushed a piece of gray hair out of her eyes. “Well if you would work faster, we’d be done quicker.”
        “Spoil sport,” Madren said, bending over to pick some more weeds out of the family vegetable garden. “What’s got you tied in knots?”
        “I don’t want to be stuck doing chores any more than you do,” Mara said.
        Madren smiled. “You told Sam you’d be there at three didn’t you?”
        Mara looked up quickly. “Don’t let mom know!”
        Madren pulled up a small tree that was growing in the yard and pretended to ignore her sister. Mara just sighed and continued raking. She was two years older than Madren and the oldest girl in the family. Her hair was charcoal silver, but her eyes were an electric blue and very striking.
        “When do you think these tomatoes will actually grow?” Mara asked, incredulously. “They’ve been flowering for months with no fruit!”
        “Pretty soon. That one has a little green—”
        Madren was cut off by a loud boom behind her and both girls dropped their things and turned to the noise. The screams of people and livestock along with yelling filled their quiet neighborhood. Smoke rose up from a house on the hill and the commotion was easily seen from their position below. Madren and Mara hopped their small log fence and ran to help.
        It was unclear what was going on and people were running back and forth shouting out orders and shoving buckets of water on the cottage. The lady of the house was running towards the town hall with her children, while her husband and other men who were around tried to put out the fire. Madren saw her brother and their father running back and forth from the stream in their field to the house. Even their youngest brother, Jacob, who was only ten years old, was struggling under the weight of a full water bucket. Madren ran to grab an empty bucket, but her eldest brother grabbed her wrist before she could fill it up.
        “Elix, what’s happening?” she asked.
        “Probably just an accidental fire. But stay with mom in case there are raiders.”
        Mara caught up to them and put her hand gently on Madren’s shoulder.
        “Take Jacob with you,” Elix ordered before another crack of the collapsing house sent him running back with a full bucket.
        Suddenly there was another crash and crack farther in towards town. Madren turned her back on it and ran to her house, with Mara close behind carrying Jacob. Someone yelled out “raiders” before Madren and Mara had reached the house. Jacob was crying.
        Madren shut the door and locked it, breathing a sigh of relief, but Mara was already searching the ground floor for their mother.
        “Mom?” Mara called out. Silence answered her call. Mara crept upstairs towards their bedroom. Madren heard her sister call out again, her voice trembling. Jacob started sobbing louder.
There was a crash of glass from another house nearby; the loud noise made Madren jump and Mara quickly descended the steps to the ground floor.
        “They’ve started burning the barn,” she said. She could barely keep her voice in control.
        “Let’s go down to the cellar,” Madren suggested and ran with her sister to the stairs in the kitchen. They had gotten the door shut just in time for their kitchen door to slammed open sending hundreds of dishes on a shelf crashing to the floor. These people were laughing and their voices were low. The humans went through her house, crashing things to the ground and pulling down tapestries off the wall.
        Jacob was too terrified to do anything and he sat in Mara’s arms staring at the wall over her shoulder. Mara moved silently and quickly behind their jam shelf and sat down on the floor. Madren quickly followed her. They listened to the noise above their heads in silence.
        “Stupid elves,” someone standing next to the door shouted.
        “Ah, but they have the best mead,” another answered. The group laughed and banged through the kitchen some more. Madren could feel her heart beating in her throat as she prayed they wouldn’t come down to the cellar. She heard the heavy footsteps of the men go upstairs and other leave to terrorize other areas. She could hear malicious laughter outside with the sudden cracks of burning wood and incessant screams. She could almost taste the blood and she realized she was biting her lip hard enough to make it bleed. Mara was pale, but calm and strong. She rocked Jacob back and forth gently.
        Finally the men left and the roar of fire was almost gone. Madren tentatively climbed the stairs. She knew Mara was too scared to object. But just as she reached the door, there was a blinding flash. She could feel the color green and then, her eyes saw black. She opened her eyelids.
        Nothing had changed. She looked around. The jars were still full on the shelves and nothing had collapsed. Outside, it was bright and sunny. The village was quiet and still. There were no more screams or crashing and silence filled the space.
        “I’m going to look around, Mara,” she said. Madren opened the door and stepped into her kitchen. She dodged broken bottles and shattered dishes to glance out the window to what it really looked like outside.
        The ground was covered in blood and ash. She couldn’t see who was killed, but the human men who had raided her village were carrying several bodies towards the center of town where she assumed they would set up a burial pyre. Her stomach tightened. The elves believed in reincarnation and the worst anybody could do for the dead was to cremate them.
        She was about to head back to the cellar when the door into her kitchen burst open again.
        “Hey!” a tall, auburn haired man called out. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.”
        Madren turned to run, but he grabbed her arm and a fluid motion, slung her over his shoulder.
        “The General will sure be happy to see this little squirmer.”
        She smacked him with her fists hard, but he didn’t seem to notice. He brought her past dozens of houses towards the center of town. She saw shops burnt and livestock killed in the ensuing fight. She tried not to cry and focused on the ground at the man’s feet. Even the grass was completely gone and there was nothing left but barren earth.
        When he set her down she saw that the town hall had been kept in tact, but there were scorch marks on the outside of the building. The bodies of the town’s inhabitants were piled next to it, in front of the blacksmith’s shop. Smoke barreled out of the latter building, a sign she knew as a burning forge. One of the guards saw her and laughed at her before motioning for another person to join him. He whispered his orders before letting the second man go and crouched down to her level.
        “Don’t know how you slipped past,” he said starting to tie her hands with rope. She kicked him in the jaw and he fell backwards. Suddenly she was grabbed by at least half a dozen other people all pulling her in separate directions.
        “Fiesty one, huh?”
