THE XANON CHRONICLES-XIII

Table Of Contents

Post Work Rendezvous

From The Pub To Forever

The Hole In The Hill

Tsunami

Roller Coasters Start And End At Ground Zero

Oasis

The Bridges To Home

Tea And Philosophy

Thank You, My Book Of Shadows In The Attic

The Price Of Irresponsibility

The Path To Off The Edge Of The World

Can’t Rely On Past Experience

Home, By Way Of The Abyss

Images

Hitchhiker

Cook ‘Em All...Let The Chef Sort ‘Em Out

Sometimes Hazard Pay Don’t Cut It

White Wolf

Loki, Eat My Dust

Life In The Dark

Heimlich Manoeuvre Before Death, Next Time

Firefight

The Wreck Of The Cecelia

Living And Dying For Misguided Priorities

Only Workin’ Half The Year Is Great...On Paper

Black Tigress

Post Work Rendezvous

Stephanie and I just got off a case. We worked together to transition an Afghan woman who had just had her house and family blown apart by U.S. forces, to the realm of death. She'd been the last to die, and we'd made her death as pleasant as possible, considering the circumstances.

I don't know how we got this Afghan lady, but somehow the fates assigned us to her; and it was weird. I'm not going to get into the details, but the experience just left both Stef and I a little askew in our thinking. It turned out to be an awkward adventure that just wasn't right.

We'd both plopped down on our favourite couch, in front of our favourite fireplace in good ol' Tech Duinn. The fireplace that never goes out! Me and Stephanie were one in mind. We still had our individual thoughts. It's just that both of us experienced them. I was thinking of just relaxing with the cup of tea I was going to materialise, and Stephanie was thinking more along the lines of distracting herself, or would that be; 'ourself'?

I materialised that cup of tea. Stef said, "Hey Donn! Want to go for a swim, freeze our nose hairs off, and head for the spa; or go for a soak in the outdoor hot tub in our more usual home?"

Our more usual home! The land of eternal twilight where we lived when we weren't working, which was most of the time. We had long ago left the place and era we were born into, and really had no further need of acting as Gate Keepers; but Azrael managed to set the stage to get us back to work, and how glad we were that he did. We, who were not trapped in time, went back to our former plane and era to play the part of Gate Keeper again for personal entertainment this time, in addition to helping reunite The Source a wee bit faster. It made the existence of our co-workers and past selves a little easier, it was fun to do once in while, so hey!

I looked at her. "Actually, I don't want to do anything. And when you're in this sort of mood, the last thing I want to do it hot tub it with you. The way you like to take things in tiers just drives me up the wall. When you're freezing your ass off, and you insist on going into the water so slow; and I can feel every bit of your discomfort even though I'm under water up to my neck? Do you know what it's like to be freezing your own ass off even though you're sitting in not quite scalding water?"

"Yes, thanks to you."

"I can't stand that sort of thing, and you do it to me over, and over, and over again."

"As you said a million times, you could withdraw your mind from me when I do that."

I had another sip of tea. "I want to, but I don't. You know how it is."

"Yes I do. What a paradox we are."

"I was pretty neurotic before we met. I think you doubled that up in me."

Stephanie snuggled next to me, and put her arm around me. "Same goes for you, dude."

I kissed her cheek. "How about a walk in the garden after this tea?"

A cup appeared in her hand. She raised it to me. "Deal."

*****

We transferred to the Tech Duinn garden, and switched from our 'work clothes' to our 'regular clothes' in the process. It was kind of cool these days, with me not being confined to dressing like an angel, and Stef not always in male, dressed like a Druid. I landed in my usual black silk tunic and leotards, whilst Stephanie was in something reminiscent of her usual Victorian-Count Dracula hybrid garb. We were not temperature sensitive, so we could enjoy our walk without the sensation of freezing various body parts off.

It was a clear night. We could see the stars; the moon was new; so it was nice and dark above. There were many torches in the garden, however. They were all fed by different gases, so there were many different coloured flames! Green, magenta, white, blue, solid red, and everything under the sun! They always burned, day or night. We walked hand in hand down the cobbled paths. We were still in a complete mind share, and didn't say anything to each other.

Sometimes we'd stand in front of a fountain to listen to the water, or we'd have a seat for a little while. This walk was a nice compromise for us. My mind was at rest, and Stephanie was 'distracted' by the aesthetics of the place. We were there for a long while, though not until daybreak. How it ended, was after we walked up the stairs of the Japanese gazebo; Stephanie embraced me, and looked into my eyes. She was feeling a little giddy in her own right, and it infected me; being still in the mindshare. Two independent thought processes merged into one. She smiled, and I returned it.

She was as tall as I, but a little lighter. I picked her up, whirled her in a circle once, and put her down. "Remember how it was when you first got here?" I asked.

"Like yesterday," she said.

"I was so mean to you. So distant."

"You had to be, or I would have become something I hold in contempt. You forced me to become an independent entity in my own right instead of a part of you."

I kissed her nose, and transferred us to the halls of my castle. "You want me." I had to admit the feeling was mutual...sort of.

"Jasmine and satin. Cold, warm, fire, candles, incense, torches, -censored-, unity, Thanatos, peace, Astral and Causal explosion, hair brush."

"No Thanatos. Please. Not now. That's just too much. We're on the wrong floor. Walk, or..." I didn't get to finish. She transferred us.

Canopy bed, two fireplaces, and two end tables! There was a fireplace at the foot of the bed, and one to the left side. Both were roaring, of course. Stephanie took off her cape, her cravat, her vest, her gloves, her boots, and left them on the floor. I pulled my boots off, and unbelted my tunic.

"I want to feel the cold and the heat," she said.

I nodded, and closed my eyes. I pulled back the covers. There was an electric heating pad and blanket on the bed, and they were warm already.

I materialised two candles on each end table, and incense burners loaded with jasmine incense. I lit them by willing it. They would not burn out or run out as I willed they wouldn't. The wall torches then burst into flame.

The sheets were black satin, though being mostly dressed; I wouldn't be able to fully appreciate them just now. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for a moment, as Stephanie got behind me. I felt her hand go through my hair, then the sensuous feeling of a soft bristle brush going down my mid-back length hair; over and over again. "Trade places later?" I asked.

"Another day." She worked my tunic off, and pushed it to the floor. The brush felt good against my back.

That went on for a while. Eventually, she moved my mane in front of my right shoulder. "Lie down, beautiful."

I got halfway under the covers, and lay on my front. The room was permeated with the scent of jasmine, as she poured an entire vial of scented oil on my back; and started to work it into me. I'd unlinked my mind from hers from the moment that brush first touched my hair. I'd be going crazy, if it had been any other way.

I was enjoying this for what it was. A back rub! No anticipation of anything more, for with me; there wouldn't be too much more. It felt good, it was relaxing, and my nose was in heaven for the smell of the incense and oil. Stef's touch was nice. She was enjoying working over my perfect build, and unflawed skin. Eventually, she rolled me over. She was more than strong enough to do that.

As for what came next, I shall not write about the specifics, for fear of my existence. All I'll say is no further clothing was removed, and I surrendered my mind to her. I became nothing in my own right, until Stephanie let me go.

After that was over, we embraced tightly. "Get in me!" she demanded.

"Talk me into it." Man, sex after a trip to oblivion wasn’t really the sequence I liked to do things in if that’s what she wanted, but at least she’d go easy on me.

She got me in the mood, after the shedding of more attire. We were locked, pressed into each other, and didn't move. We shifted planes to Astral. We were formless and merged as two clouds might. We were one in mind, and space. What was 'felt', if you pardon the erroneous term for 'feeling' was not relevant, as we knew it before we got here; eventually became unbearable, and we blew apart as something like a supernova.

We came together again, and shifted planes to the Causal. It was lower density, and there're no words in the English language or any other language to describe it; but in analogy, our culmination might as well have been the collision of two galaxies. Or in more temporal climes, what does a bolt of lightning feel when it is hit by another?! Or if two tornadoes meet?!

After it was over, we ended up back from where we started. In that canopy bed! We both passed out almost the second we got there, under nice warm covers. Somehow we managed to embrace, for that was how we awoke.

Stephanie brushed the hair back from my eyes. "Man, we gotta do that again some time."

"If time were real, then maybe in another fifty or so years?"

"Yeah, sounds about right."

From The Pub To Forever

Finally!

For the first time in my life, I was free. Free of those worthless siblings and stupid parents of mine.

I was going to go home to my own apartment for the first time in my life. Oh, how sweet. There wasn't much there yet, but it was my space with no interruptions, and it was QUIET!!!!!!!! No wailing babies, no idiot questions, no 'Can you take me to the mall tomorrow', no NOTHING!

I was due to have my furniture delivered various days this week. One queen bed, one table, two chairs, one love seat, one coffee table, one dresser, and two end tables for the bed. That would be all.

Now all that was there, was my clothes, my books, a microwave, some pots, pans, plates, cups, silverware and Pyrex.

Tonight, I was going to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag.

I'd just turned 21 today, and was old enough to enter O'Leary's Pub. I wasn't interested in the beer and wine. What I wanted was the atmosphere. There was a soundstage, a bunch of ancient instruments on the wall, and antiques all over the place. They even had lutes and lyres on the wall. Some of the instruments, I didn't know the names of. There was an ancient rusted out trombone, and saxes, and an oboe, a flute, and they must have been ten times as old as I was, at least.

I'd walked by this place a million times, and oh; how it had fascinated me. It was a reflection of the past, and I was a history nut something major. I was hung up on the Renaissance, the mediaeval times, ancient Greece, Rome, Ireland, Scandinavia, the Pre-Columbian New World, China, and Japan.

Most of my books were historical reference books on these civilisations, and their myths. I also had everything ever written, by Joseph Campbell and Robert Graves. I had kept those books under lock and key so those dip-shit brothers and sisters of mine couldn't get their grubby little hands on them to destroy them like everything else I had. Those assholes smashed the two guitars I bought. I gave up. I said I'd get another one after I moved out.

Reviewing my past experience with children, I couldn't stand them. If I was a 'scanner', I swear that I'd explode every head of everyone 15 and under, yesterday. Doing that would probably save the world a lot of problems, from a strictly pragmatic perspective. I figured that most of the predicaments on this planet existed because there were so damn many of us. I tried to visualise of what would happen if I could do the exploding head thing on a major world holiday, with that happening at the dinner tables; and I started laughing out loud. The shock, and the messes to be cleaned up and all!

Well, maybe I wouldn't have it all happen at once. I'd go by time zones. When the clock struck 6:00 pm. A common hour for the last meal of the day! Muahahahahahahahahah!!!!!

Ahhhhhh. So much more room, less traffic, less pollution, and more space for the animals now going extinct! Yeah, I was a Georgia Guidestone fan.

Huh. Not in this world.

I was about to order a hazelnut latte, double syrup; when one of the chicks behind the counter brought me a platter with a latte, stuffed mushrooms, a salad, and a sandwich of sorts. "I didn't order that," I said.

She pointed to a longhaired dude in black jeans, a black satin shirt, a black satin neck scarf, and studded, buckled black boots. "He did. He said that you seem so disturbed in the worst way possible, he's surprised you don't spontaneously combust and take the whole building with you."

Major freak out attack, here! "How could he know that?"

"Maybe he's psychic. It's the cheese, sprout, and avocado sandwich with mayo and mustard. The latte is double with triple hazelnut syrup."

I looked at him. I was vegetarian, and the latte was my dream drink. "Yeah, he's psychic all right, but he doesn't seem terribly interested in me; not that I'm here to start anything with anyone. I was just gloating over the fact I don't have to see my fucked up family any more, and going over my personal history on why I should be gloating. Did the guy tip you?"

"Yeah. Ten bucks. I gotta go back, now." She dropped the platter off, and walked away.

Ten bucks. Nice guy, but why in the hell would he have bought me lunch? I looked so grungy. Dirty T-shirt, ripped up jeans, old running shoes, my hair was a mess, I never wore make-up or did anything fluffy to myself. In fact, with what was left of my jeans; you could even tell now that I didn't shave my legs. I was no Frances Farmer, Bettie Page, or anything like that! There were a few hot chicks in this place, and I was definitely not one of them by today's standards.

He stood up. He headed for the door.

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DON'T GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!' I screamed out in my mind. I got up and was actually about to go after him, but he stumbled, and turned around. Yes, he actually came over to me. "What?" he asked.

"Do you know my name?"

"Samantha Dale Snortland. You go as Sammy." An Irish accent! He was also the best looking dude I ever saw in my life. He looked too pretty to be a dude. His face was soft and feminine looking. He looked like he plucked his eyebrows, too. The hair was real thick, layered in a feather cut, and what beautiful, big dark eyes. Hell, he looked too pretty to be human.

"Why did you buy me lunch?" I asked.

"You were hungry, and I figured it might appease your misguided gloating and anger."

"How did you know? How do you know my name, the last of which I will change the minute I have the spare cash?"

"I just do. You're on fire, and there's no cause for it. In fact, you should be at peace."

"I don't remember ever having seen you before."

He shrugged, and sat down opposite of me. "Not in this life."

"You're not some sort of weird stalker, are you?"

He scowled, and said, "No, and you beckoned me. Remember when I wanted to walk out of the pub, how you more or less called to me? No, don't go?"

"I didn't say anything." I put my fork down. "You're a telepath!"

He chuckled. "Now, about those 'scanners'..."

My lower jaw dropped. "That was fiction! Wasn't it?"

"It was. Eat your mushrooms, before they get cold."

I did as he suggested. It took five bites to finish one off, and there were three of them. "So what are you?"

"Irish."

Where is that rolled up newspaper, when you need it? "Obnoxious, too. You know what I meant."

"I’, a little more sensitive than most. There is a magazine three tables behind you, but I assure you; if you threaten to swat me with it, I am outta here."

"It was a sarcastic thought. I wouldn't hurt a hair on your pretty head. Now, should I be afraid of you?"

"I wouldn't hurt a hair on your...brilliant head, either," he said.

I had a bite of salad, and raised my latte to him. "At least you have your priorities right. If you said anything about what I looked like, I might have walked out."

"You're average. Not bad, not good. Par for the course, and who cares?"

"I think I like you. How long are your armpit hairs?"

"Shorter than yours. I don't have any."

I smiled. "You shave?"

"I don't have to. I decided not to grow them anymore a while back."

"Electrolysis?"

"Something like that!"

I asked, "What brought me to your attention?"

"You're interesting."

"Just that?"

"Aye. After all, you are no Frances Farmer, or Bettie Page, or anything like that."

Man, the way he reflected my earlier thoughts was a trip. I had a couple of bites from the sandwich, and a few forkful's of salad. "Do you know everything I think?"

"Like my own thoughts."

"Do you know everyone's thoughts in here?"

"Only if I focus on them. Otherwise, it would be a bit distracting."

"You know, I might find you reading me like this very embarrassing; very shortly."

"Then I suppose perhaps I should go away?"

I had another sip of my latte. "And of course you know I would find this devastating. Shall I pay you back for this dinner?"

"No point to that."

"After this, can we meet again?"

"To tell you the truth, that will be unavoidable."

"Why?" I asked.

"Circumstances."

"What kind of circumstances?"

"Your hate, your vindictiveness, your impulsiveness and rebellious nature will lead you to me once more."

"Can you be more specific?" I asked.

"Later."

"You can do a lot more than read minds, I suppose."

"A little bit. Now a piece of you is thinking that you would consider it advantageous to have someone like me around as a...um...an ally, from a strictly mercenary perspective."

"I can't help that."

"Neither could anyone else. Not that you can control someone like me."

"This is true. Could you explode the heads of everyone who was under 16 at the same time?"

He laughed. "Now why on Earth would I do a silly thing like that? In analogy, that would be like blowing up a school so the children couldn't get a career later. All that would do is set the reunification of The Source back. You don't pull stunts like that. It's counterproductive to all that is."

"But it would be good for the planet."

"From the proper detached perspective which I admit I don’t quite have, the planet is a dust particle in a vacuum cleaner. It's just a minor aspect of existence in The Whole, and its life is the blink of an eye in eternity."

"There's so much pain here. The animal abuse, the factory farming, the clear cutting, the trophy hunting, the gratuitous violence..."

He interrupted me. "Like blowing up a bunch of heads?"

"Over in seconds. They wouldn't know what hit them."

"You feel terrible when a social animal is killed because the rest of the herd, or pack or flock will mourn their departure, but you have hardened your heart to humanity to the point you could care less about what the parent feels over the loss of a child."

"Humanity is the destroyer of the planet and everything on it. It's better off without us."

"You've studied metaphysics. You know this is just the baseline of evolution for everything living on it getting back to where it came from. And I do mean everything. Rocks and fire included. You know the story of Eden and Pandora! The fall of man by way of curiosity?"

"Yeah," I said.

