PORTALS

By Sheri L. McGathy

(As is, and I really mean that

Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

Chapter Seven

"Alas, Garrick, They Shall Miss You"

Lance checked their packs for what little supplies left them.

There wasn't much. A few more days and they'd know real hunger.

Since becoming separated from the others, Lance and his remaining companions had wondered the Portal tunnels trying, in vain, to learn how the OrbKey worked and discover a way out.

So far, they'd discovered nothing. The only luck they'd had, if one could call it luck, was that they had encountered no others since becoming trapped within.

Lance could only hope that Callie could figure out why the OrbKey attempted to respond to her; just what it was that set it off. If she couldn't persuade it to unveil its secrets by the end of the week, he feared there would be none among them left with the energy to care.

As if his thoughts summoned her, Callie drew up silently on his left. Lance gave her a wry smile as she fell into step beside him. Lately, each time he saw her, he was reminded that she was no longer the short, stubby-limbed child he had whisked from Xenos' cruel clutches so many years gone now.

Callie had allowed her hair to grow long and wore it in a single braid coiled several times about her head, forming a shining, bronzed crown. The braid added to her height. She was tall, matching Col inch for inch, but unlike her brother, she tended to stay grounded on the rational side of things, preferring to think a matter through thoroughly before acting upon it. Where Col reacted immediately, almost thoughtlessly, Callie remained a sane voice, calming Col's impetuous nature. Lance sighed, growing pensive. The boy was never far from his thoughts, or was the realization that he had failed his prince. It was always there, near the surface of his emotions…a raw sore that refused to heal.

Callie looked up as a sigh escaped Lance. Slowly, she lifted the OrbKey for him to see. He looked at the proffered key and then into her brown eyes, confusion apparent in his own.

"It vibrates."

Lance slowed his pace, and then stopped completely to give the OrbKey his full attention. Its center contained a frail flicker of light that spun counterclockwise, round and round, faster and faster.

"Child," Lance said, "very carefully, and very, very slowly, place the orb on the ground and step away."

Callie jerked her head up, alarm clearly present in her stare. Then, taking a deep breath, she carefully lowered herself toward the tunnel floor, the OrbKey extended out away from her body on her upturned palms. As she laid it on the sandy floor, the OrbKey flared to life, erupting into brilliant fire. White light flashed outward, completely engulfing the girl.

Lance threw up a hand in a feeble attempt to shield his eyes. Blindly leaning forward, he tried to pull Callie away, but found he was barred from going any farther. The light pulsed, matching the beat of his racing heart. It filled the tunnel. A loud, ear-splitting crack vibrated off the walls, shaking the floors as the surging light sought to fill every crevice, every crack as it flowed out and away down the passage. In its wake came a sudden eruption of wind, a hot blast winging in from above them. The pressure in the tunnels built, forcing Lance's ears, to open and close in repetitive snaps and pops.

A loud sucking noise rose from the center of the maelstrom as the wind doubled back, as if answering some unheard summons. With it came the light, swirling and swaying in cyclonic action across the ceiling of the tunnel. He looked up just in time to see the roof split open and just as quickly seal itself again. A dull thud and a muffled groan followed, and then, silence.

As suddenly as the wind rose, it died. As if wishing to mimic, the OrbKey went dark, thrusting them into blackness.

Lance sprang forward and reached toward the spot where he had last seen Callie. Latching hold of something, he pulled backward. He was rewarded with the soft form of the child. With Callie safely within his grasp, he called out to Dione and Ri-lee.

"We're okay, Lance," Dione answered from somewhere to his left, "but I don't think we're alone anymore."

Lance squinted into oppressive shroud, relieved to note that the darkness was thinning. The inherent magic of the Portals was resetting itself, the soft inner glow within, which had always present, until now, was beginning to resurface, chasing back the gloom they were netted in.

Lance reached out to Callie, but encountered only emptiness. He swung about, relieved to discover her bending over what looked to be a crumbled mass of fur wrapped in odd straps of leather binding. He pulled her away just as she was extending a hand toward the pile. As he forced her behind him, Lance drew his sword and used the tip to prod the strange mound.

Nothing moved.

He waited. The tunnels were uncomfortably silent after the wash of wind and havoc.

"Is it alive?" Ri-lee asked. "It does not appear so, Nestmate Lance," he answered his own question.

As if bidden, a moan escaped the dingy heap and mournfully echoed out and away, retreating down the silent tunnels behind them.

A shiver raced along Dione's spine. "Lance?" She moved in for a closer look.

"No," the warrior warned, throwing an arm out to block her. "Do not touch it."

Again the pile moaned, then moved. The fur and leather rotating in a wide, slow arc to finally reveal a young lad, near Col's age, flat on his back staring up at them with a mix of awe and wonder shining in his eyes. His face was beginning to show the swollen signs of bruising, and a long, angry looking cut ran the length of his straight nose. Twigs and leaves stuck out from the light growth of hair he wore on his lower face, and his mouth was posed in a silent 'O.'

Lance noted the lad's confusion as he took in his surroundings. "Can you sit up?" Lance extended a hand toward him.

Nodding, the lad accepted the hand and stood.

Once on his feet, Lance realized that what he'd first mistaken as a pile of animal remains was instead a sort of wooly overcoat that the lad wore. The lad was tall and powerfully built, with brown, shoulder length hair both thick and wavy. Under the overcoat he wore a thick vest made of soft, tawny-colored leather, wool pants, and malleable leather boots. Yet, everything he wore was covered with debris and the lad was a mass of cuts and bruises.

"What is that smell?" Dione mumbled as she raised a hand to shield her nose.

"Sheep," the lad answered even as he swayed on his feet. Lance moved forward, but the lad held out his hands to stall him.

"I mean no harm." He lowered himself carefully to the tunnel floor. Coming to rest upon his knees, he closed his eyes, and rubbed a hand across his brow. "I need only but a moments rest." He took a long, ragged breath and then went silent.