        She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but she felt herself dropped and as she looked ahead again caught eyes with someone who was obviously in charge. He looked down at her and turned his head and spit.
        “Alive? That’s not right.” He kicked her hard in the ribs.
        “Maybe, the Lady’s—”
        “Don’t finish that sentence if you want to live,” the General said. The recruit who started the statement stepped back quickly to the ranks.
        “Call the Lady over here and tell her it’s an emergency,” the General said. “Now what to do with you,” he said stepping over Madren so he could seem taller. She shot out her tied legs into his shin.
        He laughed. “Nice try, you worm, but I’m not as weak as my captain.”
        He smacked her across the face.
        “What in the world is going on here?!” A woman on a silver white horse came galloping into the clearing. Her slanted eyes were tiger-lily orange and she wore a rather tight green leather armor. Her hair was blood red and was pulled up into a rather large bun. Protruding from her back were two large butterfly wings, which rustled in the small breeze.
        “One of my men found someone alive in the houses, my lady.”
        “Pah,” the woman led her horse forward. “All this trouble because of a live one.”
        “You had your promises.”
        “I intend to keep them, if you keep yours. Continue stacking bodies and then we’ll deal with this one special.”
        “You ugly spider!” Madren yelled. Everyone turned to her, some of the men close to laughter. Madren knew the fae loved their looks and even the best among them were terribly vain. Looking at this beautiful butterfly woman, it was the only thing Madren could think of to really sting. The woman on the horse turned bright red.
        “You little maggot!”
        “The same to you, mirror breaker.”
        The woman raised her hand and smacked the air. “That’ll teach you to sling insults at an upper fae.”
        “You—” Madren croaked and coughed. Her throat seized up and suddenly, became still. She tried to speak, but the words weren’t being formed and all the breath she pushed past her voice box became colomns of air.
        “That witch,” the upper fae said, spraying the ground with spit from her pronunciation. “Burn her alive.”
        But just as one of the near soldiers reached forward to grab Madren there was a gunshot. Everyone paused and in the following stillness the recruit that reached to grab her fell. Madren followed the line of motion, her heart beating fast. In the sudden silence, the fae had disappeared along with her silver steed.
        The General recovered first and turned towards the noise. “Ah, Mr. Aberdeen. Nice of you to arrive.” His voice dripped with superficial politeness and sarcasm.
        “Thank you, General.” The man was tall and cloaked. His gun disappeared quickly into the folds of his robe as he walked forward into the circle. His eyes were dark jade and his hair a chestnut brown. He glanced down at Madren before helping her to a standing position.
        “What do you think you’re doing?” someone yelled from the middle of the ranks.
        “Taking what the General owes me,” the stranger said.
        “You idiot,” the General said. “What makes you think you can barge in here and take this one? I’ve got orders to kill every last person in this stupid town and you’re not going to cause me to lose my head.”
        The stranger laughed. “Tell your employer one won’t make a difference in her calculations. But if you prefer, I could tell the gremlins you’ve been denying them payment for that favor they gave you.”
        The General cringed ever so slightly. “You! Cut her bonds,” he ordered. The stranger stood where he was. “I hope you realize I’m putting my life on the line.”
        “You should have remembered that before you made pacts with gremlins.”
        The General scoffed and waved his soldiers to continue salvaging for bodies. The stranger pushed Madren in front of him and continued walking down the road leading to the town. They walked until the day turned to dusk and Madren’s feet were cramping. She tried to get the stranger’s attention, but her voice wouldn’t work for her. Suddenly he pulled her off the road and through the forest to a large pine tree. He lifted up the bottom branches and pulled out his backpack. Then glancing at Madren’s weary expression, he sighed and broke of a couple of branches near the bottom of the tree in order to make room for them underneath it.
        “Sit down,” he said. Madren followed his orders. He pulled out food from his pack and handed her a small portion.
        “First I want to make it clear that whether you like it or not you’re property. Ever since your village has been sacked. Now, you belong to me so you’ll follow no ones orders but my own. Got it?”
        Madren nodded.
        “Don’t speak until spoken to and you’re going to sleep outside the shelter. I’ll feed you, but if you can catch game, all the better.”
        Madren stayed silent. She ached everywhere especially when she realized that this man who had saved her was no better than the General and his higher fae. At least, she thought, he wasn’t going to kill her.
        “What’s wrong?” he asked breaking her thoughts. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
        He reached over to pull her chin closer. “Hmmm. That’s what I thought.” He chuckled. “You must’ve gotten Lilly very angry indeed. Never insult a higher fae.”
        Madren rolled her eyes.
        “Well, we might as well start lessons. You’re going to learn to speak through telepathy. If you want to know how it works, ask a wizard. All I know is it’s very useful if you don’t want anyone to eavesdrop.” He chuckled at his own joke.
        “The technique is called Ped-ore,” he continued. “Have you heard of it?”
        Madren shook her head.
        “I’m not surprised. Just think of a sentence.”
         Ok. I’m cold, she thought.
        “You’re not thinking it hard enough. Everything you say has an emotion and when you’re just starting those emotions have to be strong to come through. Try again.”
        I’m freezing! she thought. She pulled the frozen pain from her toes and fingers and tried to add the worn out feeling in her legs and feet.
        You’re what? His voice echoed through her head. She shook it violently and thought again.
       I’m cold.
        Oh. Well too bad, he returned. He turned towards the base of the tree and leaned against it. Go to sleep.
        Madren tried to roll up in ball to conserve her body heat. She could barely feel her nose and she wondered why it was so cold.
        Because we’re getting into Northern territory, her companion said. The higher fae of this land is Shannondoa and she’s an ice fae. Not quite as angry as Lilly, but don’t go insulting her.
       I didn’t think you’d eavesdrop, Madren returned bitterly. But he didn’t seem to hear her.
        Go to sleep and don’t worry about it.
        Madren tried to use the leaves as cover, but it didn’t seem to work. Slowly, she let her natural instincts down and drifted off to freezing sleep.