"It is really The Source that fell. The curiosity of The Source is why we're all here. It wanted to explore everything that could be, and it had to separate Itself into almost limitless pieces to do that. Everything that is! Everything is equal, for everything is made of the same stuff. It's just that some things vibrate at a slower rate, so it seems immobile to the likes of us. My ancestors...the Tuatha de Danaan! They knew this. So did Carlos Castaneda, who you've read. The inorganic life forms?! You know this. Your intolerance of being inconvenienced blinds you to the facts."

Tuatha de Danaan! I think I remember reading about them somewhere. Couldn’t remember, though. "Why should I have been inconvenienced? I'm not the cunt who had the four kids. Why was I asked to take care of the little mother fuckers?"

"It stems from family and tribal survival. Life wasn't always like this. People used to have to unite for the common good. In the past, we didn't have an eighth of the population living alone. Even now, imagine trying to do that in the outback of any country where things are not industrialised."

"How old are you?" I asked

"How old do you think I am?

"You don't look old enough to be allowed in here."

"Neither do you. You just turned 21 today."

"Did you do the same?"

"No. I'm a little older."

"22?"

"Close enough," he said.

"Are you attached?"

He smiled. I swear a tear left his right eye. He hesitated before answering. "Very much so."

I suddenly felt strange. So strange! So good! At peace, and inundated in a love that was so powerful and pure that I don't think there was anything that could be better. "Can I ask about her?" Not that I really cared at the moment, just as long as he was happy with her.

"Him."

I wouldn't hold it against him. "You're gay?"

"Technically no, but why should gender matter how you feel about an individual?"

I finished off the sandwich. "I like that answer."

"All I can say is he's the epitome of everything I admire, and he's helped make me what I am today."

"What's his name?"

He tilted his head to the right. "Keith." That sounded like 'Kayth'.

"And what's yours?"

"Vergil."

"You look like a Vergil."

"That's what another one of my best friends thought. I'm still wondering what a Vergil is supposed to look like."

"Androgynous, delicate, and pretty."

He shrugged. "Thank you." He then looked down, shook his head and laughed. "Gods, if my da heard that."

"Huh?"

"Oh, never mind. He wouldn't care. He's been to busy making a name for himself, fighting with my mom, and chasing after his sec...uh...girlfriend."

"Is he famous?"

"In select circles. Niche audience. You know how it is."

"Yeah. Vergil, why do I feel like I do? I've never felt this good in my life."

"It's what I feel for you. I can send as well as receive. I'm a telepath. Remember? I've taken a strong liking to you."

"And when you go, this feeling will be gone."

"For a while." He put his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together, and rested his chin on his thumbs. "You're going to have to sort yourself out by yourself. Then we'll meet again."

"Where do you live?"

"Over the hills and far away. Far, far away." Evasive bastard.

"Shall I ask where you are staying, then?"

He looked up to the ceiling, and sighed. "You just did, and no; you're not coming with me. I don't like your current motivation."

"Not even for your own sake?!"

He shook his head. "No. It's not really for my sake anyway even if I agreed to be totally passive for you. I have had it with that sort of thing. It's not really an innate part of my world anymore." He stood up, and ruffled my hair. "See you next week."

Oh shit. I guess I drove him off. "Where?"

"Wherever you are." He got up, and walked away.

I went home and cried.

*****

This must have been the hardest week of my life. I could barely concentrate on my job at the warehouse, and I had to triple check myself for everything that went out, since I was in shipping.

I didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone, and the conversation I had with Vergil on hate, and reunifying The Source kept playing in my head. I realised everything from an intellectual perspective, but I just couldn't feel it. When my mother called me, I yelled at her, told her what I thought of my siblings, what I thought of her and dad, told her to never call me again, I never wanted to see her or anybody again, and hung up on her. I slammed down the receiver, and I almost threw the phone across the room.

Not what I was supposed to do; but boy did that feel good in my miserable state!

Vergil, oh Vergil. I love you, and I hate you for walking out on me; but you're coming back. Tomorrow will be a week, and you said you'd see me. Where ever I was.

I'd gotten all my furniture delivered. What if I was here?

But he said he'd meet me once. Only one more time?! Then no more?!

I cried some more.

Suddenly I sat up. What happened to that fiercely independent chick that held in contempt everyone who was acting like what I was acting like now? What happened to my distain of clingy wimps who couldn't stand on their own two feet?

Wait just one minute, here. How could I act like this over a guy who I only talked to maybe for two hours? How could I act like this over anybody?

I was thoroughly disgusted with myself. I went to take a shower, and decided to challenge his visit tomorrow. Why was he even coming to see me again if he knew how I felt about him, and we couldn't have a long-term relationship?

The Hell with him! The Hell with everything...except for my own personal evolution, that is.

To me, that represented increasing knowledge. Maybe if I read all the classic philosophers. Maybe I could go to college, now that I didn't have any goddamn family obligations. Yeah. I'd go to Borders, and I also had to get a computer set up. I didn't dare buy one at home, but now there was no chance for it to get damaged, so...

This was the first good night's sleep I got all week.

*****

Borders. I put Ayn Rand, Friedrich Nietzsche, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Immanuel Kant in my basket. I was just about to turn and go to the register, when Vergil handed me another book. "You forgot this."

‘ Meditations’, by Marcus Aurelius.

I looked at it. "Thank you. You know, I don't know whether I'm glad to see you, or if I want to tell you to go away."

"Hopefully the former. I hoped to invite you to a pot or two of tea at my place after your purchase."

"I thought you live way the Hell out there."

"To tell you the truth, I live wherever I am."

"That makes sense. You're quite a smart ass."

He chuckled. "And you quite appreciate it."

"I appreciate intelligence."

"So do I."

"I'm wondering if I've fallen in love with you."

"You feel paradoxical, but you can...with time. Now it's just infatuation! What you feel is volatile, passionate, and as unstable as vinegar and baking soda. Like what about that little temper tantrum you had with your mother, and then the other one over me; where you contemplated telling me to go to Hell in a hand basket because you couldn't own me?"

"I'm an ass."

"No, you're human. It's how humans are," he said.

"And you make me face the worst of myself and open my eyes in one sentence, when I don't even know myself. How can you know me better than I know myself?"

"Buy your books, take us to where I tell you, and I'll explain."

"Is it far?"

"Three blocks from your apartment."

"YOU FUCKIN' LIVE THREE BLOCKS FROM MY APARTMENT?!"

"Sammy! Shhhhhhhhhhh. Buy your books, and let's get out of here."

Yeah, a few people were looking at me for my rather loud outburst.

When I went to the register I apologised for my blow-up, paid for the books, and we were off.

"Go to the corner of G and 7th street," he said.

"Man, I could waddle that after a full meal in under ten minutes; from where I live. That corner has a gorgeous stone house on it. Which one is yours?"

"The gorgeous stone house. There's a circular table in the turret room. I assume you'd prefer our tea there as opposed to the kitchen."

"Oh, yeah. That'll be a trip, though I must warn you I have a bias against rich people."

"Mae Brussell?"

"Damn, you're good. She was great. Got assassinated via cancer, I heard."

"She was. A courageous lady who got the scoop out on a lot of pretty nasty individuals on her radio programme! You can park in the driveway."

"OK." I did.

We left the books in the car, and I got to see how the other half, lives!

The walls were smooth stone. They were inlaid with Celtic designs. The floors were tiled with black marble. There was no carpeting. Only throw rugs, and they looked expensive. More Celtic designs on the rugs! Custom made, probably. There were swords, halberds, maces, and such on the walls. "A lot of this is English weaponry, but who cares?" said Vergil. "I know they did some nasty things to my land, but I don't hold anyone's ancestry against them. You have to take everyone from an individual perspective. After all, the warmongers and the common people are not necessarily the same."

"I wouldn't date a Wahabi."

"They wouldn't date you, either. Nor me. I'd scare the shite out of them."

"With your telepathic abilities and insights?"

He winked at me. "Among other things. I'm going to cook us up some genmai cha. A Japanese rice tea. I know you'll like it."

"If you know it, I probably will."

We went to the kitchen, and he put on a pot of water. He gave me two small cups and saucers to take back with us, and after the water was heated and the tea put in, he grabbed a placemat for the teakettle, and off we were to the ground floor turret room. It was nice.

Again, we sat opposite from each other.

"How long are you going to be here?" I asked.

"I'm leaving later today."

"Are you coming back?"

"No."

"So this is the last time I see you?" Was I in a panic?

"I hope not."

"What does that mean?"

"Have a sip of tea, then put the cup down, and back away from the table a little. I have a bit of explaining to do, and you have a little adjusting to do."

I pushed the cup away. "Maybe not."

He raised his cup, had a sip, and said, "No, it's not drugged, but I have a better idea. He stood up, and said, "Follow me. We're going to the living room and watch me act like an idiot to prove something to you."

"Like what?"

"Wait until we get there."

I got up and followed him.

"Have a seat on the couch."

I did. I sat on one end, and he sat on the far end.

"Watch me work the fireplace," he said.

I looked at him. He made an elaborate gesture, pointed at the fireplace, and what looked like a laser light came from his finger. The log in the fireplace started burning. "Wow. You're a magician?"

"I'm real. It wasn't a parlour trick. Now, why waste a good pot of tea?" He pointed to the table, and the kettle and two cups appeared in the middle of the table. "And you're dead, by the way. Do you remember the three police cars by your apartment complex when we drove by?"

"Barely. What do you mean, I'm dead."

"After that phone call your mother made where you dissed her so viciously, your father came by, you answered the door, and he beat you to a bloody pulp; slaying you in the process. He got caught, of course; but all you have experienced since just before he killed you is an illusion. I kept your conscious mind from experiencing reality. You don't know me, but my real name is Donn Ui'Midir, and this name; you do know. As for…Keith, he’s been the love of my life for about eternity." A collection of books appeared in his hands. "I think this is a good way to introduce you to us."

He put them on the table.

I picked up the one on top. "Donn. Irish Death god! Oh yeah! You are of the Tuatha de Danaan, yourself. I remember, now. The Xanon Chronicles? What Revelation Never Told You?"

He smiled, and moved next to me the second I wished he would. "Vergil Xanon is the name one of my former mortal loves chose for me, that I went as for a while. Keith is really...well, you'll find that out in the end of the second book."

"Stefan?"

"Indeed. Now get ready to see where we really are. You are not at that house on G and 7th. You never were. It was just another one of my illusions! You're at Tech Duinn, or rather The House Of Donn; in your language," he said.

The walls melted. We were still in front of a fireplace, but the room became huge, the ceiling a hell of a lot higher, and the walls turned to the smooth symmetrical grey bricks like they make castles out of. There were tapestries all over the place, and various prehistoric Celtic décor.

What could I say? "Wow."

He reached over, grabbed a cup of tea, and handed it to me. He then grabbed the other, held it up, and we toasted the cups. "I'm sorry, but you did catch my fancy. Unconditionally."

I had a sip, and yes; I loved it. "I'll learn that way eventually. The unconditional thing, I mean."

"I know, and you can stay with us until you no longer need us for your own evolution."

"Will that day ever come?"

"It is an assumption, for most do leave this place. I could find out for real. In fact, we could find out for real."

"Let's not. And you'll never sleep with me?"

He wrinkled his nose. "That's a very shallow thing of you to ask. I'd really rather not. I rarely do that with the two loves of my existence, anymore. It’s really kind of pointless."

"Poo, but OK."

He ruffled my hair for a second time. "OK, maybe once, after you're in the right state of mind. I guess after reading this series."

"Right state of mind?"

"A more detached state, you know? Not motivated by what you're motivated by now?"

"So you'll be available when I could not care less about wanting you."

"Something, like that! Theoretically."

“You’re telling me that you’ll only sleep with me if I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“Yes, because that means we won’t ‘sleep’ together at all, as the euphemism goes.”

I had another sip of my tea, and put the cup down on the coffee table. "You’re playing with me! Now will you materialise a rolled up newspaper for me?"

"Yes to the first question, and no to the second."

I chuckled. "Kidding. I guess I'll start reading this."

"Please do. But let me tell you one thing. After you’re done, I’ll do way more for you than shag you, so don’t feel bad."

“OK.”

*****

Being I no longer needed to eat or sleep, I read the whole series in one sitting. There was no way I could put that down, and there was no way my way of thinking could have been so drastically altered so fast; then by reading those ten volumes.

Donn never left my side the whole time, and a gorgeous big black house cat joined us before I was done with the second volume. He turned out to be quite a character, both in the book set, and in person.

Dear Percy.

And the mind share with Donn that came after I finished the series was better than anything that a mere mortal could have done with me. Damn, I’d always had a fascination with Death, but this surpassed all my expectations. Yeah, the Hell with ‘shaggin’! We never did.

The Hole In The Hill

My time was running out. I knew it. I was 62, tired, on the verge of being unemployed, and not willing to rebuild myself in another company for the tenth time. I was sick of starting at the bottom, working my way up to a higher salary, and having to wait countless years for a decent vacation accrual. If I could even find another job in this depressed economy!

I had enough savings to live comfortably for a year, but I was just too old and worn out to deal with finding a new way of life. I'd seen all this coming, and I'd prepared for it!

I was lucky. There was a huge regional park in the hills just two miles south to where I lived. I go hiking there once a week. I knew the trails like the back of my hand. I also knew about things off the trails, since I'd been notorious for straying from them.

I'd found an overhang in a wooded area away from the remotest trail, and under it was what appeared to be a small den of sorts. There were coyotes, bobcats and cougars in these hills, or so I heard. Perhaps it belonged to one of them, though I only saw coyotes, foxes and deer; as far as the land animals went.

The den was pretty clean when I first saw it. It was just a little hole that was dug into the side of the hill, and I decided this is where I was going to commit suicide. No one would find me for years, probably.

Over the course of a few weeks, I went to that place at night with a shovel. I dug the hole bigger so it would accommodate me in comfort. Tons of poison hemlock plants grew nearby, and that was what I was going to use to do myself in. The time was right for it now, in South-Central California after a wet winter. April. The plants were fresh, green, and nicely toxic.

I knew what I was in for. Respiratory paralysis. I also knew it tasted like shit, but hey! I'd chase it with a cold brew. Carlyle Irish Red, to be specific. Tonight.

I made out a holographic will, leaving everything I had to Amnesty International. I left it in plain sight with a note that I was going to kill myself in a remote area. I had no relatives I wanted to leave my estate to. I couldn't stand any of them, except the daughter who had disowned me; not that she needed it. I proceeded to order a last meal from a pricey French restaurant, and drove my car to the south entrance of the park; which was closest to where I was going to die. It was around 10:00 P.M. when I parked my car.

It wasn’t cold. Mid-60's, maybe. It didn't matter.

I had three of those Irish Reds in my backpack. It was all I could handle without throwing up, and they were all going down me after my hemlock salad. They'd deaden the experience, if you pardon my words.

It was about four miles to where I had to go. It was hilly, and slow going. After all, I was old, arthritis was just starting to set in, and I was pretty stuffed from my dinner. The worst combination if you wanted to get somewhere fast.

It was close to midnight when I got to where I wanted to go. I harvested ten stalks for their leaves, and got them down me with much distaste. I suppose bitter was the closest word for the vile flavour. I chased them with my brew.

The first bottle didn't taste that good to me. The hemlock had ruined it.

The second one tasted better, and I could barely get the third one down from being too full.

I curled up in my hole, and waited. I expected to be conscious up to the moment of my death. I read that's how it happened.

But that's not what happened. I passed out in bliss.

*****

I felt warm. Too warm, in fact. Someone lay behind me, and had their arm around me. I heard rhythmic breathing, and hot breath on my neck. I felt I was laying on something soft. I must have been dreaming, and I forgotten all about committing suicide until...something scraped the tip of my nose.

I opened my eyes. It was a bird of sorts. Almost. It had teeth, and three claws on each wing. I could see it, for there was a light somewhere behind me. I also became fully conscious of the heavy arm around me.

I reached down and expected to touch a hand. Instead, I felt something furry; and it had huge, long claws. Whatever was behind me, took its paw back, and nuzzled me from behind.

I sat up. I looked at the bird, and it looked like paintings of Archaeopteryxes I'd seen. When I looked to the other side of me, I saw a big black cat with sabre fangs, but a long tail. I was in a cave, lying on a furry animal skin, and there was a fire in the cave wall, which seemed to contain a natural formation for a fireplace.

I decided I was dreaming. This couldn't be real. I looked at the cat. I'd never seen pictures of anything like him. Sabretooth tigers had short tails, bigger shoulders, and stockier builds. As for the archaeopteryx, they'd been extinct for how long? And this is not where I passed out.

The cat hadn't hurt me, yet. I figured he wouldn't. Not unless I acted aggressively toward him, anyway. 'You're right, Jordan,' I heard in a Celtic accent. 'I won't hurt you.'