The others watched and waited.

"Sheep?" Callie coaxed.

"Aye, sheep. I tend sheep. Or I did," the lad whispered, staring down at his swollen, scratched knuckles. Then, raising his gaze to Lance, he asked, "Will you all be joining me on my death march to the Great Keeper?"

"What?" Callie stammered, looking to the others for help. "What death march? Are you planning on dying?"

The burly youth shrugged his massive shoulders. "I fell from a cliff while defending my flock from a wolf pack. I landed here." He raised a hand and waved it out in front of him, reverently encompassing the tunnels. He kept his confused gaze on Callie. "Is this not the Death Road?"

"Enough," Lance interrupted. "You are not dead, but it appears that you may be walking your death march, and soon, if we do not find food." Lance ran a hand through his hair and looked away.

At his words, the lad jumped eagerly to his feet, earning the tip of Lance's sword at his throat.

"Nay, no harm." He smiled at the large warrior, showing Lance the inside of his hands. "I've food a plenty. I will gladly share."

"And just exactly who would we be sharing with?" Dione asked.

The lad offered her a smart bow. Then, all in a rush, he stated, "I am called Garrick of Argus' Gate."

As his name escaped his lips, the OrbKey flared to life from Callie's outstretched hand, bathing Garrick in a brilliant aura. He jumped back, his eyes wide, his hands held out before him as if to ward against the light. His stance first spoke of flight, but just as quickly calmed as the lad sank down to the tunnel floor and remained there, supporting his weight on one bent knee, head bowed in submission.

"Well, 'tis official now, we have yet another chosen." Lance's sarcasm was barely hidden in his tone. Looking away down the endless tunnels, he mumbled, "I truly hate that damnable Orb."

Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

(As is, and I really mean that
Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

Chapter Six
"Bydameur"

By Sheri L. McGathy

"Get off of me!" Aldous sputtered while shoving at Col's shoulders. "What are you trying to do, kill me?"
 
Col scrambled to his feet and offered his hand to the wizard, who promptly slapped it away.
 
"Oh, balderdash!" Aldous struggled to stand. "Double balderdash and poppycock," he growled as he fought to straighten the tangled knot of silk that used to be his robe. The more he fought with it, the tighter the knot became and the redder his face grew.
 
Finally, he threw his arms upward and shouted, "Balderdash!" before taking a deep breath. With near precise movements, he tugged his belt tight about the tangled mess of silk and then thumped Col on the back of his head. "Never, ever," Aldous stressed while shaking a bony finger at him, "do that again. What's gotten into you, boy?"
 
Not waiting for Col to answer, the wizard added, "Lance, you'd better have a talk with your charge." He folded his arms across his chest in a smug stance while he waited for the warrior to handle the matter.
 
When nothing happened, the wizard said again, "Lance, did you not hear me?"

A sharp intake of breath escaped Col before he could pull himself under control. His heart beat so loudly he was sure the others could hear.  

"Now don't you start, young man," Aldous snapped, shaking a warning finger at Col. "I haven't forgotten you, remember that. And you," he redirected his finger to point at the girl, "do you understand the predicament you've placed us in?"

"I, I," she stammered, but grew silent, finally answering him with only a shrug of her frail shoulders.
 
"Oh, phugh." Aldous placed his hands on his hips and turned away to stare off to the distant horizon. "I am too old for this," he mumbled waving a hand out behind him. "Leave me be, all of you. I must think." Without saying more, the wizard resumed his silent vigil, hands on hips, staring at nothing.
  
Col tried to approach Aldous, tried to explain, but found his way blocked by one of the wizard's shields. He shrugged and sought the shelter of a nearby tree. It wasn't long before Ovid and Aimee joined him.
 
The silence stretched out before them, broken only by the soft whimpers of the OrbWard and the brittle snaps of dry leaves beneath Col as he fidgeted.
 
Col watched Ovid as he stroked the tops of his hairy hands, over and over, a slow rhythmic motion that grated on his nerves, but he continued to stare at those hands, using them as a reason to avoid the girl who sat next to him. Lowering his head, he peered at her through the veil of his hair.
 
Aimee sat quietly, her small hands folded in her lap, resigned to her fate.
 
Col wondered at her calm acceptance of whatever fate held for her. He was sure he could never remain so calm while others decided his course. He smirked as he thought of his guardian. He knew he would never remain so calm or so quiet.
 
The silence grew oppressive. It was stifling and burdensome, but Col didn't know how to break its awkward hold on him. He rubbed his own hands, aping Ovid. He was about to start pacing when Aimee's stomach announced itself with a loud rumble.
 
"Oh," she whispered, placing a hand over her middle.
 
"Hungry?" Col asked.
 
Not waiting for a reply, he unslung his pack and rummaged within. When his rumpled bedroll appeared, he felt his face grow warm and quickly shoved it from their sight.
 
"Aha," he proclaimed as he withdrew a small bundle, neatly wrapped in soft linen. "Callie, my sister," he explained, "always leaves me part of her meal."
 
The girl turned her eyes on him and he nearly forgot to breath. Those eyes, those wondrous, magical eyes.
 
He quickly bent his head, hoping that his hair hid his face, and unwrapped the bread loaf.
 
"Here."
 
Aimee didn't hesitate. In mere seconds, the loaf was gone.
 
Col's eyes grew wide. "You were really, really hungry."
 
Mouth still full, Aimee nodded.
 
"I'm Col." He smiled as he watched her lick the crumbs from her fingers.
 
She offered him a weak smile, before saying, "I am Aimee, daughter of Mir, granddaughter of Lorna, from the House of the Great Shield."
 
"Nice to meet you."
 
Aimee nodded, but said no more as she stared at her lap.
 