Quintet for Piano, Violin, Viola, Violincello, and Double Bass in A Maj., Op. posth. 114, D. 667 (”The Trout”), Mvmt 2 by Franz Schubert

            “Echapée, changement, glissade, pas de chat, arabesque, pasé, down, chaine, step. Again!”
            Rachel gazed longingly at the slender muscular legs flying back and forth with perfect precision, the colorful leotards flying across the small practice space. Feet arched upon their toes in graceful lines, the arc of supple arms extending to gentle fingers flashed and flew back and forth as the dancers drifted across the room, and ran back to the other end to do the routine again.
            “Good! Now tomorrow I just want to see the girls in the chorus and the day after that, Alice, you’ll start your part. Good night.”
            The girls bowed gently to their teacher and then turned to curtsey to the piano player in the corner of the room. He bowed his head gently while gathering his music. Rachel sighed and patted her legs longingly. The girls filed past her, some smiling if they saw her, others just walking past, chattering about various aches and pains.
            “Ready Rachel?” her sister asked her, coming out of the studio with her dance bag on her shoulder.
            “I guess so.”
            “I’m going to have to give Daniel a ride first, ok?”
            “Yeah.”
            “I’m sorry,” Rachel’s sister brushed her fingers through Rachel’s hair. “I wish you didn’t have to come.”
            “No it’s fine,” Rachel said, wheeling her self in her wheel chair to the main lobby of the studio. “I love to watch.”
            “I know,” her sister said with a sigh. “And sometimes I wish you could be there with me.”
            Rachel smiled. “But I am there, aren’t I? In your heart.”
            “Yes, you are. When did you get so wise, you little squirt?”
            “Well I couldn’t walk…I had to get the brains.”
            Rachel’s sister laughed. “Oh, I see.”
            “You know,” Rachel’s sister said after a silence, “I dance for you when I’m on stage. I think of you watching in the audience and I just sort of…do the best I can. I might not be as good as Alice, but…”
            “You’re better than Alice to me, and that’s all that counts.”
            Daniel came out of the studio with his music under his arm and sighed. “Oh, hey, Rach.”
            “Hi, Dan,” Rachel said, smiling wide. “Let’s go.”
            Rachel’s sister smiled and pushed the wheelchair out of the studio and to their car waiting on the street for them.

(Listen to the song (it starts about 33 seconds in). And if you are interested, because it’s quite interesting: parts of a Documentary of Itzhak Perlman playing this song in London. Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 (which is the same link if you want to listen to just the second movement), part 5, and part 6)