I scowled at the cat who answered my thoughts. "Are you talking to me?" I sat up.

The cat looked at the archaeopteryx. 'Reggie, why are people so stupid? Just about every one of them asks me that, and every one of them knows a cats fucking vocal construction doesn't allow for human speech.'

My eyebrows went up. I now looked at the archaeopteryx. "Reggie?"

'Yeah. And I can't talk either. It's all telepathic, dude. Percy here has about run out of patience with your kind for assuming animals can converse with you in your language. Well, there are a few that can; but we are not two of them.'

"Understood. Now can you two convey to me where I am, why I'm not dead, and what happened to me?"

Percy laid his ears back. 'Uh, you are dead. If you were in the Physical Realm, I couldn't exist; and archaeopteryxes have been extinct for how long? Not to mention you now look like you're in your 20's. If you check the top of your head, you will find you have all your hair back, your face will feel smooth, and note how lacking you are in aches and pains.'

I smiled. "You're making fun of me!" I did run my hand over my no longer bald head, to verify what Percy had conveyed to me.

Percy! One ear went up, and one ear went sideways. Gods, he looked comical. 'What else are you good for?' he asked me.

I reached out and scratched him behind the ears. "This. Do you like being scratched under the chin like a house cat?"

Percy presented his chin to me. 'Hell yeah! I used to be a house cat before I grew up.'

I accommodated him, and Reggie moved next to me. 'Hey! You're ignoring me. I like to be coddled, too.'

I looked down at Reggie, and gently stroked his back. "You're one hell of a beautiful animal. Now what happens to me? I have read suicide is considered a no-no and there may be a price to pay, but this isn't bad."

'So of course you did it anyway,' sent Percy.

"Yeah! I was old, tired, about to be unemployed, and unemployable by my standards. For a good enough paycheck, anyway."

Reggie looked at Percy. 'How trite.'

"Yeah, so where am I?" I asked. I was still stroking them both.

'In a cave! Gods, can't you see?' asked Percy, as he lowered his head; signifying I could stop scratching under his chin.

"Uh, yeah. I'm on a fur rug, there's a fire going, and I'm talking to an archaeopteryx and some sort of sabre cat. If I go outside, am I gonna run into a tyrannosaurus or wooly mammoth or something?"

Percy tilted his head. 'That can be arranged.'

"Whose cave is this?"

'Donn set it up. He figured it was a good way to introduce you to the realm beyond the Physical,' sent Percy.

"And who is Donn?"

'Irish Death god. Donn Ui'Midir. Son of Midir the Proud and Fuamnach.' continued Percy.

I was amazed. "I know those two. I read 'The Wooing Of Etain'. I take pride in my ancestry. After all, I am a Fitzgerald."

'Yo’ momma is Ashkenazi,' sent Reggie. “That also makes you technically Jewish, though a rather foxy lady who resides with us and is of Hebrew blood may have problems with that identification.”

"Technicalities is all it is," I said. “I take pride in both halves of me, and consider myself an Irish Jew.”

'I knew you'd say that,' sent Percy.

"So where am I, and why am I here?"

Percy pressed himself against me. 'You're on a Low Etheric Plane, and you're here with us to decide for sure that you made the right decision in killing yourself. Suicide isn't always considered wrong. It all depends on the reason behind it.'

I shrugged. "I didn't have anyone else depending on me. No pets, the kid's gown up, makes more than I ever made and she hates me, wife already divorced me after taking all I had for that period in my life, and that's that. There's nothing to hold me back, and no regrets."

Reggie nuzzled next to me. 'And what if the rest of your life was destined to be one of luxury. What if your next job was going to be as a part-time well paid consultant who could telecommute half the time? Not to mention you're due for a fair set of social security checks in a few years.'

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!"

Percy flattened his ears and snarled. 'You're not hearing this. Though if you insist...' the cat disappeared, and the handsomest raven-haired man I'd ever seen appeared where the cat was. He had very thick hair, wide set eyes, sensuous lips, high cheekbones, a cleft chin, and a metaphysical delicacy. He looked rather feline, I thought. Or like some other noble predator. The copper-gold colour of his eyes that he had as a cat stayed with him, and I can't remember having ever seen any man in person who looked so striking! "Better?"

My lower jaw had dropped. "My god!"

Percy smiled. "A man named Andre Courtois merged his mind with me to hybridise my mind with that of your kind, and in turn more or less became part cat. Because of that, I also shape shift occasionally, though I do prefer my feline form. Those of the animal kingdom don't generally take on other forms, being there is no point to it. In fact, I'm the only one I ever met that does."

I scowled. "You look kind of familiar."

Percy sighed. "Yeah. The thing that used to take care of me on Earth when I was a house cat thought David Selby was the foxiest thing she ever saw in her life in male when she was alive, so I patterned myself after him. Of course I chose to keep my natural eye colour, and if you put us side by side; there are a few other minor differences; but if we're apart, you probably couldn't tell the difference between me and the real Mr. Selby if it weren't for the eye colour."

I think my head started spinning. I'm glad I was sitting down. "Reggie, what was that question you asked me?"

'Paraphrasing; what if the rest of your life was destined to be carefree and luxurious. Would you still have chosen to kill yourself?!'

I wasn't even paying attention to what I was saying; I was so beside myself! "Uh...no! I mean yes! This is so different. Like a phantasy movie! Like a faery tale. I also feel so good, for a change. Not all stiff and crotchety. We don't have to eat here, do we?"

"No, you are totally self-contained. You don't need anything to continue in your present state of existence. You are very low density, and you can walk through the walls of this cave, or shape-shift; like me. You also don't need to talk. You can send your thoughts or intent, and everyone in this realm who is interested will pick it up."

"I'd be a fool to want to live."

Reggie looked up at me. 'That's not what you thought before you were born to this last life of yours.'

"Huh?"

'You chose your last life. You plotted it out before you were born. Everybody of every species does that. Physical Existence is an addiction that one must overcome before they are freed from the wheel of reincarnation, and you cut out a little bit before you were due in your contract with yourself,' sent Reggie. 'You'll remember that soon enough.'

"And this means?"

'You have to make sure you did everything you wanted to do, leaving no stone unturned. If you are really, totally, completely at peace with yourself and you have been truly healed of your addiction; you can stay. If not, you're gonna get recycled for another round. You're here with us because there is one thing you have to sort out with yourself, and you have to face that yourself.'

"I think I know what it is," I said.

You know what it is,' sent Reggie.

"Regan! My kid. We never made up after our last argument. She walked out and never said a word to me again. If it wasn't for my ex-wife; I wouldn't even know where Regan lives. She's doing all right, though. I'm proud of her despite how much she loathes me for trying to bring her up right."

Percy said, "You were a good parent. There was never any discipline in anger. You raised an intelligent, independent, ambitions, uncompromising daughter who's avoided many pitfalls in life because of your teaching. She'll realise it after she finds out you're dead, and of course then she'll forgive you for doing your best; so to speak. Regan will regret her formerly harsh attitude toward you until her death, but everything will end, as it should. It always does."

Those words drove a knife into my heart. "I love her. I always did. I just let her go to make her own life and deal with her own feelings. Maybe I should have written her a good-by letter, but...and maybe I should have left my meager estate to her instead of Amnesty International, but she's the site manager for a disc maker, and she makes in a week what I made in a month, so..."

"Shall we leave you as you sort yourself out over this, and make sure you know you did the right thing or not?" asked Percy.

"You mean you don't know?"

'How can we know if you don't know?' asked Reggie.

"Now I'm going to be sitting here rationalising to myself that I made the right decision, where as before I talked to you I didn't even think of it."

'You would have thought of it later,' sent Reggie. 'Later regrets are not good. Clear your mind now to decide if you are really through with this realm of the Physical.'

"But I can't be brought back to life to undo what I've done, can I?"

'We can't do that. There is one living with us who can, but he won't.'

"And who might that be?" I asked.

'Thanatos. Grandchild of The Source.'

I nodded. "Don't go."

"Be your sounding board, huh?" asked Percy.

"I suppose so. If you weren't there, I'd be talking to myself."

'I think you'll be doing that even if we are here,' sent Reggie.

"You're probably right, but you know the only thing I regret is not offering Regan an apology; provided she even would have accepted it. For some reason I think I can do that later, so I want off the planet."

"True. You can give her that apology later," said Percy. "You can even invade a dream of hers when she invites you, after you re-consolidate with yourself."

I suddenly heard hoof beats. From around the corner I didn't see in the dark, a golden pony with a silver mane and tail appeared. Reggie sent, “Jordan, I think it’s time to go. Donn sent his main master to pick you up. Apparently you’re ours.’

Percy turned back into a cat. 'Main master?! I thought that was my title.'

Reggie went up to Percy, and nosed his forehead. 'You have Stefan, my dear. Donn is Hesper’s. Let’s go.’ Reggie looked at me. ‘You're going to have to figure out where you're going next.'

"OK," I said, as I mounted the pony with some difficulty. Hesper turned the corner and started walking toward a hall that I hadn’t known about until now. Percy walked after us, and Reggie landed on my right shoulder, and I gently held onto him to help stabilise him; whether he needed it or not.

'Thanks,' sent Reggie as he nosed me on top of the head.

When I came out of the other end of the short tunnel, I found two very attractive redheads sitting on a couch, each holding a cup of tea. A young man and a slightly older woman who I don't think could have been surpassed in beauty. The lady said, "Hiya Jordan. We're Donn and Macha. Welcome to The Otherside. Pour yourself a cup of tea and sit with us. I think Reggie and Percy already eased your mind on your new environment?"

"They did," I said as I walked over to the end table to get that tea. Reggie was still on my shoulder, and he'd stay there as I sat down on the far end of the couch. As soon as I got comfortable, Percy moved himself between Macha and myself, and proceeded to put his head on my thigh.

How strange. Here I was sitting with a Death god and a War goddess on the other end of the couch, I had a sabre toothed cat with his head on my lap, an archaeopteryx on my right shoulder, and the stallion Hesper just sat down doggy-style, by Donn, on the floor.

This was nice. As bizarre as Hell, but very nice!

Tsunami

I've been trapped here for five days, now. All edible food was history, I'd finished off all the bottled water I could find, and nothing of the sorts of plumbing and electricity has worked since the waves hit.

The water level was going down, but it was still there. I figured it was about waist high in the areas surrounding my little haven. I could leave, but I really wish I had a rowboat or something.

The water was vile. Garbage, raw sewage, bloated bodies of people and animals contaminated it, and shall I go into a graphic description of the smell?

Nah. I'll leave that to your imagination, though my un-bathed self didn't help.

I'd seen no survivors. This coastal village was wiped out. I also had to get out of here if I wanted to survive, which I'm surprised I did.

There weren't many tourists here since the economic collapse of the world, and I'd gotten a bargain at this near empty, three storey inn on what almost amounted to a hill on this low lying island nation. If I'd been outside on the balcony when the tsunami hit, I wonder if I'd have made it; though considering my circumstances, I wonder if I might have been better off dead.

But I wasn't dead. I had to get some clean drinking water and food if I didn't want to die a slow, uncomfortable death. I'd have to try to get inland for that, and I'd have to wade through this cesspool that surrounded me to do it.

Oh well. I didn't have a choice. The inn was on soggy ground, but no part of it was under water now. The water had flooded maybe 20 centimeters of the inn.

I'd go with the clothes on my back, which consisted of skivvies, shorts, a tank top and sandals; two changes of clothes, a few bars of soap I’d collected, a wash rag, the machete and rope-ring from behind the front desk in case I decided to try and climb a palm the native way, a small pot from the kitchen, and some matches. Those went into a backpack, and off I went.

Of course, when I got to the water a few metres out, I hesitated for a while before stepping into the disgusting mess. Nevertheless a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, so off I went.

I was lucky. The highest the water got, was mid-thigh. I had to travel through it for about a kilometer before I was on semi-dry ground again. I'd have to walk another two kilometers before I got to ground high enough not to be contaminated by the salt water, among other things.

There were easily accessible paths through the forest, and fruit trees everywhere; many of which I had no idea of the names of. I cleaned myself up at the first river I came to, and washed the clothes I wore; hanging them from low lying branches to dry. I decided not to get redressed for now, for who would see me naked; and if they did, would they care?

It was so ominously quiet. I didn't even notice any insects. The days before the waves hit, I had to cover myself in DEET to keep the bloodsuckers away from me, and now there was nothing. In fact, I hadn't even seen any fish in the river, and where were the monkeys that never shut up?

Oh, whatever.

After my cleanup, I set on feeding myself. That was easy. Getting something safe to drink wasn't terribly hard, either. There were tons of coconuts around, and I only had to climb one tree to get my fill of coconut milk; though I'm glad I didn't have to climb very high. That rope ring tree climbing technique was a bitch if you didn't have practise, but I managed...barely. De-husking wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, but I did that, too.

I didn't know where I was going. I was just following a trail that was occasionally adjacent to a river, or stream; rather, and the land supplied all the raw foods I could stand. I was gradually going up a very gentle slope, but where would I end up? I still haven't seen any signs of life.

Eventually I came across a one-room hut. I decided then to get dressed, and called out, "Is anyone there?"

There wasn't. There was a well outside, and I had some water. It was very cold, and surprisingly tasty. I waited for a while, and then went inside. There was a hammock, a stove, a frying pan, some other pots, dinner ware, baskets with rice, some sort of flour, yams, taro, other root veggies, breadfruit, mangoes, coconuts, starfruit, bananas, oranges, and things I'd never seen before. There was also oil, and various spices.

I waited until nightfall, and no one came by. I was getting hungry again and just couldn't resist cooking myself some rice, a yam, and a small bread roll. I thought a medium rare steak would have been nice, but this would do.

I passed out in the hammock, later.

I don't know how long I slept. I also had no memories of any dreams, which was unusual for me. When I sat up, I saw a string of dried fish pieces hanging up over the food baskets.

Someone apparently had been here, and I guess they didn't mind my presence. After all, they didn't wake me up. And the fish...was it meant for me?

I pulled one off the thin rope. I couldn't identify it, but it was seasoned and smoked. It was also quite good, and I had two more pieces with some more fruit.

I went to the well to get myself some water, and after I pulled the bucket up I about had a heart attack.

I saw a pig just three meters from me, and with me holding my bucket of water; I was in no position for my reflexes to do me much good. He was a boar, rather. He was lean, black, and he had some mighty wicked looking teeth. I heard wild pigs weren't too fond of people, and quite dangerous.

This one apparently hadn't read the rules. He was non-threatening, walked up to me, and actually sat down like a dog might. He made these grunting noises that bordered on cute, and he was almost beautiful. Almost. Impressive, at least! A well proportioned animal who came up to my waist. He was a big one.

Like a fool, I put my hand in front of his nose, but I figured if he'd been out to get me; I'd be gone already. He sniffed my hand, and made some more grunting noises. "You hungry?" I asked.

"Snort-snort."

Whatever. I went back into the hut and cut open a bunch of fruit, which I put into a large pot. I de-seeded six mangoes, threw in eight bananas with the tips cut off, a bunch of orange halves, and cut up some veggies for him.

He'd followed me into the hut, and watched me. I put the pot on the floor for him, and he dug in with gusto. Still, he was surprisingly neat and left no mess on the floor. I got him another pot of water, and he drank half of that up. After he finished, we went outside of the hut, and I sat down, next to him. He lay down to appreciate my petting him.

Well, at least I had some company now.

Something suddenly occurred to me. There were no bathroom facilities here, and I hadn't gone since I got here. There had been no need or urge. It made no sense. I also noticed I didn't smell bad. I sniffed my armpits, and there was nothing.

I had my arm around the boar, who showed his affection by snuffling me. I put my nose to his fur. I smelled nothing. I scratched him behind the ears, and tried to discern if he had 'pig breath'. Again, nothing.

"Am I dead, and in a tropical paradise kind of heaven?" I asked myself aloud.

'You could call it that,' came a Celtic accented voice into my head.

I looked around. There was no one here, but the boar. I looked at him. "Was that you?"

He looked back at me. 'Aye. If I'd been a live wild boar on a Physical tropical island, I would have torn you to shreds. My kind has issues with your kind, for justifiable reasons; you know.'

I scowled. "I suppose so. All we ever use you for was food, bristles, and leather, huh?"

'Mostly. And you yourself are quite fond of pork chops, Dave. We see your kind killing our kind, and know how you've exploited us throughout history.'

"You know my name?"

'Dude, if I can send you thoughts; don't you think I can also read them?'

I chuckled. "Makes sense. I suddenly feel guilty about my past diet."

'No need for that.' The pig disappeared, and an attractive you redheaded man stood where the pig used to be. I wasn't gay, but you've got to admit to aesthetics when they're there. "I've eaten pigs and other animals myself, when I was a child. The creatures of the Earth eat each other. It's the way things are meant to be."