Again silence reared its awkward head. It made Col uncomfortable, waiting always made him uncomfortable. The silence reminded him they were doing nothing to remedy their situation. He'd rather do something, anything, even if wrong, than do nothing.
 
The longer he was made to wait, the more the silence threatened to smother him. He couldn't stop fidgeting, couldn't stop worrying, couldn't… "That's it," Col proclaimed. He slapped a hand against his leg and rose. "Wizard, I have had enough of this waiting."
 
"As have I," Aldous replied as he turned to face them. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Aimee whispered, "I know of another orb."
 
Aldous narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?"
 
Aimee raised her head slowly and met the wizard's glare. "I know of this orb you desire, I have seen another, here on Bydameur."
 
Ovid jumped to his feet. "Wizard, we must find it. It will–"
 
"Sit down, Ovid, and calm yourself." Turning toward the girl, Aldous said, "Now, Aimee was it?"
 
She nodded.
 
"Aimee then. I want you to tell me about this other orb. Leave nothing out. Then, I want to hear how a Byda came to be here, with us, rather than in service to the Mother Wind."
 
Again she nodded. "I will tell you all I know."
 
"Good, and when you're through," he leveled his stare on Col, "I'll decide what we do next."
 
"I am Aimee, daughter of–"
 
"Yes, yes, I heard all that before." Aldous waved a hand at her. "Skip that. What I want to know is how you came to be here, causing me so much trouble and where you saw the other orb. Now, continue."
 
Aimee sighed. "I was given to the wind near my thirteenth cycle."
 
"You were a Chosen?"
 
"Yes, I was chosen and was near transformation when slavers pulled me from the shrine and shackled me in their cold iron. The demon metal shielded my gift from me. I could not transform before the moon completed its own cycle. Thus, the Mother Wind did not see me when it was my time, and now," she whispered, "I will never dance with the wind."
 
"Transition?" Col frowned.
 
"Death," Aldous supplied. "Her ability to become invisible is why she was chosen to die. Those born with this ability are considered the spirit children of the Mother Wind. They are given back to their mother before they become of age."
 
Col gasped. "You mean sacrificed, don't you?"
 
"Col, hush. You are in no position to judge." Aldous shook his head at the prince.
Aimee met Col's gaze. "It is no sacrifice, it is an honor. I was charged to shed my earthly shell forever and join my spirit to that of the Mother Wind. I would then protect my people for all time. It is a noble thing. Death is merely a transition to something more."
 
She returned her gaze to her lap. "Not all are blessed by the Mother. Not all achieve transition."
 
"Why would you want to die?"
 
"Col," the wizard shook his head at him. "It is their way." He placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and offered what small comfort he could. "It is a great honor to be chosen. Very few are. Fewer still hold the power to conceal. Yet only the girl not yet a woman may transcend. Once that time has passed–"
 
"Then the girl who is no longer a girl is forever banned from the Mother's kingdom. The wind no longer speaks to her; her spirit will never soar free. She will remain a shadow to her people, a mere shell of what she could have been." A tear trailed down Aimee's cheek. "It is the slavers who stole my honor; it is they who hold the orb you seek."
 
Aldous sighed. "Then it is to the slavers we must go."

Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

(As is, and I really mean that
Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

Chapter Five

"Help Me"

"All right, birdboy," Dione shouted. "I've had it up to here with your antics." She illustrated by raising her hand to the level of her chin.

Ri-lee folded his arms over his chest and shook his head stubbornly.

"Grrrr." Dione waved her hands above her head before stomping away.

"You really should not have gotten into her private pack," Ovid offered. "It is hers to share as she allows."

"Nay, we are nestmates, there are no secrets," Ri-lee said.

"No, you damn little canary," Dione spun about, her finger wagging in front of Ri-lee's nose, "we aren't nestmates, and you keep your hands off of my stuff. You got that?"

Ri-lee folded his arms across his chest and looked skyward, completely dismissing her.

Dione mumbled. Shaking her head, she turned away, but came up short. Swinging back around, she rounded on the little CaRous. "Hand it over, birdboy, or I swear I will clip your wings myself!"

Ri-lee raised one eyebrow, then nodded once, and waved a hand out before him as if wiping away a spill. The illusion he had created melted into nothingness and he handed Dione the small book he had been holding all the time. "You grow stronger with each day, Nestmate Dione. Not many could have sensed my shields."

"You little…." Dione stammered, her face flushing multiple hues of pink.

She snatched the book from his outstretched hand and stomped away. Reaching the edge of the clearing, she threw her pack on the ground and quickly followed it down. There, alone, with her back turned to them, they could hear occasional snatches of "birdboy stew," and "roasted birdboy," drift out to them.

Callie looked to Ovid, her eyes imploring that he settle this, before walking over to join Dione.

Ri-lee bowed as she departed, then stated to Ovid, "Nestmate Dione's powers grow stronger with each passing of the sun. This is good. Much remains hidden, but I will bring these forward, too, my nestmate. This I promise you." Ri-lee bowed in Dione's direction, but she didn't look back.

"Ri-lee, leave Dione to her secrets," Lance stated as he entered the encampment.

"Ah, but I only strive to make her stronger. She must not shun her gifts," Ri-lee answered the larger man as he brushed past him.

"Even so, find another way that does not violate her trust. They are hers to share or keep as she allows."

 Facing Ovid, the warrior stated in a tone that left no room to argue, "OrbWard, chart a course. We leave with the new sun."

"And Col," Lance threw back over his shoulder, "the answer remains no."

"But Lance," Col began, scowling as he shadowed the warrior across the encampment.

Callie rose to greet Col, but he spared her only the briefest nod before renewing his argument. "Lance–"

"No, Col!" Lance shouted. "This discussion is closed."

"Discussion?" Col shouted back. "This was no discussion. This was you deciding, and the rest of us having to follow."

The two stared each other down, neither giving quarter. Finally, Col looked away.