More than Gold: End

        I went back along the passageway, being careful to listen at the door before I went through. There was no talking or commotion that I could tell, but I kept close to the ground pushing the door open and keeping my back to the wall as I went. The ringing silence hit my ears and I was almost at the third tapestry when the door opened in the opposite corner of the throne room with a bang.
        “She just disappeared,” the familiar voice of the guard said to someone.
        “We’ll find her,” another gruff voice said.
        I took the opportunity to push open the servant door, which thankfully was right where Princess Oriana had said it would be and slipped behind the tapestry letting the door close behind me silently. Also thankfully, the hinges were well used and silent. I had faith they didn’t hear anything as they were talking.
        I slipped through the passages as straight as I could. They were well lit, but strangely I didn’t run into any servants through the tunnels. I stopped at the sound of voices on one end of a passage. The room seemed quiet except for people talking, but what really piqued my interest was the sound of a name.
        “Sir Rhydderch, please, let’s not be irrational. The girl is absolutely frightened.”
        Rhydderch. Samuel Rhydderch. It wasn’t such a common last name in any of the empires and though there was a slight chance it could be another Sam Rhydderch, I highly doubted it.
        The last place I had heard that name was on a wanted poster back in Edelsburg, in a town a couple hours’ ride from where I was currently. I had chased him for avoiding the police and charges of arson, theft, and scrounging public funds. It made sense I would find him in the gold capital of the world.
        “Of course she’s frightened. She should be afraid of the king! Fear establishes power and maintains it.”
        “But is there no other way of getting the money?”
        I crept closer to the end of the passage being extra careful to stay in the shadows. I could see Samuel Rhydderch, looking just as I remembered him. The king sat at the head of the table, keeping silent this whole time and looking grave and focused. The third person in the room I could only see the back of his head, but he was finely dressed and seemed quite flustered in the way he talked. I sat down a ways from the opening so I could keep an eye on the meeting.
        “Of course not!” Sam said hitting the table “The king is now among the poorest of his subjects and this cannot continue! Besides, you need money for a larger army. Edelsburg keeps getting larger.”
        “Nonsense, Edelsburg continues to be friendly to us,” the other man said. “And the treasury is full of taxes.”
        “A daughter is no good, anyway,” Sam continued. “They cost much more than sons between dowry and always shopping for more goods, and jewelry. Women are much more costly than men.”
        It took all I had to stop myself from laughing. Disregarding the sexism of the statement, it was incredibly ironic that this man had cost the kingdom of Edelsburg hundreds of thousands of dollars almost annually before he was traced and caught. In this case, a man was much more costly than any woman I know.
        “Her gilding date is set,” the king said finally, standing up, “and I believe that’s final on the matter. You have far too many personal reasons involved in this, Lord Argyris for me to believe you have the interest of the country at heart.”
        Personal matters?
        “Please, sir, a final word with your daughter?”
        The king looked at Argyris with contempt but then waved him away with his hand. “I will allow it, but do not be there when I arrive to take her.”
        Both Samuel and Argyris bowed deeply as the king passed before glaring at each other behind his back. Samuel followed the king out while Argyris stayed behind. The door was shut thoroughly behind them before Argyris moved towards the passage. I stood up and made towards the nearest branch away.
        I managed to duck out of the way and slide into darkness before he got to the passage. He was so much into this thoughts that he walked past me without a glance and continued down the passage the way I had just come. I moved forward into the room. There was no other way to go besides the throne room and, for obvious reasons, that was not my best option. I exited the door out the hall and following the path of mirrors and statues, found the spot behind a vase of flowers where I could hide. The king’s chambers looked like they were down the hall, so I cast my luck on the fact that they would come down this path again and lead me down to the fountain.
        My gut instinct proved correct as the door opened again later in the evening and the king came through the door leading a procession of guards. His daughter was in the middle and Samuel held up the rear. I followed them at a distance, but close enough to see the path they were taking.
        Finally they came to a door with a silver doorknob and red ribbon tied around it. The king tapped it twice with his finger before stepping back and letting it swing open revealing a blue-lit stairwell before them. He continued down the stairs, everyone else following as well. I knew I had a clear shot to capture Sam and get away from here, but tying him up might make noise and if it didn’t, his absence would alert the guards.
        I followed closely behind him and down the steps into a large shimmering room designed in black with gold accents and flowers along the wall. In the center of the room was a large fountain, still spewing water that fell into gold basin after gold basin until it reached the pool below, which was large enough to be used as a public bath if it didn’t have water made of gold.
        Because the walls were so dark, I could easily hide in the shadows so long as I was quiet and I sat on the penultimate stair and watched the procedure. I was neither sure what to expect nor what to do, but watching was the first step to anything. Timing is crucial.
        Oriana was in the middle of the line and her father was at the front. As soon as he had sat down, the line of guards split to make an isle for her. Samuel was in the back of the line. She turned around, but finding the way blocked, turned back and made her way to the edge of the fountain.
        Someone started reciting something I could guess was probably a holy book. My stomach dropped as I listened like everyone else to their justification for drowning her in gold. The speaker went on and on about sin and redemption and how she must pay for what she stole, though they glossed over exactly what it was.
They lifted her by her bonds and held her up above the water. She was crying silently and no matter how sick I felt about it, I couldn’t figure out what to do. The guard was standing precariously on the edge of the water, holding one end of a rope that went through a pulley in the ceiling. I considered hitting him with something, but that would cause him to drop her in the water. Even if I came out of my hiding spot, they would drop her anyway.
        “Your majesty, there’s someone here,” Sam said.
        I looked into his eyes looking in my direction. I slunk farther back into the shadows.
        “What? Lieutenant, tie the prisoner up and go look.”
        Samuel didn’t wait for help and took a step closer to the stairs. He looked up, but whether he saw me or not, but he kept walking up them. I took out my rope and held it behind my back until he was right next to me. I swung it over his neck and pushed gently, putting pressure on his windpipe but not enough to smash it.
        He struggled against me a bit, but only managed to almost choke himself by falling down the stairs. Being merciful, I went with him as he fell. The guard who had come to help Samuel had backed up, but he was closest to where we landed in the middle of guards at the bottom of the stairs.
        There was a great commotion as people tried grabbing me, but I kept my hand on the rope and Sam as he stumbled with me to the corner of the room.
        I had no weapons save speed, agility, and brute strength. I also had my rope, but it was being used. However, if I left it, someone would come along and let him free. I dodged flying weapons and limbs, somehow holding onto the end of the rope. I probably survived it only because I was using Samuel as a shield and he was practically royalty. One of the newer guards made a step and a swing for me leaving his right side open for me to barge into him knocking him down and another soldier next to him. There was a splash and a pause as I realized where I was and what had happened.
        The water churned for a bit before returning to normal and bubbling happily with a new gold treasure in its depths. I had no time at all before I was almost hit in the head by a sword hilt, but I managed to spot it out of the corner of my eye. The guard’s sword had fallen into the water right next to him, out of my reach. I swore under my breath. The king had left his throne, not surprisingly, so I started to make my way to that hoping to tie Sam to it and then be able to use both hands to somehow win a fight against half a dozen soldiers. Well, only four, one was by the king and another I had pushed in the water. I had been in fistfights before, but what persuaded me that I could do it to four people at once with weapons was beyond me, probably the adrenaline.
Luckily Oriana was not gagged, but she had found out the hard way trying to swing to the side would only pull the rope so she was closer to the water.
        “Get him to the fountain,” she yelled over the noise. There was a loud smack and a groan from her but I didn’t lose a moment waiting.
        I pulled on the end of the rope the opposite direction and went towards the fountain. I was kicking bodies as hard as I could, trying to disarm them with whatever skills I did or did not have. I somehow managed to push someone else into the water on my way before managing to get Samuel by the edge of the fountain kicking him in the small of the back. He fell and ended up lying on the edge of the fountain only being supported by my rope. I hated to see anyone like that, even a criminal. He managed to get to his feet well enough pulling me closer to the fountain, but leaving both of us in a position that even if I got pushed in, he would go first.
        “Enough,” the king yelled. I wondered what had taken him so long.
        The guards stepped aside sheathing their weapons and making a path for the king to glare at me. I stared back. He took a step forward.
        “Who are you?”
        “Carmen Teasdale.”
        The king gave me a shocked look. “Why are you here? I didn’t think a bounty hunter would come to save a princess?”
        “I’m just here for Samuel Rhydderch, what you do with your daughter is your own choice.”
        “I see. You do know he’s under protection of law? He’s a king’s advisor.”
        “You do know what he’s done to the government of Edelsburg?”
        The king harrumphed. “What he’s done to the king of Edelsburg does not concern me.”
        “Maybe not, but if I don’t take him away alive, someone else will take him away, dead. If he’s alive, you can have a talk with the king of Edelsburg about getting him freed.”
        The king laughed. “What position are you in to make deals with me? I wave my hand and my guards will turn you into gold.”
        “At the expense of your right hand advisor. If I go, so does he.”
        The king stood a while in thought. Oriana groaned behind me, but I didn’t turn around.
        “I suppose you’ll ask then for my daughter to be set free. You’re getting too involved in ethics.”
        “I’m merely doing my job. And I never said anything about your daughter. But… there’s more than gold in the world.”
        “This coming from a bounty hunter.”
        “I do more than just get money. My job is getting tricky criminals off the streets. People get paid for their jobs. But my job does not involve helping out with family problems. I’ll leave with just Samuel and won’t bother you again.”
        “Provided I let you,” the king raised his hand and his guards started to move towards me again.
        “Well, a fight would be easier if I didn’t have a rope to hold onto,” I said nonchalantly.
        The king looked from me to his guards and put his hand down. “Fine, you may go. But tell your king I am not happy to see my advisor off.”
        I made my way towards the stairs after tying up Samuel’s hands so he could follow me all the way to Theirn in front of the castle. I gathered up my things from the guards at the front gate, who were utterly oblivious to the goings on inside. I suppose that made my escape easier. Finally armed again, I mounted my horse and tied the end of the rope to the horn of my saddle.
        “You’re walking,” I said to him. He glared at me, but I started moving.
        “You know he wasn’t really going to gild her,” Sam said. “He was getting second thoughts.”
        “That’s not our business,” I said. “Especially not yours.”
        Indentations of sand where our feet had been led out from the city and into the large expanse of desert in front of us. Though I knew we’d be there by nightfall, I felt like I still had a long way to go.