I scowled. "What the Hell are you?"

He smiled. "I'm a Gate Keeper. Some call me a psychopomp, some a Death god; though I prefer to be called Donn."

"Well, you already know my name. Did you set this hut up for me?"

"Sure did. You can stay here for a while, or come to my estate to get settled and figure out where you're going to go next."

"What's your place like?" I had to ask. This was a nice place to visit, but being of the adventurous type; I wasn't opposed to checking out some new turf.

"It's a cold green island with sandy beaches, stone cliffs, a killer garden, a miniature golf course, and a castle with rooms dedicated to every culture, or should I say ‘notable’ culture that ever was."

"That sounds fantastic. I suppose it doesn't matter that I only have three pairs of clothes for tropical climes."

"Not at all," said Donn. "In fact, you don't have to feel temperature unless you choose to; in this realm. Note how neutral you feel right now. It would feel hot and muggy if you were still in the Physical Realm."

"I raised my right eyebrow with a smirk. "Would it be in bad form to say that I can live with that?"

Donn laughed. "My housemates are gonna love you." He extended his hand to me.

I took that hand, and all I saw before me transformed into a torch lit dining hall with a lavish table, the foxiest redheaded lady I ever saw sitting in one chair, a virtual clone of Donn who was taller, more stolidly built than Donn, but pure white with red glowing eyes, and one more red headed man with a nose that about reached across the table. Donn pointed to them. "The lady is Macha the Red, my virtual double is Thanatos, and the nose is Stefan."

The nose. Ok. The description fit. He wasn't a bad looking guy either, but hey.

Stefan and Thanatos simply waved, while the lady said in a come-hither voice, "Why hello there, David. Come join us at our feast."

I waved back, and said, "Hello back."

My first night in this House Of Death looked like it was going to be a blast.

Roller Coasters Start And End At Ground Zero

My name is Aurora Middleton. Economically, I've been all over the place. I've had many ups and downs. My life really was a roller coaster.

I was born to a poor woman and a G.I.! They couldn't take care of me in my early years, so I was left with well off grandparents on my father's side for the first few years of my life, and that was a never ending faery tale. But my grandparents were old, and they were both on the edge of dying when I was nine years old. My mother had to get me.

By that time, she had divorced the soldier and married a doctor. Mother was a beautiful lady who'd used those looks to move up in the world. The next five years were spent in a tightly controlled upper middle class life. It wasn't bad in some ways, but I had so many things forced on my plate. Piano lessons, ballet lessons, modelling classes, and all these expectations or demands on how to be a proper lady and future debutante, or something. They had me dress like a princess, even though I was a tomboy at heart. A lot of people envied me, but it wasn't really a life I wanted.

Three years later, my real daddy started writing me letters. He was out of the army, and had found employment in civilian life. He'd teamed up with his brother to rent a nice place in California, and asked me if I wanted to visit. I said yes.

I spent summer vacation with him. He gave me all I wanted, and more. I had a taste of personal freedom. I'd be living with him two years later. No, he wasn't rich; but I always had enough to eat, a roof over my head, and I'd always have that freedom. He soon married a very nice lady, and dad, mom and uncle became rich through hard work and investments.

I was always a total personal sovereignty nut. Life was good with my then current set of parents, but of course there were rules I had to abide by. That grated on me, so instead of getting a degree at college, I took the fast way out. I went to a technical trade school, and got a pretty decent job when I was 18. I stayed with my parents for one year to save enough money to get my own place and support my boyfriend.

Life on my own was hard for the next few years, but again…we always had enough. I was an overtime addict, so we were never threatened with being on the street. We even managed to save some money while Ian; my boyfriend was going to school. When Ian got a job, we saved all his money, and spent mine. We got married somewhere in there. We became statistically quite wealthy in the next few years, but we didn't live it. The money was all in the bank.

Ian and I ended up having a falling out over what amounted to ego problems, mostly mine. We were millionaires at the time, though he was the one who earned most of it. My job paid damn good, but it wasn’t in the six figures that he was making. We ended up going our separate ways, but because of that ego of mine, I refused to take one cent from the estate. Ian, having to prove he was just as much of a 'man' as me; ended up giving all his money away.

I decided I wasn't going to get into another relationship after that. I found I liked being alone and not compromising myself in the slightest. With my salary, I had no problem finding another place, and I partied it up; eating at fine restaurants every night, spending my money on killer clothes; heavy on the leather, and spoiling myself silly. That lasted for quite a while, but economic down turns happen.

Of course I'd had some money saved. I went through a few months of unemployment, underemployment, but I never suffered...until now. The whole economy was tanking, and I was going down with it. I was actually poor.

I was renting a studio, and though I did have enough to eat: I couldn't eat out anymore. I also never had the heat turned on, because I could barely pay my bills. Also, though I did find another job; it didn't pay much. I had to do overtime. Lots of overtime, and the rent ate up half of what I made. 12-hour shifts were the norm.

Doing 12-hour shifts was no problem when I was younger. I went for it. I was full of fire, high energy, and into personal fitness.

Now was another matter. I was 51 years old. I was worn out. The last good job I had paid enough for me to live comfortably on 40 hours a week. I'd gotten used to that. On 40 hours, I considered myself semi-retired, considering what I used to do to myself. I often did 60 hours a week until my early 40s.

I've been doing long weeks for the past eight months. I was so tired all the time; I don't know why I was still alive. I didn't see how some people could work two jobs most of their lives. Two full-time jobs?! I know I worked hard, but I couldn't handle that.

One thing that was nice is I had a couple of four-day weekends coming up with the holidays just around the corner. If I didn't mind being in a freezing apartment, that is. Man, I couldn't even afford to replace the electric blanket that died early this year. I just had that, and two other thread bare blankets left, but oh well. At least I wasn't living in my car, or worse. I guess I'd be drinking lots of tea. At least I could afford to do that. I could get a good Earl Grey at a decent price; thank the gods!

*****

It was Friday. I only did 58 hours this week. I was just too tired to do twelve hours on this last day. I'd live, though. And I would be getting a raise in four months. Then I might actually be able to cut back to 55 hours a week, depending. Provided my ridiculous rent didn't go up again. There were cheaper places, but it cost money to move, and I just didn't have it. I drove the three miles home through the mist and fog of this December night. When I got home, I found the apartment at 55 degrees Fahrenheit. When the people below me blasted their heater, I might have the thermometer in the low sixties, but that was rare. They were worse off that I was. They had kids to feed.

I don't know how my downstairs neighbours managed. I found studio life cramped alone, but there were five people below me in the same space that I could barely tolerate.

I thought nice hot shower would have been nice, but I think I would have collapsed. It would have warmed me up nicely, but I was so tired I thought I was going to throw up. Sleep must come first, in this case. I didn't even have enough energy to make myself a cup of tea. In fact, I wondered if I could even manage to get out of my clothes.

I didn't have a bed. I slept on a folded over sleeping bag with a sheet over it, and at my age; that was pretty hard on me. I'd wake up stiff and sore, if I slept wrong. The sleeping bag offered little padding, but it was better than nothing.

Yes, I tried using that sleeping bag in a conventional fashion to keep me warm. I really paid for it the next morning. I could barely move. At my age, I needed all the padding I could get.

So what had happened after I got up to my studio, I locked the door, went straight across the room to my sleeping bag, sat down, got my tennis shoes off, worked my way out of my pants, and lay down to go to sleep. Sleeping in my work shirt would help keep me warmer. I also kept my socks on. Thank the gods I could still get cheap socks at the discount places I shopped at.

I covered myself completely with the blankets. I'd warm up enough to be semi-comfortable in a few minutes. I passed out before that happened.

*****

When I woke up to go to the bathroom, I found I couldn't stand myself. I was smelling pretty ripe! Yeah, I'd take that shower now.

I threw the clothes I wore in the laundry, and hit the water. I was too zoned to notice that the Ivory soap I always bought wasn't what I grabbed. I washed my hair with that soap, being it did the job; and it saved me from having to buy shampoo. I think I saved some money that way. Ivory was cheap. But this wasn't Ivory. I found that out when I washed my face.

This soap smelled of jasmine. I hadn't bought jasmine soap in over a year. It cost too much.

I should have been alarmed, but I wasn't. I was too out of it to care. I was just enjoying the hot water, and the fact I'd be comfortable for the next half hour or so. I'd turn the water to almost scalding before getting out, so the warmth would stay with me for a while.

I soaped myself up, rinsed, repeated, and got myself all nice and toasty. I then got out, dried off some, cleaned my ears, brushed my teeth, put on some deodorant that I remembered to be a Musk Power Stick, but wasn't. More jasmine, but I didn't even notice that. The deodorant stick was the same shape, and I was completely unaware of the label not being the same, not to mention being oblivious to the change in scent. The dim light didn't help, either. I absently reached for the cologne bottle that I didn't remember buying, and sprayed myself with that. More jasmine.

I then went back to bed. I didn't even bother getting into my skivvies, which I never slept without. I curled up to keep warm better, and covered myself up all the way, as usual. I passed out again.

The next time I woke up, it wasn't that I had to go to the bathroom. Far from it! I was shivering. I was colder than an ice cube. I was covered in goose bumps. I put my head out from under the covers, and I saw the vapour from my breath. It was like someone had opened my door and windows, but they were still shut. The room actually felt like it could freeze water. I got back under cover and curled up again. I was so exhausted now I wished I hadn't taken that shower! But I'd felt more awake then. Oh, whatever!

Strange. The floor felt softer. I felt like I was lying on a mattress.

I must not have been fully awake. Nothing had changed when I'd poked my head out from under the blankets, except for the temperature. It felt like I might as well have been outside. I stretched my right leg for a moment, and...and...the bottom of my sleeping bag! It felt warm. My foot felt like it had just been immersed in hot water, or something. It was like one small part of my bedding either had a toasty heating pad or electric cover. It made no sense, but in my semi-comatose state; I was in no condition to question anything. I curled up again, lower to the bottom of the sleeping bag, but the heat suddenly went away. In fact, it seemed where the heat had been was now iced.

OK. I was fully awake now. I flinched, and withdrew from the cold. I straightened out again, and what had been cold was warm again. After a few experiments, I found out the bottom of the sleeping bag was warm when I was straightened out, and would be cold when I tried to savour the warmth by curling up around it.

What was even stranger is the next time I straightened out; the warmth had spread halfway up to my calves. The bed covers felt heavier, as well. Of course, when I looked; again nothing had changed. Was I losing my sanity, or was I having a lucid dream? What I was feeling, and what I was seeing didn't jive. They had nothing to do with each other.

I couldn't handle it. I closed my eyes, and tried to go back to sleep...as the heat crept up to my knees.

Gods, how I wanted to dive down to that almost two feet at the bottom of the sleeping bag beneath me, but I knew I couldn't. The temperature would drop again. I had to stay straight, for the top most of me to freeze, as the heat crept up.

When the heat got to mid-thigh, I noticed the texture of the sheets had changed. They felt smoother. Luxurious. Satiny. My now warmed fingertips could feel it.

I couldn't bend myself in the slightest to further get more of the heat below. I tried, and it was like someone threw ice water over all of me. I still had to stay perfectly straight.

As the warmth spread to my hips, I became aware of a heavenly jasmine scent permeating the bedding. I also felt a slight, not unpleasant pressure around my lower legs. I felt like I was wearing socks, though I wasn't going to risk losing the warmth to verify that. When I touched the side of my hips, I found I was wearing underwear that I didn't put on.

I must have been dreaming.

I didn't move, not wanting to disrupt what was happening. By the time the heat crept up to my naval, I was no longer feeling like I was going to die of hypothermia. At least my arms were warmed up from hand to elbow, in addition to the rest of me. The warmth seemed to travel up me about an inch a minute. So slow for one suffering, but not seeming eternal!

When the warmth had reached up to my neck, I had to sit up. I was actually getting hot.

I found I was wearing a black nightgown. It was a satin silk thing, and it looked very expensive and sexy. When I sat up, my surroundings melted. I found myself sitting in a curtained canopy bed, in a room with a high ceiling, stone walls, and a screened off fireplace was blazing in front of the only open curtain to my left. A young, blondish man was standing beside me, holding a tray with a hell of a lot of stuff on it with an amazing steadiness. I'd later find his hair to be light red, but in the dim room; it was hard to tell. "Breakfast in bed, madam?" he asked in an Irish accent.

I know my reality had just gone topsy turvy, but the food and tea smelled so overpoweringly good, and the guy was so cute, and his accent was so adorable, and everything was just so perfect, how could I freak out? "Thank you very much, sir. Now can you explain what has just happened to me?"

He smiled. "You finally died of exhaustion, and I; Donn Ui'Midir, one Gate Keeper of Ireland; has bid you welcome to my house until you decide to leave it." He put the bed tray over my lap without the slightest quiver.

I smiled back, as I had a bite of an omelette with spinach, mushrooms, onions, and red bell peppers. It was heavily buttered, and very rich tasting. "I didn't know death was this easy."

"It can be, for some people. It can also be a royal bitch. It depends on the individual, not that I deal much with the bastards of life."

"Not much, huh?" I had to ask. "And what happens when you do?"

He winked at me. "I make sure they live to be at least a hundred and twenty."

Considering what death really was, I had to laugh...before I patted the side of the bed and asked him to join me for the lavish breakfast I knew I couldn't finish alone.

Oasis

I'd been driving for miles. The land was flat, the corn and wheat fields were ubiquitous, and I was tired. Oh, so tired. This sort of landscape was beyond imagination in England. So much open land, and not seeing one other car for at least a half hour? It was hypnotically monotonous, and that did not mesh well with having driven for the past twelve hours.

I pulled off to the side of the road. I had to get some sleep, or I'd pass out at the wheel. I got into the back seat, made myself as comfortable as I could, and I was out before five minutes had passed.

*****

I don't know how long I was asleep, but a loud noise woke me up. A crash? A gunshot? I had no clue. What I did know, is that I was no longer in my car and it didn't look like I was in Kansas anymore. There was absolutely no explanation for the sound, and I couldn't begin to imagine what the source was, judging from my current surroundings.

I was laying on a sand dune under an open sky. I was completely surrounded by those dunes! I dragged myself up, kind of in a panic; and worked my way to the top of one of said dunes. Toward the setting sun halfway down the horizon, it looked like the sand faded to rocky ground; but in the other directions, the sand seemed to go on forever.

It wasn't that hot, for being twilight. I didn't have a clue on what happened or how I ended up here, but I would do what I had to do. I started walking toward the sun, where the landscape showed a promise of change. I didn't think I was in any position to survive for very long, but I'd rather not die in the sand.

I didn't trudge in the miniscule silica particles for too long before the ground became easier to walk on. The ground became a stone and dirt covered desert with no plant life in the immediate area, but there seemed to be things growing ahead. Bushes of sorts, or something! They were well in visual range, so there was some sort of water supply somewhere not too far away, though I may have to dig for it, provided I could find something to dig with.

As I continued walking, I really wonder what had happened to me. Had I been drugged, my car ripped off, and me dropped off in New Mexico or something?

But I wasn't injured, or hungry, or thirsty, and I didn't seem any dirtier or smellier than I should have been if I'd only slept for a couple of hours.

I didn't know. I couldn't think of an explanation for my circumstances. I guess it didn't really matter how I got here. What mattered was the fact that I was here, and had to get out and back to civilisation; or at least try. It was a matter of the survival instinct, and all.

When I got to the bushes, I saw trees ahead. It looked like the ground got grassy, in the distance. So the terrain was growing friendlier.

The horizon line was about three miles away. The land was still as flat as a pancake, but the landscape was changing drastically over very short distances. It took me to get to the trees to finally realise the sun wasn't setting. It hadn't moved at all, since I'd been woken up.

This was weird beyond weird. I really was in the twilight zone, in more ways than one.

The trees were becoming more and more prevalent. In fact, I swear there was a forest ahead. I also came across a bush with some kind of berry on it.

No, not berries. Currants! Black currants. I hadn't had those fresh since I'd been living with my parents as an adolescent. They always cost too much for a working woman like me, but I still bought and loved current preserves, and current scones! I wasn't hungry, but I ate a bunch anyway. They were absolutely delicious. The bush was loaded, and I must have eaten half a kilogram of them. I was pretty happy at the moment, and any unease I had over my situation was gone.

I carried on with my journey, glad to know the place offered food. I could no longer see the sun, which was obscured by the trees, but the light level was still the same.

When I entered the forest, I was lucky enough to happen on a deer trail or something. I also found there was a stream beside me, and it went parallel to the trail...at least for now. I wasn't thirsty, but it was nice to know the stream was there.

It was quiet. So eerily quiet. No insect noises, nothing. And so beautiful!

It seemed like I walked forever, but night never came. There were all kinds of trees. Maples, and birches, and oaks, and firs, and willows, and there were even patches of fruit trees scattered about. Brambles berries were pretty common, and it was incredible.