Davenhawkes continued to stare at the boy for a moment longer, frowning, and then he pulled his sword harness over his head and practically slammed it down upon his bedroll.

The air about both of them felt charged and the building silence was unnerving.

Col stood, his fists clenched at his side. All eyes turned in their direction.

Lance sighed as he lowered his large frame down to the awaiting pallet. He was so tired of the arguing. Col, at sixteen, was near a height with him. Many years of living their lifestyle had given the boy the physique of a man–tall, muscular–even if he still remained cursed with the rashness of youth.

Lance looked into Col's defiant stare and shook his head. "We leave at sun up."

Again Col started to protest, but the warrior held up his hand for silence. "They are many, Col, and we are few. We would only succeed in becoming enslaved ourselves. No," Lance added, "we must leave, or risk a fate not to our liking."

"Enslaved?" Ovid whispered. Then, as if he couldn't contain himself, he asked, the words pouring from him in a wild rush, "Slavers, here? We must leave now."

"The morn will be soon enough. But aye, there are Slavers here, and they have taken captives. Col has decided that he wants to free these souls, regardless of the consequences."

"I must agree with Davenhawkes," Ovid stated. "Slavers are dangerous."

"But Aldous has magic. We could…" Col began, but Aldous cut him off.

"Poppycock, boy. We cannot risk it. In this, Lance is correct."

Col swung away from them, his body held rigidly erect, the muscles in his arms bulging from the force of his clenched fists. His steps were hurried as he made his way across the campground. When he reached his bedroll, he threw himself down and turned his back to them.

"Col?" Callie bit her lower lip and waited for Col to acknowledge her. When he remained silent, she sighed and sought her own bedroll, quietly slipping beneath the covers. She sat staring vacantly into the fire, forcing her trembling hands to fumble about in a miserable attempt at unbraiding her long hair. Still biting her lower lip, she turned her face away from the glow of the firepit, but not fast enough to shield the hurt in her eyes from Dione.

Forgetting her own anger, Dione rose. "Here," she offered, softly patting Callie's fingers away from the braids. "Let me help. You're just making a mess."

Callie said nothing, just simply allowed Dione to work the braids free and comb the tangles from her hair.

Leaning close to Callie's ear, Dione whispered, "Col will come around. He always does. His heart is in the right place, but his mind is, as always, somewhere else. Lance is only doing what he thinks is best."

"Oh, I know," Callie volunteered. She closed here eyes, relishing the feel of the brush massaging her scalp as it flowed cleanly down the length of her now shining tresses. "It's just that, well, Col can be very stubborn."

Dione smirked. "And you don't think Lance can be?"

 They both laughed.

Dione handed her the brush and said, "Now, to bed with you. Mark my words, if Lance says we leave early, we leave early."

"Good rest, Dione."

"Night, kiddo," she tossed back over her shoulder. "Night, Col."

A muffled reply echoed out to her from Col's direction, making her smile. Yes, Lance would insist they leave early, if only to get Col over this latest mood. She was already tired just thinking about it. She sought out her own pallet.

Col mumbled "good rest" as Dione passed, but his own rest seemed illusive, remaining awake long after the camp had grown still. He heard the soft snorts Ovid made while he dreamed and could just make out the strange whistle Ri-lee created when his mouth fell open in sleep. He envied them. All about, the strange scampering and odd calls of unknown night creatures could be heard as they moved in the shadows on the fringes of Aldous' wards, but none could enter. These familiar yet alien sounds usually lulled him to sleep. Yet, the longer sleep eluded Col, those once soothing sounds grew louder and more irritating.

 Col sighed as he lay on his back, hands folded beneath his head, staring up at the endless expanse of open, cloudless sky and the stars that dotted the opaque canvas winking down at him. Light from the full moon blanketed the dark in an ethereal glow, causing halos of eerie shadows to form upon the ground. The land appeared alive and unnatural in its light. The effect wasn't comforting. The fire had burnt low. Col heard the occasional snap of a branch as it surrendered to the heat, followed by the soft hiss of the flame as the branch was devoured.

He admitted, even if it was only to himself, that Lance was correct. He had finally calmed down enough to understand what his protector was trying to say, but it still didn't make it any easier to turn and walk away. One day, he thought, I shall go home and claim what is mine. Then, I will end this torment. One day, he promised himself as sleep finally claimed him.

He came awake, confused.

"Help me," a voice murmured in his ear.

 "Who?" and just as quickly, "What the…?" as he swatted at the uncomfortable humming near his ear.

"Help me," the wind seemed to sigh as its hot breath brushed across his face.

Then silence.

Col sat up and looked about the encampment. He tried to focus, tried to sense what had awoken him, but his thoughts remained scattered and disjointed. Nothing stirred. Satisfied there was no danger, he yawned and lied down, and quickly fell asleep. He dreamed.

Pleasant dreams, vivid, emotional dreams, dreams that seemed more real than fantasy. It was as if he could actually feel the gentle caress against his cheek. He smiled at the soft, warm sensation of another wrapping their arms about his chest and pressing their body close. So inviting. He murmured, but did not wake, content to stay within the welcome bliss.

Noises filtered into his dream-fogged thoughts, shortening the pleasure of the dream. Col opened his eyes to the sheepish rays of the new sun rising over the treetops ringing their camp. He continued to lie still, hoping to capture and hold the emotion that the dream had produced; hoping to tuck the sensations away to be recalled at a later time. He smiled. The dream had been so real, so pleasant. He swore that he could still feel the soft warmth of another pressed against him and the slight weight of an arm about him.

Realizing he had to abandon the indulgence and prepare to leave, he sat up and stretched the kinks from his body. And that's when he saw it. He froze, unable to pull his gaze from his bedroll.

The blankets draped across a shape he could not see while it rose and fell with the gentle rhythm of breathing.