More than Gold: Searching

        I watched them go for a moment before turning my back on the alleyway. I had no ideas where to go to find the thief I was following, but I knew the place to start was to tell the king his kingdom was harboring a criminal. Having him on my side was much easier than doing it alone. For one, I didn’t have to escape the law because it would be on my side. I had learned my lesson well after the incident where I had to track down a criminal in foreign streets thinking I would be protected by Edelsburg law system. The only reason I avoided jail was because they had no evidence I had done anything wrong other than trespassing. But even though it was a waste in bail, I learned my lesson: it was easier going along with the law.
        The castle was the easiest to find. It was the center of the labyrinth: the starting and ending point that all paths led to. The two guards gave me minimum hassle, but by the time I went in, I had no armor, weapons, or horse. The king’s hall rose up into a dome in the middle of the room while the outer circle remained at even height. It was where his servants stood and gold statues supported it up. Some had terrified looks on their faces and all were facing outward at the passage around the side of the room. The throne was the only thing not gold: birch wood with black velvet seat underneath a giant dragon skeleton overlooking the person on the seat.
        “We’ll get him for you, Miss,” one of the guards said behind me. He walked around to the left of the room and vanished behind the gigantic skeleton. A door opened and shut leaving the room ringing with silence.
        I walked over to the wall and leaned against it feeling the cold stone and trying not to stare into the eyes of a terrified pillar. Her hands were bound as well as her feet, and looked much more real than any other statue I had seen before. I reached out to touch it and that’s when I noticed the sound of sobs. I followed the wall to the right of the room, my ear as close to the stone as possible, backtracking when the sound got faint. The door opened on the other side of the room and shut loudly, the sound echoing throughout the domed space.
        “He’s not seeing anyone today, Miss…Miss?”
        My hand brushed behind a tapestry, past a seam, and onto wood. I lowered my hand and pushed the door. There was a tiny bit of give. I continued pushing and fell behind the tapestry, putting all of my weight into the door. In a creak, the door gave way and I slipped behind it listening as hard as I could to the guard’s reaction.
        He called out a little while before running off and I knew that gave me a couple minutes to find out where I was and to get out. I sighed. In the first five minutes of my meeting and I’ve gotten myself into trouble. The corridor behind me was dark but not dusty, there were torch brackets on the wall every three feet or so, and a light at the end of the hall. Luckily the passage didn’t open up straight into the other room, and there was a thin paper-like material covering the hole that allowed enough light to see by into the dark passage.
        Somehow in my panic, I had managed to find the source of the sobbing. A girl was lying on the bed her back up to the ceiling and completely engrossed in whatever she was crying about. Her feet were tied with rope, but her hands were free and clutching the pillow. There were no servants in the room but a quick check against the paper made it clear I wouldn’t get in without making a lot of noise.
        The girl pushed herself out of bed with both her feet on the floor and took a shaky breath. She looked at me, but I knew she didn’t see anything and then hopped over to her vanity. I watched her utterly stumped on what to do as she brushed her hair until it shined. She had blonde hair.
        I remember thinking: My God, why is everything here gold? before the door and a servant came in with a tray of water and food. The serving girl left it on the table and walked out, locking the door behind her. That’s when I decided to risk a confrontation. If she was being locked in, why should she rat me out? I kicked the paper with a loud rip and proceeded to pull it up so I could climb through.
        The girl exclaimed and tried to jump back, but she ended up tripping herself on her bonds and fell backwards. There was a loud bang as she fell, and for a moment both of us stayed still staring at each other and straining for another noise.
        “That happens a lot,” she said after minutes went by. Her voice reminded me of an hourglass and the smooth falling of sand. I reached to help her up.
        “Thanks.” She hopped over to her bed and sat down. “Take a seat.”
        “Sorry to intrude,” I said, blushing a bit. It hit me how absurd the situation was, but I had a goal in mind and this was the only way I could see of getting there. I took a seat on the vanity chair she had just left and turned to face her.
        “Mind if I ask your name?” I asked.
        “Princess Oriana d’Arani. Except I’m not really a princess anymore.”
        “Oh, why do you say that?”
        Oriana started crying again. “My father wants to have me gilded.”
        I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I didn’t know what gilding was, except with gold onto a wooden object, but she was obviously upset and any response I could come up with was pretty heartless. Thankfully she relieved me of having to answer.
        “What’s your name?”
        “Carmen.”
        She nodded. “How’d you get here? The passage used to be for servants so they could send messages into my room, but, well, this is sort of a prison now.”
        “Well,” I paused gathering up my options: lie or truth. “I’m a bounty hunter and I’m looking for someone who wandered into your city. But I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a scrape…”
        “Oh,” she said, “well, I can’t go very far from my room because of this rope, but I can tell you how to get to my father’s chambers. You could talk to him or Sir Argyris, he was my father’s right hand advisor and he’s very kind.”
        “That’s probably not best,” I said, glancing towards the passage. “Tell me a little bit about this gilding.”
        She took a deep breath. “About a hundred years ago, my ancestor, who was a baron at the time, was wandering through the desert and found a fountain in the sand. It just seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and at first, he was sure it was a mirage. However, the fountain stayed for three days without disappearing. He thanked God for this source of water and then started to refill his water skin before leading his camels to drink. But as he lowered the skin down to take the water, it turned to solid gold. He realized that touching the water made things into gold and struck by a sudden idea, he went back to get supplies. He carried with him gallons of water and shovels and with his family, built himself a house around the fountain. This house grew and became the Castle d’Arani and the family grew and attracted other people from nearby towns or those who were banished into the desert where they lived. There was no need for crime because people had all the money in the world. If there was a dispute, a guard was there to break it up. So the city has flourished for a century, digging farther into the ground and setting up wells for water. We grow our own food and generally, everyone is happy.”
        “Interesting story, but you didn’t tell me about gilding.”
        “I told you! Gilding is when the king takes anything he wants down into the Well Room and dips it into the waters turning it into gold. All the kings have done that, especially with criminals.” Oriana burst into tears. “And I don’t know why I’m being treated like a criminal.”
        “Calm down,” I said, “it’ll work out.”
        “You’ll help me?”
        “I’m not promising anything,” I said mentally kicking myself, “but I’ll try.”
        “Oh thank you,” she tried to get up and move towards me, but she succeeded in tripping and catching herself on her knees. “At least get me out of these bonds.”
        “What sort of rope is that?” I asked.
        “It was a gift from the King of Edelsburg,” she said. “Hydra rope, I think. The more you cut off, the more is in the box when you open it again and it ties like no other. You could have a bow, and no matter how hard you pull, it just won’t come undone.”
        Hydra rope. I needed some of that.
        “Anyway, the passages are all interconnected,” she continued. “If you go out the throne room and go past two tapestries, there’s another door behind the third one. It’s used more often, so if you push and run through it shouldn’t take too much effort. That one leads to all the other servant passages to anywhere in the castle. It used to lead to mine, but that was sealed off. Well, good luck.”
        “Thank you.”