I still wasn't thirsty, but I decided to have a drink anyway from that stream that rarely left the side of the trail. The water was near freezing, and I couldn't believe water could taste that good.

The stream was perfectly clear. The water's bed was rocky. I saw no fish or algae. It looked completely sterile. It was as lifeless as this forest seemed to be. This was totally unreal.

I felt so comfortable. The temperature had been perfect since I'd awoken in the dunes, and it hadn't changed. Though it made no sense whatsoever, night still had not befallen.

I began to question my reality. Was I having a lucid dream? By now it was a dream I hoped to never awaken from.

The fruit here was beyond description. All the berries and cherries and apples were the best I'd ever had. There were peaches, and apricots, and figs, and oranges, and even though these things didn't come into season all at once, here they were, for the simultaneous picking. Something was desperately wrong, or rather desperately right. Whatever the case, I felt like if I thought about it too much I'd get a headache that heroin wouldn't alleviate.

The path beneath me had turned from dirt to gravel. This had the touch of man. The forest was also turning into fruit and nut orchards. For the next few kilometers, I was rarely without something in my hand. Strange, but I wasn't getting full, though I admit I wasn't hungry either. I was just eating for the sake of hedonism.

The landscape would soon change. The path became cobbled, and the scene of the orchards ended. There were still trees, but they were sparser, and more like those that you would find in a forest in my England. I also noticed it was finally getting darker, and now there was a chill in the air.

Up ahead was a structure of sorts. I could barely make it out, but whatever it was; was big.

As I got closer to it, I found it was a castle that must have covered hell knows how much ground. In between it and myself, was a wall. I knew I had no business going toward it, but go toward it I did.

I heard a wave crashing. I looked behind me. All I had walked through was gone. I saw that my cobbled path led to the end of the landmass I was on. When I came here, I walked across land, but now it was a sea. A vast sea!

OK, I was dreaming. Granted, this was the most vivid and lengthy dream I had ever had in my life, but what else could it be? I would eventually waken on the side of a highway in the middle of Kansas, from my cross-country trip from Seattle, Washington to Miami, Florida. I'd never been across The Pond before, and this old girl just had to do it once before she died. All the open space in this country was pretty wild, and the small towns had their charm; but I had to admit I rather liked the cities. The restaurant selections really amazed me. They had food from places I barely remember hearing about. I'd never been to a Laotian eatery before, in my entire life. I'm not sure they had any back home.

The path I was on led to a bridge across a moat, and the castle gate was open. I went over the bridge, and a sign was posted on the wall next to the gate entrance that had been carved in stone. It said, 'MANY HAVE WALKED THIS WAY, AND YOU ARE WELCOME'.

Well, that beat 'ABANDON HOPE, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE', or whatever that was. Provided this wasn't going to end a little differently from Hansel and Gretel, that is. But this was only a dream, so it didn't matter; right?

I took the invitation, and walked through the gate, through a short tunnel. The outer walls of this castle were mighty thick.

When I got through the tunnel, I found myself in the most beautiful courtyard I ever saw. It was torch lit, there were several ornate fountains, some statuary of mythical animals such as gryphons and unicorns, flowers in bloom, topiary, a few trees shading stone benches, a couple of nice gazebos, and a blond kid dressed in a black, wrap-around belted tunic, leotards, and boots; who was sitting on one of those benches with a large white cat of sorts.

The kid hailed me. "Hello. I've been expecting you." He looked like an angel, though up close even in the dim light, I found his hair was more red than blond. He had an Irish accent that was just as heavenly as he looked. I was one of the English who had a bit of appreciation for my Celtic cousins. I liked their music and their art. That went for Scotland and Wales, as well.

I walked over to him. He had his arm around the cat, which appeared to be an albino snow leopard. The cat's eyes were closed, and I could swear the animal was smiling. "You were? You know me?"

"Yes, Lorraine. You left your car door open on the road. You were pretty easy pickings. The thugs that killed you didn't even need to damage the vehicle before they took it, which is more than I can say for you."

How did he know my name? "So you're telling me..."

"To the world, you're dead. You can also sit on the other side of this lovely part time cat and join me in coddling him. He loves the attention in stereo."

I sat down, and took the invitation. His fur was so soft, and he rubbed the side of his face against me. "He's beautiful. Part time cat?" The cat opened his eyes, and they glowed red.

I heard a voice, and it wasn't the lad who was sitting not quite next to me. 'I'm a shape-shifter, as are all in this realm. I'm not innately a snow leopard. It's a form I take to meet new people when my usual form might be uncalled for.'

I nosed the snow leopard's forehead, and stroked his cheeks. "You talking to me, kitten?"

'Communicating. Telepathy is the norm here, though the Etheric Realm is still low enough to talk. In this form I can only make the sounds of a snow leopard.'

"So what do you look like in your regular form?"

'Like Donn. The man to the other side of me, only taller, a little stockier, my skin and hair are as white as I am as this snow leopard, and the red glowing eyes stay with me. It was how I was remade after I committed suicide a long time ago, and though I do occasionally take the form I was born with; the one I described one suits me better.'

Donn said, "It used to get him laid more."

The cat laid his ears back, and bared his teeth. Snow leopards can't roar, but he came as close to it as he could. "Shut up, you turd! You know damn well I prefer celibacy these days!"

Donn ruffled the fur on top of the cat's head and laughed. "Technically, huh?"

The cat looked at me. 'Pretend you didn't hear that.'

I laughed. "Don't worry. I'll leave you alone. I'm kind of old for that sort of thing anyway. 62 is a bit past my prime, and..."

Donn interrupted me with even more laughter. "Lorraine Crowley, you must really have a look at yourself." A mirror appeared in his hand, and he held it before me.

I looked like I did when I was in my mid twenties, and I had to admit I was gorgeous. Black hair, pale skin, and eyes of the most vivid blue! "OK, maybe not. You know, I never imagined death to be like this. No dark tunnels with light at the end, no relatives waiting to greet me, no Jesus experience, no nothing that I read about."

"A lot of people do experience that, but just as many don't. After you got over your initial terror, didn't you enjoy coming here the way you did?" asked Donn as the mirror disappeared into where it came from.

"Very much so. It was quite an adventure. You have the tastiest fruit, a most peaceful atmosphere, and it's beautiful here."

"That's why I led you to me by way of the illusions you experienced. And you don't like your relatives all that much anyway."

I smiled. "True. Upper class, titled elitists! I identified more with the working girl, and that's what I became. I didn't need to be coddled and served in some gilded cage with strings attached to everything I've got."

'We like that attitude,' sent the cat.

I scratched him under the chin, and he stretched his neck out just like a house cat, making chin scratching access easier; and implying I should keep it up. "What's your name, kitten?"

'Thanatos is the original name, though my re-maker called me Keith. Whatever you prefer.'

"I love the name Keith," I said. He'd 'pronounced' it the Irish way. Kayth.

'Hmmmmmmmmmmm. Now would you like to do this to me on a couch in front of a nice warm fire, being you're choosing to feel the cold at the moment; and I'm picking up on it.'

True, I was cold. "Choosing to feel the cold?" I asked.

Donn said, "You don't have to feel anything here. Sensation is optional. You feel cold because you expect to feel cold. Remember earlier when you were walking through the illusory orchards that you felt perfectly comfortable, because in reality you weren't feeling anything at all?"

"Oh," I said.

"Then when you hit the cobblestones and you were under the impression the night was taking hold, you felt cold. That was because you conditioned yourself to feel cold, because you thought you should. You could turn the temperature sensitivity off, though you'll first have to learn how to control that ability. I can help you with that in a little while."

I smiled. "I'd like that, but I must admit I would very much like to snuggle with this neon-eyed snow cat on a couch in front of a fire right now."

Donn stood up, and so did Keith, after rubbing his head on my arm. "It's a little bit of a walk from this part of the castle, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it. It's quite a scenic view."

"I hope you have torch lit halls."

"Of course. I wouldn’t dream of electric lighting in this place." He suddenly wrinkled his nose. "Uh oh. Incoming. Don't worry Lorraine, he's a sweetheart."

"Who?" I asked, a bit confused.

I found out in seconds. A big black cat with a long tail and sabretooth fangs ran up in front of me; placed his paws on my shoulder, and his nose to mine. 'Me. My name is Percy, and if you're going to snuggle with this imposter of a cat, you are also going to snuggle with a REAL cat.'

What could I say? "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. ." It was needless to elaborate that I was stunned out of my wits.

Percy rubbed his head gently against my shoulder. 'Come onnnnnnnn. I'm just anudder puddytat. I can't purr as I am, but I would if I could. Your thoughts are mine, and I adore you.'

I had to laugh, and put my arms around him. "So you know I'm a cat lover. All right. Let's go to that couch so I can coddle the two most beautiful puddytats I ever saw in my life."

'Yes, let's,' agreed Keith.

Percy let me up, and Donn led us through the torch lit corridors of his vast castle to the room I would learn is the room of the perpetually burning fireplace.

I was told I could stay here until I got sick of it. I didn't know that I ever would.

In this case, Death was my Oasis in the desert.

The Bridges To Home

"Rick, it is the middle of the night; and the fog is thicker than pea soup. Weird for this area, but I'm sitting this out."

I swiped my card on the time clock. I looked at Josie. "Dude, I have been here for 18 hours, and it's Saturday. I am tired, and I wanna go home."

"All the more reason you should wait. If I lit up now, I probably couldn't see the light at the end of my ciggy if I was outside. You could sleep on the couch in the lady's room. Everybody does it."

"I know. When I have less than eight hours off between shifts on weekends, I do it myself."

"And we have all the comforts of home. Coffee, tea, some decent stuff in the vending machines."

"I'd rather go to the Ginger Jar across the street." I never wanted to see one of those horrid sandwiches from the vending machines again. I didn't know how people could eat those things. Once during the year-end rush I ate them for about two weeks straight, and I didn't feel too good by the end of those two weeks. I haven't bought anything from them since.

"So would I, but I can't afford that."

Oh, I'm sure Josie could if she didn't have three kids to support along with a two pack a day habit, wasn't financing a new car, and making a ridiculous half a house payment every month. Yeah, her husband worked, but with the price of day care taking half her salary, I wondered why she worked. Their taxes were probably ridiculous when combined. I know mine were when I was stupid enough to be married. They might have come out ahead net if she didn't work and looked after her kids, being her husband made more than her; and would be able to declare a greater tax deduction. "It's all a matter of priorities," I said.

I never had a new car in my life, always rented the cheapest place in town, and got a vasectomy the month after I turned 18. No, I didn't make the most on the planet; but with my low overhead, zero interest payments, and lots of overtime; money had never been much of a problem for me. With regular living, I couldn't spend all I made. I'd have to go out of my way, and yeah; riiiiiiight. It wasn't gonna happen.

"Yeah, having a family as a priority does cost, but it's worth it."

Suuuuuuuure. That's why you're always bitching about what little sleep you get, and how much in debt you are, and how little time you have, and on and on. "Uh huh. I'm leaving."

I turned, and walked toward the door.

"Richard Jacob, I hope to see you Monday night."

I looked at her. "Probably. I don't think God is through abusing me yet." Or should I have said, 'I don't think Yahweh is through abusing me yet?'

Oh, I don't know. I wasn't the world's best Jew. I'd read the Torah, parts of the Talmud, and I couldn't for the life of me understand how anyone could measure up to being a Talmudic Jew, being the constraints were a bit harsh and unnatural. I knew the alleged biblical history of the Hebrews, but I also knew the fact that some of it looked historically questionable. I knew the rituals, celebrated quite a few of the days, but I didn't really live the life. I was even a holocaust questioner. I think it happened, but I doubt the numbers were as high as was said. I had a pretty secular mind. I thought my free will was more important than the religion I was born into. I also thought Zionism sucked. It made no sense, and a people calling themselves The Chosen People made even less sense. If there was one God, wasn't He, or It the God of everyone?

I walked out of the computer room, down the hall, through the mailroom, through the courier pickup room, and out the building. I wouldn't have been able to find my car if I didn't know where it had been parked.

Maybe I was stupid. I probably would have been wise to go back and wait for a few hours to see if the fog would clear, but wisdom wasn't always one of my attributes. I could be as reckless as Hell sometimes, and this was sometimes.

I got into my car, reset my secondary odometer so I could know where I was without having to see the landmarks, turned the high beams on, and backed out slow. I must have hit the streets at three miles an hour.

All I had to do was cross the street to get to the freeway entrance. Then I'd drive a mile, and hit the bridge. After I got over the water, the fog would probably clear so I could see the end of my gorgeous beak of a nose outside of my car. The bridge was six miles long, but I figured it might be a safe drive if I didn't go over forty miles an hour. I'd be able to see taillights, and I might even be able to follow those lights.

I could barely see the traffic lights, but hey. I said I could barely see them, I didn't say I couldn't see them. When they turned green, I went.

I ended up driving more like thirty miles an hour, and I used the lights of the bridge to guide me. My entire drive home was fifteen miles. On a good day, it took me about eighteen minutes. Tonight, who knows?

When my reset odometre hit about three miles, I caught up with someone. I saw two red lights ahead of me. I slowed to their speed, which was more like twenty miles an hour. Aaaaaaaaargh, but I liked the idea of travelling slower behind the vehicle ahead of me more than the concept of crashing into something that wasn't lit up; and going ten miles an hour faster.

I kept a good following distance, and my eyes were mostly frozen on the lights, with the occasional glance at the odometer.

The lights ahead! They were turning pink. No, they were pink. I just noticed, in my semi-hypnotised state. Did another vehicle...no! Rear lights weren't pink. They were red, or red and white.

Weird. I looked at my odometre. Eight miles. I was on land. The fog showed no sign of abating. The freeway would end in three miles. I'd have a traffic light; go down a business district street for two miles, then one mile down a residential spot that was my home stretch.

Not one car had passed me. There were no lights in my rear view mirror. The lights ahead of me were turning colour again. This time I saw it happen. They went from pink to purple. The most beautiful purple I ever saw in my life. They wouldn't change again. I didn't understand it, but what could I do?

I ended up totally mesmerised by those lights. I no longer checked the odometre...until it said I'd travelled twenty miles.

Needless to say, I panicked. The fog was still as thick as pea soup, I'd not noticed any traffic lights or storefront lights, and I'd travelled five miles further than where I'd live. I also didn't hit any of the little hills and valleys on the way home. The road had been flat. The bridge had a high rise for boats to go under, but I didn't even remember that; now that think of it.

I stopped my car, and got out.

That's when the fog started to lift. It didn't go away, but I had some visibility.

I didn't know where I was.

I was on a road, and there were tons of trees on both sides. I was in the middle of a forest road, but there were none of those where I was supposed to be. In fact, the road I was on being a straightway from the freeway ended about a mile after my home.

I had enough visibility to turn around and go back.

If only my car would start. It was like the battery was dead. Oh, shit! Big time!

I stepped back outside. It was cold. Just after midnight in November was not comfortable in these parts.

I saw lights ahead again. Red. Close together. Very bright, and they were in the wrong direction from where I wanted to go. The lights were in pairs. They were high off the ground, with one pair being a little higher than the other, and very close together. In fact, they looked like two pairs of eyes, but eyes couldn't glow red. The fog was still thick enough to obscure the source of the light, but I could make my way without crashing into something now. Should I follow the lights, or should I go back and hope I could find my way home?

How stupid and reckless was I feeling now? A part of me was more than a little frightened, but there was the curiosity factor of what was behind those lights.

They weren't that far away. I walked forward. Just when I started to see a shape, the lights disappeared, and I heard the clip-clop of a horse.

No! Those couldn't have been the eyes of a horse and rider.

I froze. When I looked down, the street was cobbled. I looked back, and my car was gone. I should still have been able to see it.

I admit it. I was terrified.

The lights came back into view.

I wanted to run back to where I came from. When I looked in that direction, the street was cobbled there too, when just moments before it had been paved.

I wasn't where I used to be. What were those lights? The fog was getting thinner, and I should be able to see. But I lost sight of the lights again, and I heard a horse running away.

The road turned left, and I saw a castle a couple hundred yards before me. It was huge. It went way above the trees, and I couldn't see the ends of it from where I was. I moved forward, and there was a bridge over a decorative moat with lily ponds, and such. Torches lit up the front and the short tunnel on the other side of the bridge that I assumed would lead to a courtyard. The gates were wide open.

There was no castle like this anywhere near where I lived. This made Versailles look like a peasant shack from what I saw. I didn't understand what was happening.

I heard a whisper. "Welcome. It's OK. Come on in. It's cold out, and we have fire and hot tea and cocoa. Bread and soup, too." The whisper was accented. It sounded Celtic, and had a masculine touch.

"Where are you?"