He jumped to his feet and striped the pallet of its blankets. An exclamation of surprise rose from the bedroll accompanied by the soft rustle of clothing. He was shocked to feel a gentle touch upon his cheek. He raised his hand to the spot. He then felt the movement of the other as it darted past him. Whatever had been there, was now gone.

Col quickly looked to see if anyone else had noticed the impression in his bedroll. None seemed to have. His companions were up and moving quickly about the camp making ready to depart.

His sister called to him, "Col, hungry?"

Callie's voice galvanized him. He waded up his blankets and tossed the crumbled bedroll into his backpack and struggled to tie it shut. Slinging it over his shoulder, he hurried to join the others. He accepted the bread and meat roll Callie offered, and gobbled it down in silence, chasing it with a cup of water. Callie watched, saying nothing, yet making a mental note of his edginess.

By the time the others had finished their meal and were ready to depart, Col had convinced himself that the shape and the touch had been simply lingering residue from a welcomed dream and his lack of sleep, nothing more.

"What ails you boy?" Aldous asked, taking in Col's disheveled look, his darting stare and his jerky movements.

"Nothing," Col snapped too quickly.

Callie turned concerned eyes upon him, but he only answered her with a shake of his head.

"I ask only as your skin appears even paler than my own," Aldous cackled.

Lance turned to study the boy. "Col?"

"Really, nothing. Let's go," Col answered as he moved to join Ri-lee at the edge of the camp where the little CaRous was spreading his wings toward the rising sun, greeting the new day.

Lance silently watched. Col did seem preoccupied, constantly running his hand through his hair and looking about as if expecting something to happen. He appeared unable to stand still and anxious to be away.

What now? Lance wondered. Out loud he announced, "It is time."

Ovid nodded and moved next to Aldous and pulled the Orb Key from its pouch. Holding it out before him, he closed his eyes and waited for the wizard to add his touch to the key. The Orb glowed white hot, and the air before them split as the portal yawned into existence.

Lance entered first, sword held before him. When he signaled the "all clear," Dione and then Ri-lee ducked through, followed quickly by Callie and Col. The wizard waved a hand, bidding Ovid go next as he continued to murmur the words of power, holding the portal open to allow the OrbWard and key to pass safely through. This time he would step in last.

Just as Ovid's bulk framed the entry, Col came flying out, knocking Ovid and the wizard to the ground. The Orb Key leapt from Ovid's hand and flew through the Portal to roll down the tunnel into the shadows. With its light now extinguished, the Portal opening slammed shut, sealing Lance, Dione, Callie, and Ri-lee inside; leaving Col, Ovid and the wizard behind.

Lance whirled about and shoved his shoulder against the rapidly sealing side. He was too slow. The walls had already grown solid. He raised his fists and pounded against the walls to no avail. An anguished sound escaped his lips as he leaned his forehead against the cool surface. His shoulders showed his defeat long before he turned to face them, revealing that same defeat in his gray eyes.

Lance faced Callie, not knowing how to express his failure to his charge. He had failed her. He had failed Col. He had failed them all. They were trapped in the portals with no wizard or OrbWard…the key was of no consequence if there was none among them who could use it. For the first time in his life, he did not know what to do.

Callie looked into his eyes and slowly crossed the space between them to take the warrior's huge hand within her own petite one. She gave him a sad smile and turned away. She bent down and when she turned back around, she held the Orb Key out before her. It glowed weakly. Lance's head came up.

"Callie?"

"I see it, Lance, but I don't understand it," she replied.

"If it glows, it responds," the warrior continued. Perhaps, he thought, all was not lost.

Dione watched the despair that had threatened to destroy Lance, burn away, to be replaced with a renewed determination. Just that quickly, Dione saw a fire leap to life in his sad eyes.

"Now what?" Ri-lee asked.

Lance straightened his shoulders and raised his head to face them. Drawing his sword, he stated, "We go on."

"What?" Dione stammered. "How can we? We can't just leave ‘em."

"We go on, and hope Aldous can find a way to rejoin us." He reached down and took Callie's hand again. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "And trust we can find a way to make that Key work for us."

Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

(As is, and I really mean that
Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

Chapter Four
"Why?"

Dione allowed the frothy fringes of the lapping waves to wet the bottoms of her feet as she contemplated how long she could sit there before the tide rushed in to claim her solitude. How long could she remain hidden from the tasks of training with Aldous, trying to coax something to the fore that refused to surface, safely ensconced from the burdens of the everyday life she now found herself living?

She smiled. "Not long, I'm sure."

The sun was just hinting that it might seek the shelter of the horizon, and she had some time left before true night was upon her.

She sighed as she looked out across the sparkling water. Her gaze roamed upward to the soft, velvety azure expanse surrounding her. The sky seemed alive with the rays of the setting sun, the colors sharp and intense, stretching out into infinity across a canvas of deepened blue.

As she took in the beauty of the approaching eve, she thought Empyreana really was one of the loveliest places they'd been so far. As well as one of the oddest, her cynical side spoke up. It wasn't just the planet, but the planet's inhabitants.

 "Winged beings." She shrugged. "And now birdboy as a new traveling companion. Who'd of thought such things were possible?"

She felt his presence without actually hearing his approach and smiled.

Turning her head slightly, she tossed an invite over her shoulder, "Join me?"

The large warrior came forward and stood above her, his shadow sheltering her. Just as his sword was a constant shelter from those who would harm, she thought.

She patted a sandy spot beside her and without checking to see if he'd really join her, looked wistfully toward the far off horizon.

"Dione, it will soon be time to leave," Lance gently offered.

"Oh, I know," she said as she turned and raised her gaze to look into his concerned face. She smiled as she added, "I'll be along soon, I promise."

Lance watched the play of shadows cross her face and saw the bare emotions that lay exposed, open for any to read if any cared to look. He caught the sadness that swam upon the surface of her dark eyes, and wished he knew what he could do to ease her pain and confusion.