More than Gold: Arani

        Golden dust circled around the horse’s feet as it strained to go faster, the body stretched out completely in the air before it landed again and crunched upon itself to push off again. The man and his black horse were just out of reach, but if I shot at him, his horse would spook and change course. My mistake was in thinking that there was only desert and nowhere for him to go. With that in mind, I chased him straight into the growing blob of sand adobes and white cotton tents.
        Arani. If there was anywhere a stranger should go visit, it was there. The gargoyles were almost solid gold and people traded fruit instead of coins for value. Thieves ran rampant and the general police force cared nothing about it. The king was so corrupt that everyone except the townspeople seemed to know it but the only people depressed and ill were the princess and the poor. But no one else cared as long as it stayed that gold was stuffing their pockets. The rich were gold and the poor were mud and there was an abundance of all four.
         Ironically, the city lay in the middle of the desert, one of the more golden places on the planet. Also ironically, I found it by accident following a criminal for his bounty. The price on his head was too much to pass up; high prices guarantee harder work. The hard ones had the worst crimes anyway.
        There was no gate or walls; the city just sort of petered out once it was out of the shade and into the sun. Overshadowing most of the market place and residential district was the castle, a large stone building with gold doors, shutters, curtains, and gargoyles. The guards had gold armor and gold tipped spears and stood as perfect bookends next to the door. It was like the closer people were to the castle, the better off they would be and leaving the shade of the castle meant leaving the security of the king.
The market place started as soon as I hit the border of shade and continued in a semi-circle around the western edge of the edifice. My little victim had escaped in the mass of people and somehow had through without attracting too much notice as he ran through the throng of people.
        I got off my horse and followed the curve of the building as close as I could watching the bustle of people as I went along. It was fascinating, really; the yelling and shoving and bickering between prices as bags of gold and silver changed hands. The castle soon turned into a residential district with mud buildings making their own shade. The market place stopped at the steps of cheap crumbling apartment buildings on the edge of the district.
Between two of these buildings, a little ways from the castle a group of people had gathered around a street performer. The girl looked no more than fifteen but was more flexible than children half her age. She flipped upside down over the scarf she had tied to a plank bridging the roofs of two buildings, kicking her feet in the air in a single movement, and squeezed her muscles as hard as she could to stay perfectly upright. She watched as people threw coins into her hat and clapped. She climbed higher, tied herself up, and then let herself spin down the length of the scarf to the dust below. She bowed deeply, counted to three, and then stood up and held the already full hat for people to put their coins in. Money flew at her and she caught every coin nodding her head to the patrons she saw every single day.
        With a flick of her cap, the coins were gone and bowing again, she placed the hat upon her head. A simple tug and the scarf fell down from the rafter into her hand. The alleyway was empty, now, as all the people had left to tend to other things.
        “Good show.”
        She turned around to face a boy she seemed to know leaning against a building on her left. His brown hair looked black in the shadows, but his eyes were still a vibrant green of an unripe lime. He was tall, but slightly muscular and compact and in his hand was a bag of coins.
        “You got quite a bit of money,” he said.
        “People were just feeling really generous today,” the girl answered. “Something going on?”
        “The king is happy again. Probably some new source of gold.”
        “As if that’s what we need. You can’t really trade money for anything anymore.”
        “Except for food and that’s all we need.”
        “True, let’s go get—”
        “Hey what do you want?” The boy turned to address me, his eyes flashing angrily.
        “Information,” I said walking forward into the alleyway between the buildings. “Just information. Why so jumpy?”
        He relaxed a bit. “The king likes to arrest people who take money from the rich. No one but guards carry guns.”
        “We’ll I can assure you, I’m not a guard.”
        “I assumed that. What sort of information do you want?”
        “How about starting with your names.”
        “We don’t have to tell you anything,” the girl said. “We’re not giving you anything to put us away.”
        “Mi, shut up,” the boy whispered as he pushed her gently aside. He looked me up and down as he debated whether to trust me or not. I let him ponder; if he chose to ultimately leave me alone that was his choice and I’d respect that.
        “Miana and Tam,” he said pointing to the girl and himself, respectively.
        “I still don’t trust her, Tam,” Miana said whispering loudly in his ear, trying to pull him away. “She could be lying and we’d never know until it was too late.”
        “Trust me,” he whispered back to her. Then back to me: “What’s your name?”
        “Carmen Teasdale.”
        “Wait, the Carmen Teas—”
        “Yes. Now, tell me what’s the latest news with your king.”
        “Oh, well, I didn’t know I was addressing the lovely Miss Teasdale,” he pulled away from Miana’s grip on his shoulders and faced me again. “Sure, I can tell you what you want to know. King Edward is a greedy little brat and loves gold more than life itself. And so, he looks for new ways to acquire it.”
        “Doesn’t every king?”
        “Eh, sure. But he’s obsessed with it; the only time he’s happy is when he gets more of it. He buys things to be built and then the money goes in circulation or he keeps whatever statue he makes out of it and then has more than every body else. You’d think with all this money rolling around there wouldn’t be people like us having to perform for it, but prices keep getting higher these days…”
        “Naturally.”
        “Tam, we’d better go. You know what you’d get if they caught you talking that way,” Miana whispered tugging on his shirtsleeve.
        “Yeah, in a minute,” he said pushing her away. “How’d you come here to us, Miss Teasdale?”
        “There’s a bounty on someone’s head and his trail led here.”
        “Whoa, cool!”
        Miana was looking more and more nervous and trying as best she could to sink into the shadows and disappear. Tam however was the complete opposite of her, excited as a cat about to get a chunk of fish. I glanced around, but there was no one around us save Theirn, my horse. I trust his instinct more than my own and he was lying in the sand calmly swishing the flies away with his tail.
        “How old are you, kids?”
        “I’m fifteen and Mi’s twelve—”
        “And a half!”
        “—and a half. We’re not kids.”
        “You’re not over twenty; you’re kids.”
        “Is that how old you are?” Miana asked me curiously, coming out of the shadows.
        “What’s going on over there?” A guard came running over to where we were as soon as he saw me. Theirn stood up and moved to my side. I put my hand on his flank to tell him that it was all right. Tam and Miana were trying to slink out the other side of the alley, without success. The guard grabbed their arms and pulled them out into the light.
        “What are you rascals doing, now? Stealing again?” he asked.
        “There were just talking to me.”
        The guard glared at me. “I’d check your pockets if I were you; these kids are swindlers.”
        “I’ve seen much worse swindlers than a twelve year old acrobat,” I said.
        “I’m afraid we’re going to have to take them away. Whose word do we have but yours and you’re a foreigner.”
        “A silver tongued foreigner.”
        “What could you possibly say?”
        “I might suggest I’m related to these children and since they’re under aged, well…”
        He looked at me for a second before shoving them at me. “Fine. Have it your way.”
        Miana was trembling at my feet but Tam just stuck his tongue out at the guard’s back before picking Miana up in his arms and making towards the alley way.
        “Thank for covering our back!” he called over his shoulder to me.
        “You’re welcome.”