"Ahead. Go across the bridge, through the tunnel to the courtyard. Cross the courtyard, and go to the door. It's not locked. Turn right, and go left down the second hall. You'll get to a place more comfortable."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Why shouldn't you? If we wanted to hurt you, you'd already be history."

I couldn't argue. "Who's we?!"

"Two of us are Donn and Macha. I won't tell you who I am yet, because you know of me and wouldn't believe me."

I'd believe anything by now, but I didn't say that. I just followed the instructions. The names were odd. 'Dun' and 'Maha', though the second syllable of Maha sounded like a cat's hiss preceded it, or something.

The minute I stepped on that bridge over the moat, I felt all my fear melt away. I felt this incredible peace come over me like I never felt before. The bridge was maybe twenty feet, and the tunnel was perhaps ten. When I saw the courtyard, I was flabbergasted.

There were multi-coloured fires on various standing torches, and fountains, and perfect flowers of all kinds, and shade trees, and a couple of gazebos. I was too cold to fully appreciate the beauty, but I knew I wanted to come back to it in the day.

I suddenly became aware the fog was completely gone. I also felt like my nose was getting frostbite, or something. I ran to the entrance, up the seven steps to a veranda porch, and opened the front door.

It was ornately carved with a heavy black metal knocker, and it was quite thick; but it opened with ease. I closed it behind me.

It was just about as cold inside, as outside. There were torches on the walls. Many torches, but they didn't do much for heating the place up. Right I went, and it must have been a quarter mile before I came to that second corridor the mysterious voice whispered to me. I turned left, not that there was another way to turn; and damn, could these halls get any longer?

I saw a bright light ahead. I started running. That helped warm me up, and it wasn't long before I came to the lit room.

There were two fireplaces at opposite ends of the room, and tons of torches on the walls. There were two ways to get in. My way, and there was another corridor on the other side of where I came in. There was a fair sized dining table with a candle chandelier hanging over it, and I recognised the two neon eyes I'd seen on the road. They belonged to an amazingly attractive man who was whiter than snow. He had thick, long, alabaster hair and a face that was more beautiful than handsome. I wasn't gay, but one had to give this work of art his due. There was another man who looked almost the same as the white one, but with red hair and a little more colour to his skin. He was also of slighter stature than the white one. The most striking of all was a red haired Amazon that Helen of Troy couldn't have held a candle to.

"One of you invited me here?" I asked.

"Yes, Rick. It was I. Me and my horse Gilgamesh were the two who met you on the road." I recognized the voice and accent.

"Why did you run away from me?" I asked

"Look at me. What would you have done if you'd seen me like this before the peace of death came over you?"

"I'm dead?" I asked, though I wasn't really that surprised.

"You got broadsided right before you got to the freeway entrance. I led you here."

"And you are?"

"Thanatos. The lady is Macha the Red, and my virtual twin is Donn Ui’Midir. Donn is my Irish counterpart, and Macha is a War goddess in addition to being a psychopomp, like me. Stefan's out on assignment, but you'll meet him soon enough. Have a seat and have some food with us. Corn chowder, creamed black tea with mango flavour or cocoa with whipped cream, and the bread is buttered and warm."

I walked to the table and sat down. "Greek Death god. OK. The dead can eat, huh?"

"There really is no death, though we ourselves occasionally misuse the term," said Donn. "The transferred can eat...or not. You can also choose not to feel temperature. It's all voluntary here."

"And where is here?" I asked.

Donn said, "Tech Duinn. It means House Of Donn. I built this place, and it lies between what you call Life and Death. It's where you go before you get placed where you belong."

I scowled. "Does that mean another life?"

"In your case, I think not," said Thanatos. "You strike me as being too evolved for that. You seem as though you should be in the Elysian Fields, or with Osiris. You'll have to check out both realms later, at your leisure."

I had a bowl waiting for me, and I ladled some soup into it. I took a piece of bread and dunked it into the soup. When I bit into it, I found that I don't think I ever had anything as good. "The Greek or Egyptian afterworld for a Jew?"

"We click better than you and Azrael," said Thanatos. "He would have worked, but this was better."

"Man, I had no idea dying would be so easy," I said.

"It isn't always," said Macha. "Not everyone deserves an easy death, but for those that do, your way was very common. We cast the illusion to quite a few that they simply walk into The House Of Death."

I poured myself some tea. That was damn good as well. I wasn't cold in the slightest, by now. I looked at Thanatos. "If you're Greek, why do you have an Irish accent?"

He chuckled. "That's a long sordid story, and you're quite welcome to read it if you like."

I smiled. "Sordid, huh?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe what we've been through; or what we've done before we got to where we are," said Donn.

"Oh, I don't know about that. How long can I stay here?"

"As long as you like," said Donn. "A few stay with us forever, but that's not in your nature. You'll want to move on, I'm certain. The timing is completely up to you, though."

I raised a cup of tea to them. "What can I say, but thank you?"

Everyone else raised their cups back to me. "No worries," said Thanatos. "Just enjoy your stay and do what you gotta do."

Tea And Philosophy

Thanatos, Stefan, and I were sitting on the edge of one of Tech Duinn's many courtyards on my isle between the worlds of 'Life' and 'Death', as most knew it. We were in a covered patio area, because those ever-present Irish rains were coming down at a nice moderate pace. The winds were low, and being we'd decided to go temperature sensitive; we were pleased to find it wasn't that cold.

We were at a round stone table, seated on a four-part split circle stone bench. We were actually all on separate benches, as opposed to being snuggled on one. In the centre of the table was a pot of East Indian chi, complete with ghee, honey, and cream. The pot would never run out, like the Undry Cauldron of my grandfather (Eochaid Ollathair). We often came here to hold pointless philosophical discussions for Stefan's sake, being he still liked to be reassured on things he knew damned well; but at the same time, couldn't quite 'grok' in their entirety. Neither Thanatos nor I minded. At times we found it entertaining, for Stefan could occasionally be quite amusing with his proverbial one-liners.

"I can't believe how stupid I was, or how pissed I still am at Chaos, Source, Whatever." said Stefan

"Dude! How many times have we been over this?" I asked.

"I lost count after 5,000, but I can't believe something as crass as the Physical Realm could have been invented; and I can't believe how many lives I asked to live. I'd like to take a flame thrower to my past selves for being so brainless."

"Hey!" I objected. "For the umpteenth time, even I’ve lived as a mortal."

"Thrice!" said Stefan. "Me, on the other hand; had to live a few hundred lives before I got life out of my system. And you know something Donn? I'm not sure I'd be through with it now if you hadn't met me that time I tried to kill myself."

"Oh, I'm sure you would have. All you did during your last life was bitch about what a bitch life was." I had a sip of that delicious chi.

"Well, with the animal abuse, environmental abuse and general inequalities of everyone and everything, how can I not? And why the fuck did Source not make the genders more equitable in physical stature and power?"

Thanatos said, "I don't think the population would have gotten much more than a half billion if that were the case, and the eras would have had to have been a hell of a lot longer for all those idiots, as you call them; addicted to 'The Fall' to get over it."

'The Fall', as Thanatos had called it, was the voluntary coming to the Physical Realm of the more curious particles of Source, which took the form of everything Physical that was. Plants, animals, gases, rocks...and everything else! That same everything was sentient to a degree. All that existed was made of the same thing, though some things vibrated at slower rates than others; and were incorrectly deemed soulless by humanity. (Yeah, I know I’ve talked about this before, but this is a short story set where you have to take each story individually and ignore the fact the others exist while you’re reading the story you’re reading, all right?)

This was not so. All was composed of atoms, and though things were put together differently; everything was equally part of The Source, equally 'alive', and equally aware. There were cultures cognisant of this, including mine. The Tuatha de Dannan. The Jains are another. Not only do the true followers of the Jain religion not harm animals; but they didn't harm plants either! If a fruit fell from a tree, one may eat it; but one may not pluck the fruit from the tree, nor uproot a carrot, nor risk causing pain to a plant in any way.

Of course the Tuatha were not necessarily so highly concerned about inconveniencing the life forms they considered edible, or otherwise. I personally stopped eating meat in my days on Earth, but vegetarianism was not the general Tuatha way. If something tasted good, it was eaten with gusto. The Tuatha were generally a hedonistic, sensualistic tribe. The Hell with not causing pain on Earth! Pain happened. The pain free way was for the Afterlife. All of existence was a party, and nothing was going to stop your typical Tuatha lad or lass from enjoying anything and everything to the hilt; though the 'to be eaten' animals were well treated before slaughter, and the slaughter was done as quickly and humanely as possible; which was a somewhat redeeming trait in my opinion.

Though the Tuatha knew everything equal, it was hard to tell by our actions. We didn't treat everything equally. We treated some animals better than others, especially the horses. They were highly valued, and it showed. We were also rather charitable, and if a stranger came to the door, they would most likely be fed. When we had a town party, those who had more; provided more.

We were also a fiery lot. We fought each other; we killed each other over insipid insults, yet we knew death was not an end; but a passage to somewhere else where we may be reborn if we so chose. We didn't take it too hard, generally.

On the other hand, being killed was the only way for my kind to 'die'. We were naturally immortal, a magical lot, and stopped aging when we hit our prime; or when we chose. Most of us were eventually killed in a fight, but that was par for the course. I wasn't one of them. I just faded from the Physical Realm into the Low Etheric into my job as a 'Gate Keeper' because I knew how to do it. I was personally repulsed by violence, but that was just me! I was an odd one, here.

"Half a billion," said Stefan. "That's the ideal number on the Georgia Guidestones. The world would have been much closer to paradise if what was on those stones could have been the way life was, but so many condemned the message."

"Considering there were so many people over that half billion when those stones were erected, you could understand that...if only you weren't such a misanthrope," said Thanatos.

Stefan raised his teacup in a salute to Thanatos. "From what all I know and remember, how can I not be one; despite the fact all that was no longer has an effect on my existence."

"Other than clinging to your memories like a barnacle to a shipwreck." said Thanatos.

After emptying his cup, Stefan said, "You two are so different from me."

I said, "Makes for interesting times, no?"

"Donn, you coerced me into ghostwriting your autobiography; I have read it so many times, and I just can't see why something like you would put so much interest in a mere mortal brat."

"Can I make a confession to you?" I asked.

"Sure."

"It was your nose. I fell in love with your glorious nose."

"I knew it! So why don't you pet it more?"

I looked down, and shook my head. "Stefan, get off of it. You know the truth. Pragmatism pays no role in love. Granted, you drove me absolutely nuts sometimes, as I drove you to distraction as well, but what about you and Percy? How much did you unconditionally give of yourself to that cat, though I'm glad you did?"

"Cats are gods. And do you know how many times he got me to work on time when I forgot to set my alarm?"

I chuckled. "Dude! He had an ulterior motive, and he even TOLD you that! You were late with his food, but you two always did have one of the coolest inter-species relationships possible. Not much different from me and Hesper."

"Hesper is a divine pony," said Stefan. "There's nothing like him."

Hesper! The present to me from Thanatos! Conjured, not born. One of my best friends in eternity! The golden palomino beauty beyond perfection. My source of sanity in my later years on Earth!

Thanatos said, "And Percy is a divine cat. He's virtually made himself into a deity with your encouragement."

"I think the mental merging of that cat and our dear Andre had more to do with that that I," said Stefan.

(Andre had been adopted by us, and if you read my autobiography you can find out about him! He is quite a gentleman of French, Sudanese and Navajo, or rather ‘Diné’ ancestry. He will be with us forever, along with his wife; Tonya.)

Thanatos said, "Percy became a full time shape shifter because of Andre. He's fancied himself a god while he still lived on Earth from the way you spoiled him and managed to communicate with him. He truly was the head of household. It was more than you just joking about it."

Stefan shrugged. "Well, it did get to the point where he used to bite me when I didn't give him what he wanted. Glad he doesn't do that now."

I chuckled. "With those sabre fangs? So am I. That would get messy."

"Not that Percy ever bit me very hard. Just enough to let me know he wasn't happy with his underperforming slave." said Stefan. "I wish all people would recognise the intelligence and personal sovereignty of all animals."

"Huh! They don't even recognise the personal sovereignty of each other," said Thanatos.

"Tell me about it," said Stefan. "Ego strikes again, huh?"

"Aye." I said. "I've had enough of a problem myself, with ego.

"So have I," said Thanatos. "Remember what happened before I realised who I really was, and then right after I found out?"

"Hm hm."

Thanatos added, "So we are all the same. We came from the same place, and we're going to end up in that same place after we are done doing what we are doing before we get there. Just because some of us have separated further from Source than others doesn't make them any lesser. In fact, perhaps it makes them a bit braver."

Stefan smiled. "There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity."

"Why was I expecting you to say that?" I asked.

"Because you know me better than I know myself."

"No I don't," I said. "I just have a more detached perspective."

"My revulsion of the Physical Realm! I can't understand myself on why I was so drawn to it for so long. I can't stand the concept of polarity or duality. For me, it's Utopia and perfection, or bust. I have no clue on why I'm like that," said Stefan.

"Now I have a confession to make," said Thanatos. "Neither do I."

"I thought you knew everything," said Stefan.

"Except that, and why they call 'em tailors when they don't install tails."

Stefan chuckled. "Cut me off at the pass, huh?"

Thanatos stood up, reached over, and petted Stefan's nose. "Aye! No need to go into that pointless conversation again."

"But being telepaths, aren't all our conversations pointless, and just force of habit?" asked Stefan.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," said Thanatos.

The rains started coming down harder, and a light show was appearing in the West. "It's going to get hard to hear each other pretty soon, from the looks of it," I said.

"So we have three options," said Thanatos. "Go to the Akashic Library and find out why Stefan is so un-accepting about polarity and all, switch to nonverbal communication, or shut the fuck up as we enjoy a couple more gallons of this delicious tea with no despotic bladders to hold us hostage for service."

"But if we go to the Akashic Library and discover why I'm so un-accepting of polarity and all, then we couldn't continue to have all these pointless conversations rehashing the same thing over and over again in different ways; and we couldn't have that, could we?" asked Stefan.

"Oh, of course not," I said.

"Do I materialise a Bataca or a rolled up newspaper to swat you both with for that?" asked Thanatos.

Stefan stood up. "First you have to catch us!"

I was right behind him. "Yeah!"

Stefan and I took off as fast as we could, leaving our half empty cups and eternal teapot behind.

Thanatos cleaned up by dematerialising everything, and he went after us.

Of course, with Thanatos being a taller and faster runner; Stef and I lost the game of tag, but no; we didn't get swatted with newspaper or Bataca.

Gate Keepers just wanna have fun.

Thank You, My Book Of Shadows In The Attic

Gods, it was cold up here. Late January in Vancouver B.C. was a nippy time of year.

I had the house nice and toasty, but the heating vents were down below. There were none in the attic, though I'd turned said attic into quite a nice, immaculate, mystic retreat. I had an alter to my gods in the northwest corner, I had a table set up with a crystal ball and ouija board, though I couldn't scry worth a damn with the crystal ball. It was there for show, I had to admit.

There were only candles and lanterns up here for light. This was a place for me to escape the modern world. No electricity allowed. The attic had one small circular window that overlooked the magnificent front yard that was set about fifty metres from the street, and was saturated with trees. My stone house was surrounded with trees, and the front and south sides of it were covered in vines. It was a beautiful, faery tale mini-castle with fifteen rooms that I inherited. Though I'd made decent money in my working life, I could never have afforded this.

I was 58, and had retired last week. If I got bored, I might work part time later; but right now that was the last thing on my mind. At the moment I was on the black velvet couch I had the movers haul up here, under some blankets, with a tea pot and cup in front of me, along with my seven volume Book of Shadows that I'd spent the last forty years compiling.

I would have been pretentious to call myself a witch, though I dabbled in witchcraft a little bit. I occasionally did rituals that were closer to Santeria or Orisha, but they seemed to work. Sometimes I'd create my own. Those were in the books, but the books mostly contained my poetry, short stories, sudden insights, a few drawings and reflections of accomplishments.

Everything was on parchment paper. I'd bought the paper separately, and paid to have the pages bound when there were roughly three hundred of them. Needless to say, I was quite a creative writer. The covers were of black leather, and gilt in silver. Yes, I spent a lot of money on this, but it was my pride and joy. This compilation was my highest achievement in life, according to my own personal opinion. Others may have argued, but hey! It was my life, so only my opinion mattered on this matter.

It was raining outside, and the storm was electrical. I couldn't have asked for a better atmosphere. I'd just started reviewing volume one, and I was amazed at how much different I used to be. I was such a go-getter, with dreams of changing the world in my youth. Now I was a worn out, crotchety old lady who spurned that world I once wanted to change, and I didn't even want to see anyone anymore.