Dione watched him for a moment, and then, gesturing with her finger, she again asked him to sit. He nodded and sank down upon the beach beside her. Pulling his legs toward his chest, he leaned his arms across his knees. He remained quiet.

She offered him a slight grin. "What am I doing here?"

Lance shrugged. "What do I do here?"

"Well, I think I can see how you got involved in all this." She laughed. "I can even rationalize the Sci-Fi stuff I seem to be caught in, sorta, but why was I chosen? The meager powers that seem to have come upon me won't come again, no matter how hard the old man pushes me. Must have been a fluke. So, why am I here?" She threw a rock toward the glistening water and watched it skip across the surface: one, two, three, four hops and then it was gone.

"It just makes me wonder, Lance, that's all."

Lance studied the water, noting how the sun was swiftly sinking, the sky growing grayer, matching his, and apparently Dione's mood. He could only shrug, unable to give voice to his thoughts.

Dione pulled her feet from the water and drew her legs toward her, much the same as Lance. Crossing her ankles, she wrapped her arms about her calves and propped her chin upon one of her knees. Eyeing Lance sideways she said, "For me, this whole…. let's call it an adventure…. has been in conflict with what I once believed. Everything, all the things I thought I understood changed the moment ya'all happened upon me.

"I never believed in other worlds; I certainly never imagined life beyond my own world, and then bang! In less than a heartbeat, my whole belief system was turned inside out!

"We've now been to countless ‘other' worlds; met innumerable ‘other' beings, and you know what I think?"

The warrior could only shake his head.

"I think I don't know whose reality I'm living, and I think I am confused, and I really want to understand but I don't. I don't even know if it matters that I'm here or if it would matter that I wasn't." Dione sighed. "I guess I should have told you my thoughts wouldn't make any sense."

The gentle swish of the building waves added a mournful echo to the prevailing silence encasing them.

Lance took her hand in his. His shaggy hair cascaded over her wrist as he ever so gently brushed his lips against the soft inner flesh of her palm. The soft gray of his eyes sought out her opaque ones. "It matters to me." Then he folded her fingers gently over the spot as if to hold the warmth within and stood. Without another word, he walked away.

Alone again, Dione continued to stare out at the water, where just a hint of moonlight was spreading across its dark surface.
 
She shut her eyes and sighed, yet again. One small tear escaped through the sealed lids to trail slowly down her cheek. Opening her eyes, she looked down at her still closed fist, and smiled, a sad, gentle upturning of the lips, and whispered, "Me too, Lance, me too."

Copyright© - No part of this may be reproduced without permission

Here's the url

http://tinyurl.com/nklhfy

A Time To… Volume 3: The Best of The Lorelei Signal 2008 (Paperback):
Despite being the 'fairer' sex, women have long demonstrated that they possess great strength. They instinctively know there is a time for everything and they face it with Strength, Dignity and Determination. Following in the footsteps of our award nominated first volume; this collection will present you with women: Are willing to risk their souls to avenge a wrong done to another Are willing to risk their lives to challenge an unjust social system Are willing to risk their status to save others from walking blindly into danger Are willing to risk everything to save those who would ridicule them These are the stories selected as the Best of The Lorelei Signal 2008. Come in and share in their strengths, triumphs and sorrows. Remember there is always - A Time To…

Sheri

I'm feeling rather overwhelmed yet very happy! This little duet, which has failed to garner many reviews has been very well received in competition, and for that, I am very thankful.

Anyway, that's the news! Fingers crossed Shannah and I do well in the next stage!

Sheri

By Sheri L. McGathy

(As is, And I really mean that
Copyright® - No part of this may be reproduced without permission)

 Chapter Three
"Wings of Hope"

"CaRous," a high-pitched voice stated.

Dione instinctively clutched the children to her as she whirled around to meet this new threat, pushing them behind her as she turned.

"We are CaRous! I am Ri-ee-lee, TiGaRoc, CaRous!" the stranger before her preened, thumping his chest as he threw his head back and silently crowed toward the sky.

He was barely taller than the children, almost reaching Dione's shoulders. His frame was slight but rippled with sleek muscles. He appeared human enough to her except for his extremely large, round eyes–the softest, warmest mix of browns Dione had ever seen, with splashes of lighter hazel and gold swirling in endless circles around large opaque pupils. Those eyes mesmerized.

He held his head to one side, arms crossed over his chest with one leather-clad leg cocked before him. He appeared to puff his chest out even farther, if that was possible, as he stated, "Not angels. CaRous."

He nodded as he pointed a slender arm toward the rock outcroppings to his left. "You must hide there. Caves will shield you while CaRous flee intruders."

Not waiting for a reply, he threw his head back again and set free a blood-curdling screech, then bending low at the knees, he opened his arms wide, stretching them out stiffly before him as if preparing to jump.

[Whoosh.]

"W-What the–" Dione stammered as she plopped unceremoniously down upon the ground, landing on her behind.

Large wings unfolded from the CaRous' back. Hints of gold flecked the hazel tips of each feather, fooling one into seeing earth-toned rainbows flashing radiantly before them. Lighter browns peppered up and down the darker brown plumes, creating the illusion of sparkling lights.

Dione blinked.

One mighty push against the ground, followed by a rain of hot air and bits of churned up earth, and the CaRous was airborne.

"And that's just about all I can take," Dione whispered, as she spat the dust from her mouth.

A shadow crossed Dione's face. Startled, she looked up to see Lance standing before her, his hand outstretched. She took it. Rising, she experienced a momentarily queasiness as the world before her seemed to lurch, but it passed. Dione noted Lance's haunted gaze as he scanned the skies. Visibly pale, his clothes were torn in many places; dirt and sweat marred his face and his hair was in wild tangles as it waved wildly in the breeze. Dione reached up and brushed an errand lock from his brow. He closed his eyes as her fingertips brushed his fevered skin. As she withdrew, he turned away.
 