a piece of coal

        I carried it in my pocket as I went down towards the subway to go to my grandmother’s house for Hanukkah. It was a little piece of coal some classmate thought would be funny to give me for Christmas. And though I’m Jewish, I understand fully well what he was trying to say. It didn’t add to his case to get me to go out with him, but I’m sure he didn’t think of that in advance. He’s a guy.
        I found the perfect person on my walk. She was huddled between two kissing buildings in a large black jacket. Her hair was full of leaves and she smelled like a litter box. If you don’t have a cat at home, you might be lucky in this regard. She also clutched at her bulging belly as she slept, upright in the alley. But what made her perfect was that she was sitting in front of a large dumpster somehow wedged between the two tall buildings.
        I shook her awake and she looked at me with disdain.
        “Whatta you wan’?” she said as she shivered.
        I handed her a box of matches and the piece of coal. “I know its not much, but Merry Christmas.”
        “What the hell do you want me to do with this?”
        I took some papers out of the dumpster and put the coal on top. I lit a match and watched the thing go up in flame before settling back down. “Merry Christmas,” I said again.
        She blinked at me. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

Lost Hope

            The sky was red today, but as far as she knew, no killing took place. Perhaps it was one of the many omens that her time had finally come. The cracking of wood and rustle of the sails served as the comfort for the rest of her watch until the rest of the sailors woke up and started their appropriate jobs. She took her place in the crow’s nest way above the action and out of trouble where she might be spotted.
            The wind was at her back and brushed her clothes so they went billowing out in front of her. She took off her cap and put it in her pocket, letting the wind play with her hair. The salt of the sea was faint, but the air was clean and the small line of land she had spotted the other day was getting larger. Low voices shouted out orders from the helm while the captain kept his eye starboard towards the land.
            It was only a couple days later that the bow of the ship hit the sand. She was ordered out of the nest and into the rest of the ranks for a talking to: orders from the captain about where to go and what the mission was on land and exactly how long they would stay. He reviewed the signal with a deafening gunshot and then set out the plank towards the shore from the edge of the ship. She followed in the back of the line and only when she was out of sight and scattered did she dare run. She wasn’t used to running on rocky ground in bare feet, but she ignored the pain and continued searching. Finally she spotted a glimmer on a rock and when she looked at it, it disappeared. Quietly she called out. The leaves rustled but she held her ground and finally, someone grabbed her wrist and ran. She heard her fellow sailors behind her going slowly and making lots of noise, but she was caught up in the excitement that she might have actually reached home…
            She knew very little of their language, but she could guess that they were surprised to find someone who could speak it from the ship. At least since they brought in that other prisoner. Her heart skipped a beat. She was brought in front of their chief and she bowed, as she was taught.
            “What are you doing here? You know our language and our customs; what do you want?”
            “I only ask for two things. Who is the boy who came to live with you six years ago?”
            The chief cocked his head to one side. “What is it to you?”
            “He is a good friend.”
            “I think you mean a lover.”
            She didn’t recognize the word, so she was afraid to agree. The chief smiled and waved for his previous prisoner. She almost didn’t recognize him, but was glad that he recognized her. He ran up to her and hugged her. She was so glad that her plan had worked, she started to cry.
            “Please,” she stammered to the chief, “can I live with you?”
            He smiled. “I suppose so. You know our culture well enough. But I do not want more outsiders coming into my clan.”
            “There won’t be,” her friend said and escorted her away to see the rest of the village.