I had a sip of tea, and turned the page. It was a picture of two horses fighting. I stopped drawing in my early forties, but I used to be pretty good. I loved drawing animals, landscapes, and when I practised; I could do a pretty decent portrait in half an hour with pencil or charcoal. My favourite mediums were charcoal, pencil and ink. I'd done a few paintings, but that just wasn't my thing. I ended up dissatisfied with my end results, and gave them to people who actually appreciated my under par work.

The next page was my first poem. I'd written in analogy, to Count Dracula. He'd been my favourite fictional character at one time, and he had a few short stories written about him by me; along with a few portraits from my imagination, and they were quite attractive.

That infatuation was long dead. So was my past longing to be like him. Now I wondered how I could ever have wanted to be a vampire and live forever, though I still was a lover of the night, and a hater of the day.

I finished my tea, and poured myself another cup. It was creamed English breakfast tea with sugar. It would have been nice to have a peanut butter cookie, but I didn't feel like going downstairs to get them.

I was wearing my hooded robe. I'd never worn it in public. I never associated with a coven. It was a private issue of personal nature. Actually, I very rarely wore it. It was part of the paraphernalia I occasionally used to celebrate the major Pagan holidays alone, and for special occasions like now. The first day of my life review in the rereading of these volumes!

Before I could turn the page again, I heard a tapping on my window.

Needless to say, it alarmed me. There were no trees close enough to touch that window. I stared at it, not being able to make out what was hitting it. When the lightning struck again, I saw a crow pecking at the window.

The bird could break the glass. Dared I open it? But what would be the consequences?

I dragged myself off the couch, walked up to the window, and the crow actually shrieked, "Let me in! It's cold out here," in a voice from Hell.

I didn't hesitate. I didn't even think about doing anything but acquiescing to its plea. I opened the window, and it stepped through. "It took you long enough. I thought you liked animals."

I closed the window, though not after the wind had blown out three of my candles. "I do. I thought only ravens talked."

"Maybe I was raised by ravens, OK? Actually both crows and ravens can talk. Got any chow?"

I was having a sentient conversation with a bird who made me wish I could shoot myself every time it opened its mouth. Listening to their natural dialect afar is unpleasant enough, though I did like crows quite a bit; but to have one screaming at you in English from less than a metre away is a bit much. Still, I couldn't help but be impressed by what was happening. Totally blown away, really. "And what would you like?"

"Heated, buttered pumpernickel, Basmati rice pilaf, some fire-roasted marinated bell peppers, and maybe a few peeled grapes for dessert."

"You expect me to go down and cook you this?"

"Sure. Why not?" asked the crow.

"I don't have all that available. Peeled grapes. Is your name Mae West, by chance?"

"We don't name ourselves or each other. We just know who everyone is. It's so much easier, ya know? Now, about that food! What do you have?"

"Dark rye, yeah; I have butter, marinated Kalamata olives, canned lentils, and peaches imported from the southern hemisphere."

"Beggars can't be choosers. Can I ride to the kitchen on your shoulder?"

"Only if you promise not to make a mess on me, and if you don't say anything while you're six centimetres from my ear. I'm sorry, but your voice is quite grating."

"I'm far too much of a lady to make a mess on my transportation, but I'll oblige you by not talking to you when on your shoulder. Pick me up gently and set me down, for you don't want me to land on you from flight. I might hurt you, and I don't want to do that."

"OK." I picked her up, and did as she instructed. I kept me hand on her to help her balance, and she was careful not to dig her talons into me. We went downstairs, and the temperature change was quite welcome.

We went to the kitchen, and when I put her on the table, she asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Little bit. I can have some of what you want. You want to share a meal?"

"That would be nice. I know I'm the same gender as you, but isn't the concept a little romantic? Maybe light a candle on the table, too?"

I had to laugh. "Romantic? Lady, we are not even the same species? In fact, we aren't even in the same class. You're a bird, and I'm a mammal. Still, I think I'm falling in love with you."

"And?"

"I'll light the candle. What are you? Where are you from?"

"I'm a crow. You know that. As for where I'm from, I am not from Madagascar."

"Are you magic?" I asked as I went through the cupboards to get the bread, two plates, the olives, and lentils. I got the can opener from the draw, one peach and some butter from the refrigerator.

"No more, no less than you."

"What is happening now is not normal. It is not a daily occurrence. In fact, I'm not sure it has happened any time ever before."

The lady crow cocked her head. "You think you're the only one I ever talked to? You think you're that special or something?"

"In all my years, it's never happened to me before. From all I've read, what is happening now is impossible."

"You're a witch. You've done things some people consider impossible."

"I'm not a witch. I do some things that witches do, but I consider myself more of an C-rate, eclectic sorceress." I started preparing our food.

"Same difference! Whatever."

I put two slices of bread on the crow's plate, cut them up, buttered them, then put a fifth of the lentils on her plate. I heated that up, while cutting up the peach in small, bite size pieces. I put nine olives on her plate. “Is that enough?”

“Fine.”

"Want something to drink?"

"Orange juice?"

"Got that. Fresh squeezed, pasteurised."

"It'll do."

I gave the lady crow all she asked for, and heated up my own. While I was doing that, I went to the living room and got a candle for the kitchen table, which I lit right away. The crow actually waited until my food was ready and I was sitting down, before starting in on her own meal.

She ate delicately, and carefully. She left not one crumb on the table. When I looked at her, I thought she was absolutely beautiful. "Shall I order Chinese tomorrow?"

"I'd love that. What were you reading when I knocked on your window?"

"My Book of Shadows, from day one. I just retired, so I finally have time to review the writings of my life."

"Can I read it with you as I sit in your lap?"

I laughed. "You can read?"

"Of course?"

"My lap, huh? You know, for a bird; you strike me as being incredibly feline."

"Cats. I get along with some of them. I've been stalked by others, but never attacked. House cats don't generally attack things my size, and I don't get near the wildcats. I'm not that stupid."

"What do you want for bathroom use?"

"Dude, I know what a toilet is; and I even know how to flush."

"Are you a shape shifter, too?"

The crow finished the last of her meal. "What do you think?"

"It wouldn't surprise me."

She didn't answer my question. "Fine. Hurry up with your meal so you can get back to your book, but can we read it down here please? It's cold in the attic."

"I can't believe this, but yes. Have I just become a slave to a crow?"

"It beats being a slave to a person, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does."

*****

Over the next few weeks, the crow and I read my writings together. We became inseparable, and it was OK with her if I called her 'Sonya'. I didn't want to call her 'Crow'. She even slept with me. When I went shopping, she'd wait on top of the store, and fly to the car when I came out. It amused a lot of people who saw it.

Since her arrival, I was only cooking dinner once a week. The rest of the time I ordered home delivery, and I always gave her the choice, not that I had any problem with that, since we seemed to have dietary tastes in common. She loved what I liked for breakfast. Grits and farina were a favourite of mine, and that was a huge hit with her.

'Sonya' liked butter. I didn't think birds and dairy mixed, but she told me small amounts of some dairy products were OK, though she'd get the runs if she ate too much. Her grits and farina always had butter and maple syrup, as requested. Surprisingly to me, she also liked eggs, provided they were from any bird but a crow...or raven. She liked devilled eggs the best, and I was only too happy to oblige.

"Do you know how old you are?" I asked 'Sonya'.

"Eternal. I've been around forever. So have you. We all have."

"In the form you have now, I mean. I'm convinced you're a faery bird of sorts. I don't know why you chose me to hang with, but I wouldn't be surprised if you were a First Nation spirit bird."

"I'm from over the seas and far away. I'm not First Nation. I'm pre-history, from the land of your ancestors. I didn't give you my real name, because you know it; and you would have been afraid of me."

"You're Irish? Tuatha?"

"Yes, Deirdre."

I reached forward, and stroked her back. "I think I know who you are. Macha?"

"Darn tootin'."

I smiled. "And I couldn't be more honoured. Can you tell me what inspired this visit?"

Macha flew off the table to the floor, and changed form to a tall, red haired, green-eyed woman who make Jaclyn Smith look like a toad. "I wanted to read some of the greatest Pagan poetry of this century in the company of the author."

I had a big enough ego without the help of this war goddess who I had much admired from the legends about her, but I wasn't going to object. "Are you serious?"

"Don't let it get to your head too much. After all, I said this century. You're no Eddie de Vere."

"I watched and read all his plays, and some of his poetry. You like him too?" I asked.

"I watched his plays when they were performed when he was alive, and read them all; as well as all his poetry."

"So I was right in thinking he wrote and used William Shakespeare as a front."

"Aye. Now I have another reason I came here."

"Dare I ask?"

"When I tapped on your window...uh...first off, you are not really in your house and on your former world right now. That's illusory, thanks to me. You are dead to that world, killed by the intruders who robbed your house. I thought you were too good to be aware that sort of thing, so I took you to this parallel world on the low Etheric which is so much like yours the nano-second you were shot; and had a little bit of fun with you."

"I'm dead?

"Well, there really is no death; as you know."

"This was all so sweet of you. I can't believe you did this for me."

She smiled a matronly smile. "We take care of those who acknowledge us. Especially the artists! After all, what are we famous for?"

I shrugged. "Wild parties, extreme hedonism, and killing each other?"

Macha laughed. "Oh, we've done all that to a hilt. We did used to be quite over the top, but eventually you do have to grow up. Even the wildest warrior who ever existed."

"Shall we toast to that?" I thought now was a good time to share some of my vintage stashed wine.

Two glasses of Champaign appeared on the table. She picked both of them up, and gave one to me. We clanked glasses. "To us," she said.

"To us." I had a sip, and it was absolutely delicious. "Now what?"

"Now we can explore the after worlds, and you can pick and choose; because at the moment I have no idea where to put you."

"Will I ever see you again after?"

Macha winked at me, said, "All you have to do is give a mental beckon," and she finished her glass in one draught. "I'll come. Especially if you write more poetry."

I raised my glass, followed Macha's example of finishing what was left all at once, and said, "I can live with that."

"Though I don't know why you'd want to...live, that is."

"Bad choice of words, but I gotcha!"

The Price Of Irresponsibility

Mom's last words to me were, "I HATE YOU! I'VE HATED YOU FROM THE MOMENT YOU WERE BORN, YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE LEECH."

I in turn yelled, "AND I DIDN'T ASK TO BE BORN, YOU EQUALLY WORTHLESS, IRRESPONSIBLE SLUT!" right before I walked out the door and slammed it as hard as I could.

That was five days ago. Now I was freezing, starving, broke, filthy, and had no clue on how to live in the streets, but I was never going home again.

Man, what's a girl to do. I was 16, had a 3.8 average despite the abuse I got at home; I never turned to drugs or alcohol, and just struggled to make it as fast and easy to get away from that worthless bitch of a mother I had; and equally shitty, child molesting step-father.

Hell knows where the biological sire was. That was some dip-shit high school dropout who mom saw maybe for about two or three months, or so.

*****

I have found I was not welcome anywhere. You can't sleep on a park bench at night, you can't be on any doorsteps for very long, and the cops will tell you to move along in any place public. So where do you go? It's like it's illegal to exist if you're homeless.

I also had this ingrained psychological problem of not being able to ask for anything. If I were so bold on the home front, I generally got slapped; so panhandling was out of the question for me. Of course if someone had just volunteered to give me money I would have taken it, but that didn't happen.

I knew I was doomed. I was out of my territory. I was completely clueless, and from what I read; I wasn't going to trust anyone, either. I ended up going to a regional park. I managed some marginal cleanup in their bathroom, though the cold water was hard on me. I had DRINKING water from the fountains, and I knew you could eat dandelions, and stuff like that. I didn't really like this garden of nature, but hunger can make one tolerate that dislike a bit better. I hid myself away off one of the trails, and went to sleep there.

I missed being clean, warm, and fed. This was a nightmare, but my ego wouldn't let me go back home, if I even could go back home. I'd never know. Those last words to my mother was the only time in my life that I talked back to her, and after those words I wondered if she'd take a crowbar to me for what I'd said. It seemed so like her.

As I was curled up in my disgusting clothes and freezing my ass off, it suddenly dawned on me that I could have filed charges. I might have ended up in foster care, but was that such a bad thing?

Why do I always come up with the best solutions after it's too late? I'd be so brilliant if only it wasn't for time.

I wished it were July instead of early March. Damn, I was cold. I'm surprised I haven't died of exposure yet. And that damn wind…uh...smell. What was that? Garlic?

Was I experiencing an olfactory hallucination because I was so hungry? Not that the discomfort was so bad anymore, but I was feeling pretty weak. I must have lost four kilograms in the last five days, at least. I did have to pull the belt of my jeans in a couple of notches, so...

Suddenly I heard a faint sound. A flute, or something! The music sounded Scottish, or Irish or should I just say, Celtic? I couldn’t distinguish the different styles. No, I wasn't hallucinating. Somebody was nearby.

It was barely loud enough to make out, but make it out, I did. The music was gorgeous. Haunting, and prettier than anything I ever heard on the radio. And then, there was the smell again.

I couldn't help myself anymore. I dragged myself up, and followed the sound. Just before I got to my destination the music had stopped. I had walked about fifty metres, and found two men in a clearing, sitting around a campfire in a fire pit. They had a cast iron pot over it, and one was working on filling a bowl of soup. From the trail, I watched him give the filled bowl to his mate; then fill his own.

They were both clean-shaven longhairs, with both of them in jeans, work boots, and flannel shirts. They almost looked alike except for one had blond or light red hair, and the other's was white, along with his skin tone. The white one was taller, but their facial structures and traits were identical. Same wide eyes, high cheekbones, subtle chin-dimples, artistically attenuate eyebrows, thin lips, and Celtic noses with rounded tips! They were absolutely beautiful. The white one had strange eyes, though. They glowed red.

I'd snuck up on them, and decided I wasn't going to intrude. I think I was undetected. I'd just go back to where I came from, and hopefully curl up and die this night.

Well, I was wrong in thinking I'd been undetected. I just turned around to go, when the red head said, "Hail, lassie. Come and join us." That Scottish or Irish accent just melted me.

I took a step toward them. "Are you sure? I smell bad enough to scare a buzzard from a gut wagon. I can't even stand myself."

They both laughed, but the red haired one said, "It's OK. There's a hot spring not quite a half a kilometre down the trail to the right by the hill. It's about a metre deep. We have soap and spare clothes, though they'll be big for you. You can clean up after dinner."

"What if I'd rather clean up before dinner?"

The white one with the eerily glowing red eyes fished through a package at his side. He pulled what I thought was a dress, a belt, a towel, some skivvies, and a bar of soap out. "This here's a leine for you to wear. An old Irish tunic, and I hope you don't mind wearing men's underwear for the time. Sure you don't want a cup o' ‘tay’ first?" What beautiful voices these two had. The white one had a nice tenor, and the red haired one sounded like one of my favourite singers. Geddy Lee.

"Positive. I'm so dirty I just want to crawl out of myself, and if I wait just a little longer the food should taste so much better; no?"

The red haired one looked at the white one. "Can't argue with that logic." He turned to me. "Keep following the trail, and take the first side trail you come to by the rocky part of the hill to the right. You'll hear the water. It's not quite scalding. If you walk real fast, it shouldn't take you much more than five minutes to get there."

"OK."

I took the things, and followed the instructions. I couldn't believe it, but I actually did find the energy to walk fast. In fact, I felt kind of high and forgot about my hunger, and even the fact I'd been shivering like crazy just moments before.

Yes there was the side trail; and around the high grass, behind some trees and bushes; lo and behold, a bubbling pool. I'd never noticed the side trail before, and I didn't have a clue this pool of water was here. I guess I'd never paid enough attention on the times I walked this trail, which was strange. I thought I'd spent enough time here to know this park better than the rangers. I'd come here every chance I could to get away from my dysfunctional family.

I touched the water. Yeah, it was pretty hot. I suddenly became aware of the fact it was cold again, and so was I. I stripped quickly, and lowered myself into the water. It came up to my hips, and the bottom of the pool felt like it was covered with smooth flat rocks.

I couldn't believe I'd placed my trust and life into those two strangers. I could have been followed and raped and killed, but that didn't happen. They even went to tell me the depth of the pool. I think I was becoming infatuated. They were so cute, and treated me so well. What a concept. Not to mention those accents. Oo-la-la!

The soap was clear glycerin. Environmentally friendly, I guess. I washed my hair first, and the rest of me last. The pool was pretty volatile. I could feel some jet streams here and there. I guess the water was being continuously, naturally filtered. When I got out, I don't think I ever felt so refreshed. I also got overheated in that water, so it was nice coming into the ten degree Celsius air. I dried off, dressed in the dude skivvies, the leine, which I still thought of as a dress, and my shoes. I belted the 'dress' so it went to mid calf. I almost ran back. I was again becoming aware of my hunger.

When I got back to the campfire, I found they'd set a sleeping bag for me to sit on, and the moment I sat down, the red head threw a blanket around my back, and the white one handed me a bowl of vegetable soup with a hunk of bread soaking in it.