"Perhaps we should do as our winged ally has suggested," Ovid hinted. He held the Orb to his chest and stared about him nervously. "Should we not?"

Lance easily scooped the slight form of Aldous into his embrace and walked toward the cliffs. "The little CaRous was correct. The cave will shield us from," he hesitated before adding, "others."

"Then what, Warrior?" Ovid whined.

"Then . . . I do not know."

Dione and the children followed closely behind Lance. For once neither Twin spoke. Ovid brought up the rear.

A slight tug on his arm caused Lance to hesitate. Looking down, he saw the prince staring up at him with round glassy eyes. Col waited for Lance to acknowledge his presence. Lance nodded and the young prince whispered, "Will we always run?"

The warrior did not answer, remaining silent as he kept them moving toward the cool embrace of the shadows surrounding the cliffs. Once Lance reached the cave's opening, he simply stated, "Wait," and disappeared into the yawning darkness. He returned quickly, without Aldous, and instructed, "Inside, hurry."
 
Stepping aside, Lance waved Dione and Callie forward, but stopped the OrbWard. "Ovid, see to the wizard."

Lance ran a shaky hand through his hair and turned his attention to his charge. Col stood alone before the opening, biting his lip yet saying nothing, as the warrior knew the young prince would do.

Kneeling down before the boy, Lance's cool gray eyes met the soft frightened brown of the younger, and waited for the boy to speak.

Col shifted his stance and took his stare to the ground while he worried a small rock through the dust with his toe. Then in a whisper, he again asked, "Will we always run?"

"For now, we will run, whenever it is possible," Lance stated truthfully.
 
Col's head flashed up. "But Lance, you can defeat them, you are–"

"Nay," the warrior stalled him, "hear me out, young one. We will run because we have many who look to us for protection. Ovid," he smiled, "would be theirs for the taking if we did not aid him. Aldous is an old man," he added mournfully. "What would you do, leave Dione and Callie to defend them? Although I pity the fool who faces Dione's tongue."

The young prince grinned. Shaking his head, he stated, "No, I would never wish the others harm, or harm such fools." He sat upon Lance's bent leg and wrapped an arm casually about the warrior's neck. Placing his other hand lightly upon Lance's chin, feeling the stumble growing there, hearing the slight hiss as his fingers brushed against the sharp whiskers, he asked, "We will not always run?"

"Nay, one day, we will go home to claim what is yours by blood. This I promise. One day when you are older, and the time is right."

Lance stood. Swinging the boy upward, he easily saddled him upon his shoulders. Col laughed, a good clean sound. They moved into the concealing shadows of the cliffs.

They walked within a large cavern deep enough to shelter them from prying eyes. Ovid had already started a fire and the flames had immediately begun to banish some of the chill. The slick walls of the cavern oozed moisture, and harbored slimy vegetation.

[It will do,] Lance thought.

Looking stronger, her color returning, Dione came to meet them. She tousled Col's hair as he ran by to join Callie by the fire. She shivered as she folded her arms beneath her breasts. "You know, this is probably the wettest damn place I've ever had the misfortune to be stuck in."

Lance could not argue her words. "How is the wizard?"
 
Dione looked toward the fire and smiled. "He seems to be coming around now that he's near the heat. Won't be long, I'm sure, before you'll be hearing him." She grinned.

Lance grinned back. "No truer words were ever spoken."

Placing a hand gently between Dione's shoulder blades, Lance coaxed her toward the fire, stating simply, "Seek the warmth."

Aldous sat hunched before the flames, his arms and hands completely hidden within his voluminous sleeves. "What is happening beyond?" he asked as Lance approached.

"CaRous!" Ovid supplied before Lance could respond.

The wizard's head snapped up. "CaRous? For or against?"

"It appears," Lance stated flatly, "for."

Drawing a lanky finger across his lips, Aldous mumbled, "Interesting, interesting, indeed."

"What?" Dione asked, slightly confused.

"CaRous rarely trust anyone," Ovid stated while absently twirling the end of one long eyebrow.

Aldous nodded. "Indeed."

Ignoring the wizard and OrbWard, Lance gently pushed Dione down in front of the fire and withdrew a cloak from his pack. "Wrap this about you and the children. It will help to keep you warm." Then without another word, he turned and headed back toward the cave entrance.

"Lance?" Col's nervous voice echoed out to him.

The warrior turned back to face the prince. "I go only to check the entrance, that is all."

Col sighed.

Dione opened the cloak and drew the Twins to her. She wrapped an arm about each of their frail shoulders and pulled them into her embrace. "Rest easy, kiddos. The big guy will watch over us tonight." She offered them a smile, relieved when each pale, exhausted face smiled back.
 
"Young lady," Aldous piped up as if he just noticed Dione's presence. "Do you realize what you did? Do you understand?" He was so weak that his voice was a mere whisper.

Dione raised her head to meet his strange, piercing stare. "I haven't the faintest idea. All I know is there was a flash of light, first in my mind, and then all about me."

"Then what?" the wizard coaxed.

"Damned if I know. I remember thinking that my head hurt so badly that I really thought I'd die. Then, through all the pain, I heard the children screaming. I saw that, that . . . thing!" She waved her hand in front of her as if to push the memory away. "It came toward me, wanted me. It was in my mind trying to take control.

"It hurt having it there. Its voice droned on and on, telling me to surrender, to give myself over to it." She sighed. "I almost did. Anything to stop the pain."

Callie took Dione's hand within her own small one and squeezed hard.

"Yet you did not."

Dione kissed the top of Callie's head. "Almost, but something within me rebelled. A new voice spoke within my mind, a voice as foreign to me as the other, yet strangely, I wasn't afraid. It pushed against this thing's touch; demanded that it leave me alone. The part that I knew was me, agreed.