The Prince: Time Has Passed

            King Aidan stood up and walked across the room to the windows. He looked outside at his kingdom between the trees. The merchants were busy selling their wares in the open market and beyond that, the farmers in the countryside were having a usual day at work. Birds flew by the window and perched on a nearby branch, chirping wildly at the topaz blue sky. It was a beautiful rain-free day, the first they had had in months and Aidan hadn’t believed until then that it could get any worse.
            “When was the last time anyone saw her?” he said turning to the messenger.
            “Last night,” the boy said bowing again. “She wasn’t present to perform tarot readings this morning and several of the people were worried.”
            “It was completely dark?”
            “Yes, sire.”
            Aidan sighed. “We’ll wait until morning. Perhaps she’s just gone on a small pilgrimage. I’m not one to bother a priestess of Goddess Fate. If she is not back by morning, send a small search party. But do not continue searching for her; if you haven’t found her after two weeks, she’s gone.”
            The boy nodded and exited the throne room. Aidan sighed and sat down again thinking. It had been years since Teagan had been raised from the dead and started making her livelihood with the fae. After she arrived, she made home with an old priestess of Lady Fate. Teagan learned the trade and became an avid follower of the Goddess. Beyond this and the occasional visits from Aidan, she tried to block out the world entirely. But much to her dismay, the coachman who had brought her there was not going to keep his mouth shut. Soon the entire fairy county was bubbling with news that the Prince’s cousin was staying right under their noses. Any problems they had that she was dead, no one made any objection, most likely because they had the imperial army breathing down their necks waiting for something to go wrong.
            Teagan had decided to live in the palace after all and watch over things in the kingdom when Aidan wasn’t there. Although she was the advisor, she would often visit the woods where she had previously lived. She remained out of the official nunnery of Goddess Fate, but every week, she would do a morning tarot reading for the few close friends and family of the King.
            Today, she was found completely gone from her chambers in the castle and those who had dared check the cottage, reported she wasn’t there either. Aidan stood up and walked over to the small servants door next to the throne.
            “Talia, what am I going to do?” he asked. A tall redheaded woman handed the spoon she was stirring with to another servant and walked over to him. She hadn’t seemed to age a day and she still looked like a child when she sighed and tilted her head to look at him.
            “She finally left did she?” Talia said disregarding his start of an explanation.
            “So its not another one of those visits she takes to visit Fate from time to time.”
            “I don’t think so.”
            Talia went back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife to start peeling carrots. Aidan followed her, ignoring the servants rushing away from him and trying not to stare. “She said she would,” Talia said engrossed in her peeling, “‘Peace has come,’ she told me last night. What a bunch of rubbish. She also said that Fate called her back to her soul. You might not want to start a search party.”
            “It seems a little late for that. Might as well give them something to do, though, the troops are getting bored. Word will get out anyway that she’s gone, so I might as well just let them find that out on their own.”
            “Maybe she’ll be back,” Talia said. She was uncomfortable at his despair and even though she didn’t believe what she was saying, she didn’t want to be the bringer of bad news for the rest of the kingdom.
            Aidan laughed. “If she told you she was leaving, then she’s gone. If I know Teagan, she isn’t coming back.”

            Teagan brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked down at the tombstone. Ironically, the words still stayed the same and she wondered if he was going to be buried there when he died again. Why would they have changed, she thought pressing the seal of the king and waiting for the elevator to rise, who wants to visit the grave of a live man, even if you are just changing the stone. She walked into the elevator like an actress in a well-rehearsed play and got off the elevator like she was going home to a place she knew quite well. Expertly, she walked down the passages towards the large meeting hall and entered.
            “You shouldn’t be allowed in here,” an older God said standing up quickly.
            “Where’s Lady Fate?”
            “This is only for the Gods and Goddesses. Get out!”
            “I am a Goddess. Any one who is dead, but lives is most certainly not a Child. Tell me where Lady Fate is.”
            The God made motion to speak, but was cut off by a golden voice. “Ah, my disciple is here again. I’m proud that you’ve answered my calls. Tonight you’re going to sleep; I’m done with you.”
            Teagan nodded. “I thought it was that.”
            “You’re taking this lightly,” Fate said pulling alongside Teagan and leading her down the corridor to the familiar room with the green light.
            Teagan shrugged. “My life was empty. I had no purpose for myself and I had no future that I could control. I came here to help a cousin I didn’t even know; I sacrificed myself for a stranger. Yet, I came back a lesser human in order to fulfill the tasks the Gods and Goddesses had in mind for me. A marionette has nothing to look forward to but the smiles on people’s faces at its performance. I had nothing to hold onto except the reassurance that I was really helping people and even then, I was not so sure. It’s time to end this and to bring things back to the way they should be.”
            Fate stopped her and opened a glass door set in the stone. Sleeping soundly was a glowing purple woman exactly like Teagan now. Her hair was longer and lay like a halo around her head. Her chest moved up and down lightly in the satin bed.
            “Please,” Teagan moved forward just as Fate was about to wake up her soul. “Could you at least give me my own grave?”
            Fate smiled and reached over to wake up Teagan’s soul. Teagan turned and watched her body fall to the floor. Fate pulled Teagan from her bed and led her out of the glass case, closing the door at her exit.

            Aidan went down to Teagan’s room as the sun went down to look for a clue of her leaving. Everything was as she left it: the bed was made and all her clothes were in the chest at the foot of the bed. Her tarot cards were in the top drawer of the armoire and some of her better dresses were hung up. He sighed and turned towards the door. A rustling sound behind him caused him to turn around and spot a dove in the window. It cocked its head before flying off to wherever it wanted to go. It was getting dark, but in his peripheral vision, the bed was no longer empty. He lit a candle and moved it over to illuminate the intruder, but only saw Teagan sleeping in her own bed. He held her hand and tried to wake her, but she didn’t move. Ah well, he thought sadly, she really has gone and left us.

            Three years afterwards, Duchess Talia went to the graveyard near the Devlin mansion with her husband. They said nothing to each other even when they split up, but while Talia chose the roundabout way around the cemetery, Aidan walked straight towards the grave. When she caught up, Talia put her hand on his shoulder, but remained silent. They both stared at the small gray gravestone in silence: “Here sleeps the body of Teagan Devlin, daughter of Count Liam and Countess Aingeal. May her body rest in peace forevermore.”