"Then something, oh I don't know what it was, I guess something alien wailed up within me and burst forward. Manifesting as the light, I guess. Or that is how it seemed to me, at the time. The voice of this new presence instructed me to rest, that it would see us all through," she finished in a whisper, hardly believing her own tale.

"Aye," Aldous stated. "Your power has surfaced, this is obvious."

"Now look, I keep telling you–" Dione started to protest, but the wizard held up his hand for silence.

"It is as the Orb predicted. Your power has come . . . it is unfortunate that it decided to steal energy from me in order to manifest, but no real harm done. I will renew come the morn. What I will need to do, and soon, is begin your lessons."

"Lessons?" Dione asked.

"Aye, girl, lessons. We cannot have you draining me again. You'll need to learn to draw from the available energy about you, wherever you happen to be. Elements of earth, air, fire, wind . . . the sun and the moon . . . Oh," Aldous flashed one of his rare smiles as he warmed to his subject. "So many wonderful things to taste, to savor. We start at sun up!"

"Joy," Dione mumbled.

Col and Callie ducked their heads beneath the cloak's edge and began to giggle.

"Stop that," Dione admonished, which only made them giggle harder.

"What's this, then?" Aldous asked of the OrbWard, thumbing toward the Twins.
 
Ovid answered with a shrug.

"Oh balderdash," the Wizard mumbled. "I am really too drained to care."

Ovid jumped to his feet and in a rush stated, "Wizard, let me fix you a pallet so you may rest."

"What? Why?" Aldous asked, eyeing the OrbWard curiously.

Ovid ignored him as he busied himself gathering blankets from their kits. Still cradling the Orb Key, he looked about him at the rocky cave floor, then at the key in his hand and back at the floor again. Shrugging, he turned toward the Twins and held out the Orb Key. "Please, young prince, would you mind?"

Col formed his mouth into a silent 'O' as he held his hands out toward the key.

 Ovid placed it gently into Col's upturned palms and admonished, "Do not drop it!"

Shaking his head, Col whispered, "Never," then leaned across Dione's lap to allow his sister a closer look, the Orb Key leaning precariously off the tips of his fingers.

Ovid groaned softly, running a hand over his forehead before hurrying to complete his task.

Gathering the blankets, he piled one on top of the other to form a soft bed for Aldous' ancient frame. He looked over at the frail wizard and sighed. He had never seen him so pale or so weak.

Footsteps echoed out to them from the darkness, each step louder than the last. Someone, or ones were coming their way. Soft wisps of noise accompanied the footfalls, the scrap of metal on metal coupled with the raspy sound of something soft brushing against something rough.

Aldous and Ovid rose as one, each turning concerned eyes toward the darkness beyond the fire's glow. The yellow of the OrbWard's eyes matched the blaze of the flame, reflecting the glow and intensifying its radiance.

Then they heard the easy sound of men laughing.

"'Tis I," Lance's familiar voice sang out to them from the uncertain blackness, "with our new friends."

Aldous drew himself up, knowing Lance was never so at ease.

Within moments, dim figures appeared. Lance shared the lead with a stout, burly CaRous, this one was not as short as the first they had encountered, nor was he as young. The whiteness of his hair, coupled within the caves deep darkness gave one the impression that his head floated inches above his body . . . freely detached, but functional.

Beyond Lance trailed a large host of CaRous' in various stages of battle fatigue.

As they drew nearer, Dione noticed that the young CaRous who had helped them before walked quietly at the older, white-haired one's side. As they neared the fire, only Lance and the older CaRous stepped into the light while the others formed a menacing circle of flesh and metal at the edge where darkness met light.

Stepping toward Aldous, the CaRous thumped the wizard firmly upon his frail shoulders with both of his beefy palms, nearly knocking Aldous to his knees. Dione gasped, but Lance held up a finger, silently instructing her to be still.

Ovid reached out and took Aldous' elbow, hoping to steady the old man. Aldous shook him off.

"Now is not the time to show weakness," the wizard whispered, as the scent of magic rose from him.

Ovid could smell the spell as it settled on the wizard like a mantle and knew just how much the act was costing the near depleted man.

"Greetings, Wizard. I am Noe-ell, GaCaRoc, CaRous," the other supplied.

Aldous reached out and thumped the CaRous firmly upon his shoulders and responded, "Greetings, Noe-ell, GaCaRos . . . he of the nest . . . CaRous . . . of the winged people," smoothly translating the odd wording for the benefit of the others. "I am Aldous Ja Aval of the High Sun Fellowship from the world of Egressus."

The CaRous, Noe-ell, nodded as he motioned to the younger CaRous they had encountered earlier. "This is Ri-ee-lee, TiGaRoc, CaRous, my son."

Again the shoulder thumping was performed before Aldous added, "Greetings Ri-ee-lee, TiGaRoc . . . he who is now leaving the nest . . . CaRous . . . of the winged people."
 
Bowing his head, Noe-ell waved his arm out to them and loudly informed, "Ri-ee-lee will now travel with these beings, known to us as "the other," until his quest is completed." His tone dared any to disagree.

Lance shot the wizard a warning glance and shook his head.

[Aye, Lance,] Aldous thought, [but how do I deny them?] The wizard sighed. How indeed? As he opened his mouth to try, the Orb flared to life.

Col jumped up, bobbling the Orb Key from hand to hand, trying to regain control of it. Ovid leaped across the fire, nearly knocking Aldous down as he dove forward to catch the tittering Orb before it fell to the stone floor. Once he had the Orb Key within his own hand, he stood and directed it again toward the young CaRous. It bathed him in its warm glow. The other CaRous' knelt down upon the cold floor and hummed.

"Well," Aldous proclaimed, "it appears this matter is now settled."

(As is, And I really mean that
Copyright® - No part of this may be reproduced without permission)

I don't have the release dates yet, but I will post them here as soon as I know!

Thanks!

http://bittenbybooks.com/?p=7383

Thanks, Sheri