Damn, it was good. Corn, peas, tomatoes, red bell peppers, garlic, leeks, carrots, potatoes, spinach and turnips! It was well seasoned. It had a lot of garlic powder in it, and every once in a while I'd get a piece of crushed peppercorn, and that was nice. I liked my black pepper smashed instead of ground up into that fine dust that all the restaurants had.

The bread had poppy seeds, caraway seeds, sesame seeds, green onion and garlic pieces baked into it. A lot of butter was baked in too, and you could taste it. The tea was East Indian chai. It was sweetened with honey, and it had cream, ghee and a cinnamon stick in it. After I finished my second bowl of soup and my third hunk of bread, my red haired host asked me, "So, what brings you here?"

"I had my first and only fight with the abusive bitch that was my mother. I don't ever want to go home again, even if I can."

The white one said, "I bet we can make a liar out of her." I looked into his eyes. So strange, but I just couldn't question them. So exotic, and so beautiful! His canine teeth were unusually long, too. Both upper and lower! I just couldn't bring myself to ask about his unique attributes. He just couldn't be any other way.

The red haired one said, "If I were to bet against you, I'd lose."

I scowled. "I'm NEVER going home again."

The white one chuckled. "Oh, not to stay; my dear. Not to stay at all. You'd only want to be there for a moment. It would be enough. A revenge thing, you know? By the way, I'm Keith Munster, and this is Vergil Xanon."

My heart fluttered when he called me 'my dear'. "I'm Kimberly Johnstone. I just go as Kim. Revenge? What are you talking about?"

"We have major issues with child abuse. We've seen a lot of it, and it's one of our triggers. It upsets us, and if we can do something about it; we do."

"And what do you suggest?" I asked.

Vergil asked Keith, "Does your mom still have those killer clothes from when she was a young woman, in the closet?"

"Oh, yeah. And what about your so-called girlfriend? Can Kim borrow some of her accessories?"

Girlfriend? Oh, no. On the other hand he said, 'so-called girlfriend'. Maybe I had hope after all.

"Macha? Oh, for this, there would be no problem. In fact, shall the three of us go home? I think we've had our little fun for the night."

"I thought we were going to have a two day camping trip," said Keith.

"I think Kim's arrival has called for a change of plans."

I said, "Sure. I mean, if you were going to plaster me; you would have done so already, right?"

"We have no such intent, lass," said Vergil. "Sure, let's clean this mess up, and go."

They put out the fire, threw all the utensils in the now empty cooking pot, Keith picked up the pot, Vergil picked up the bag of clothes and grooming supplies, threw my messed up clothes in, and off we were. There was nothing left for me to carry.

We walked about two kilometres, and got to the road. My lower jaw dropped when Keith opened up the back of a Mercedes-Benz G500 Sport Utility. "My God! How could you afford this?"

"Rich family," said Keith. "She's paid for. Also had her converted to bio-diesel, if you don't mind the smell of cooking oil."

"Not at all."

"Want the back or front seat?" asked Vergil.

I giggled. "I think I'll take the back, and pretend I'm upper-class."

Keith opened the front door, unlocked all the doors, got in; and Vergil held the back door open for me. "And why would you be anything less?" asked Vergil.

"Oh, you have no idea. My family is pretty poor. Pretty stupid, too. No money, and I have three brothers and two sisters. I'm the oldest, so you can only imagine," I said.

"Thank the gods imagine is all we have to do," said Keith. "And class has nothing to do with how much money you have. Class is a matter of how you live. What you are. How you treat others."

"Tell me about it," said Vergil.

Keith pulled out of the side street, headed to the main drag; and turned south. He then pulled east by the Masonic Lodge, and in no time we came to a vast, gated, three-storey estate with a huge oval driveway that had a fountain in the middle. The mansion must have been set a hundred metres back from the road. I was blown away.

Keith pulled the car under a carport, and turning to me; he said, "I'll pull her into the garage later. Now, let's just go in and have some more tea or something. Or if you have room, would you like some tea and scones?"

"Scones? I never had one. What are they?" I asked.

"A Scottish pastry. Last I saw, we had peach, cherry, currant and apple-hazelnut," said Keith

"Sounds good. I think I can handle one."

We got out of the SUV, and walked up the ornate walkway to the covered, columned porch. Keith opened the huge doors, and we walked into a foyer with marble floors, and an intricate chandelier.

The marble floors never ended. I was astounded. "How big is this place?"

Keith said, "Mom says it's 77 rooms. I never cared to verify, and I don't know if that includes the basement. I'll have to ask one day."

"What's in the basement?" I asked.

"It's where we play," said Vergil. "Dungeons and Dragon with us acting out the characters, when we don't mind cleaning up we'll play paintball in some parts of it, there's a pool table, a bowling alley, a racquetball court, ping pong table, a movie room, a few lounges, and the séance room, among other things."

"Séance room? Can I see that later?" I loved stuff like that. I was addicted to horror movies, life after death books, and was fascinated by the occult.

"Sure. How about after tea?" asked Keith. The kitchen is just ahead."

"OK."

The kitchen. The oven was huge, the refrigerator/freezer had an icemaker and cold-water dispenser, the sink was partitioned in two, and had a hot water dispenser, there was no microwave oven, and no automatic dishwasher, but there was a dish rack; which I wasn't expecting. There was also a huge cauldron hanging over a fire pit in the kitchen, with a fan over it. "What a trip," I said as I looked at the cauldron. "Cook anybody in it lately?"

Keith said nonchalantly, as he got a teakettle from the cupboard, "We don't do that very often. The law tends to frown on that in this country."

Vergil about hit the floor with laughter after he saw my expression. "Ye gods, Kim. He's kidding. If you ask questions like that, you're going to get answers; you know?"

I had to admit I deserved it, and I also had to admit I was relieved. "I'll have to remember that."

"This is a vegetarian household, after all," said Keith. He filled up the teakettle, and put it on to boil.

Vergil set three cups and saucers out for us. Vergil also got us out a platter of scones from the refrigerator. He said, "Keith, I think Earl Grey is the best for this."

"I agree. Kim, I'd try that unsweetened first. Sugar or honey ruins the bergamot. Cream is good, though."

"OK," I said.

The scones were great. I had three of them. An apple-hazelnut, a peach and a cherry! I swear I could have eaten more, but I didn't want to seem like too much of a pig. We had a killer conversation over the tea on what assholes my parents were, and before that conversation was over, I was totally, completely, all the way head over heels for both of them. Of course, being quite aware that I was jailbait, I would make no moves, and they certainly didn't seem interested in me like that, so I guess that was OK...kinda, sorta, frustratingly, vaguely.

Damn hormones.

Anyway, next we walked toward the séance room; though after I saw the library through open doors, we just had to stop there. I was a book fiend. My parents couldn't afford to buy a computer, web surfing at public places was limited, so I; being quite interested in educating myself to the fullest, found myself spending as much time with my nose in books as life would allow. With the younger siblings to help tend, there wasn't anywhere near the time I wanted, but hey. Maybe now that could change? If I could stay with these two, like they'd led me to believe?

No fiction. History, philosophy, biographies, metaphysics, art, poetry, atlases, mythology, mathematical theory, and all kinds of stuff! I was in heaven. Keith said, "This isn't the only library in the house. We have another room dedicated to the classic novels, like Dickens and Hugo, and another one dedicated to the modern writers, including some more frivolous works that are just simple entertainment."

"I love this place," I said.

"It's better than your average pad," said Vergil. "On the other hand, I consider it more of a museum, and if I had to take care of it, I wouldn't want it. There's better ways to spend money than maintaining such a behemoth, and after the novelty fades; most things are dust collectors. By the way, you want one of the spare bedrooms on the second or third floor?"

"Third."

"OK. We'll take care of that later." There's two ways to get to the basement. Here's one," continued Vergil. Again, the doors were gargantuan. He opened them, turned on the light, and a spiral staircase led down to the basement. The halls were long, and the rooms were huge. They showed me those game rooms dedicated to a single sport, lounges, the movie room with a huge, theatrical flat screen TV, a dance room, a pool, a skating rink, and I had to ask, "Does the basement cover more square metres than the first floor?"

"Pretty good observation. Yes it does," said Keith. "Nice for you to think in metric. Rare in an American."

"It makes more sense and I like being weird and standing out," I said.

When we finally got to the séance room, it had a black marble floor, black marble walls, an obsidian fountain against the far wall with Greco-Roman columns and the water coming from a dragon's mouth, who was sitting on a small ledge in the centre of the fountain. There was an alter with black, red and white candles, incense, an athame, a crystal ball, a mortar and pestle, and there was a wall of whole spices in jars. There was an ouija table, a couch, and a white pentagram was inlaid in the floor in the direction of the white witch with the top point forward.

I was amazed. "Wow. And I can stay with you guys?"

"For as long as you like," said Keith.

"And what was this thing on revenge against my parents? What did you have in mind?"

"How about you dress up real fancy, and go back to collect your things?"

I looked down at my borrowed leine. "I suppose so, but I don't like wearing dresses."

Vergil crossed his arms. "It's not a dress. It's a leine, and in the old days everybody wore them. The men often belted them a little higher off the ground, but don't consider yourself emasculated for wearing this. It's mine. I still occasionally wear them."

I must have turned as red as a beet. It was like he'd read my thoughts to the letter. "OK. Sorry."

Vergil then smiled. "We'll see if we can find something for you. We didn't throw our clothes away if they were still good, so somewhere in the closets there should be something to your taste. As for tonight, if you like you can sleep in that. Now, what size are you?"

"I wear 14 in shirts, and 26 in pants in the American measurements that I'm too pretentious to use."

Keith narrowed his eyes, and gave me the 'thumbs up' signal with a sardonic smile. He looked at Vergil. "I like this one. She's funny."

"Considering all she's been through, she is indeed. That sense of humour helped salvage her, no doubt." Vergil turned to me. "It's pretty late. Maybe we should all go to bed now."

"I'm pretty excited, but I think I can manage to get to sleep," I said.

We went to the other staircase to get to the first floor, being it was closer to us. This one went straight up, as opposed to being spiral. It came out right at the other set of stairs that went to the top floor. Vergil said, "We sleep on the second floor. You can take the bedroom directly to the left when you get to the top floor. It's open, and you can lock it from the inside. Consider it yours. There is a fully stocked bathroom two doors down on your side."

"Thanks."

*****

Canopy bed with curtains that could be fully shut, satin sheets, fluffy pillows, an electric blanket, a gas fireplace at the wall facing the foot of the bed, and four of bottles of unopened perfume on the dresser, along with a brush and comb.

I looked at the perfumes. Jasmine, rose, musk, and sandalwood! I liked them all. I could barely decide, but in the end I chose to spray the bedding with rose before hitting it. I both lit the fireplace, and turned on the blanket. I figured it was OK, and believe you me, I slept in the raw! I wasn't going to mess up my first night on satin sheets by wearing anything while doing so. I wasn't that stupid.

I just wish I had both Keith and Vergil in bed with me, but I knew that wasn't going to happen. Not in real life, anyway.

Thank God for dreams.

*****

The next morning, I not only got to pick outer clothes, but there were some packages of unused skivvies in the draws I got to choose from, as well as socks. For outer clothes, I ended up wearing a satin pirate shirt with poofy sleeves, a pair of satin knickers, and a pair of riding boots that fit me to the hilt.

They let me explore the house, staying with me so I wouldn't get lost. There were lots of paintings of them in the halls. In all of Vergil's he was always dressed the same. A wrap-around black silk tunic held together with a belt that had an omega clasp, a pair of black leotards, and knee-high boots, also black. There was one nice one of Keith where he was in boots and a loincloth, having a sword fight with a muscular, scantily clad red headed woman. I liked that one. Keith was really ripped, though he wasn't stocky. Wiry, I think the word is. And Vergil was the artist who'd painted them all.

"Who's the red head lady?" I asked.

"Macha. Vergil's biggest pain in the butt, in the past! She used to beat me up all the time," said Keith.

I scowled. "What?

"Well, not like pummel me black and blue. It just took me forever to tie her in a sword fight. She was my combat trainer. I still can't beat her, but she can't win the contests anymore, either. Hence, we don't spar anymore."

"Damn," I said. "And who's the foxy guy in the quasi-Dracula outfits with the nose?"

Vergil smiled. "My dearest Stefan. A real nutter! I think you're going to love him after you meet him. Provided you don't mind his life seems to mostly revolve around his nose."

I just couldn't resist. "Planets might revolve around that nose."

"That would be quite a compliment for him. We ought to run across each other in the next few weeks. He's hilarious," said Vergil.

Keith looked at Vergil. "I think we ought to give Kim your book to read after she gets her stuff."

"I agree."

My eyebrows went up. "You wrote a book?"

Vergil sighed. "Aye. It's not all mine, but mostly. It's a ten volume series, and the last two are poetry. I didn't write all the poems, and Warren Colfax helped edit the one about him."

"So you write books as well as paint?!" Yes, I was impressed.

"Yes, but they’re hardly up there with the classics. They’re almost like the diaries of my day to day activities, so I did end up repeating a lot of expressions and things we do."

I just had to smile. "I am so astounded. Can I ask how old you are?"

"I'm out of time. We all are, so you can ask but I can't answer," said Vergil.

"Can't, or won't?" I asked.

"Yes. Now how about breakfast?"

"Sure. What's it going to be?" I asked.

"Let me take care of that," said Keith.

Devilled eggs, English muffins, butter, fresh squeezed orange juice, hash browns, grits, real maple syrup, and blueberry waffles. I had a little of everything, despite the fact I wasn't hungry. I didn't get full either. It was like I was in the same state before and after I ate.

I had to ask. "You do so much for me. What can I do for you?"

Vergil scowled at me. "You do know what the word unconditional means, don't you?"

"Yes. No strings attached, basically."

"You have nothing we need or want anyway...except for your company."

Keith said, "That's wrong." He looked at me. "Just become the best that you can be. That's all we ask. But that seems to be in your innate nature, anyway; so..."

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Dead serious. Here, you can concentrate purely on self-development."

"This is a dream come true."

*****

A dream come true, indeed! I never had better food, I got to read about things I never heard of before, I got taught all kinds of historical facts; and it's like I didn't forget anything that I learned anymore, either. One thing, though! For now, Vergil refused to let me see the book that he wrote; that I wanted to read so badly. He said that I had to go to my old house first, and that was that. I also noted I never saw anybody else in the house but Vergil and Keith, but it was always so clean.

I had killer clothes available to me, that canopy bed, my own bathroom that never seemed to get dirty, and I was even informed there were horses on the grounds that I could ride later, who were all trained on voice command. It was a whole new world, and I couldn't imagine life could be so good.

I lost track of time, but after a while; Keith said, "I think it's time to get your other things from where you used to live."

For some strange reason, Vergil covered his mouth and tried very hard not to laugh.

"OK," I said.

"I think you should dress in your own clothes for that." Keith was smiling, and he had a devious look to his face.

"So you don't want me to dress fancy?"

"No. And when we get back, you will have Vergil's book available to you. Some things just have to be done in their correct sequence."

"I'd love that," I said with a smile.

"I'm sure you will. Now let's get ready."

*****

I sat in the back again, and for some strange reason Vergil was having a hard time trying to control his laughter. When I asked about it, he just said, "You'll find out soon enough, Kim. Soon enough."

It didn't take long for Keith to pull in front of my parent's house. Well, actually it was a run down, rented house, but hey. "Will one of you come with me?" I asked.

"Considering Vergil can't get over his private joke that he refuses to share with us, I think that better be me," said Keith.

"I want to watch," said Vergil, not quite doubled over.

"Be my guest," said Keith.

*****

The three of us got out of the car, and Vergil was almost staggering. Keith stood behind me, and I knocked on the door. My mother had answered, and when she saw me her eyes went wide; and she screamed like someone had just knifed her.

My father and oldest brother and sister came to the door, too. They screamed just as loud, and my father slammed the door shut.

Needless to say, I was as confused as hell.

Vergil actually fell to his knees, he was laughing so hard.

"OK!" I said. "What is going on?"

Keith took my hand, and led me back to Vergil. He put his other hand on Vergil's head, and suddenly we were somewhere else. Not at the house, but in a castle with torch lit walls. "Kim, according to them you have been gone for two weeks. You are dead to the world. What they saw is a simulacrum of what is lying in the grass in the park. It was like Night Of The Living Dead, come to life. And as you noted, I have fangs and glowing eyes. I silently snarled at them when they saw me. Vergil...or Donn as his real name is, knew what was going to happen; and he was just beside himself, not able to control himself over the humourous aspect of the situation. Also, my real name is Thanatos.

"We have never done anything like this before, and now you can read about what you'll be existing with until you no longer want to." A ten-volume set of black, leather bound, silver gilt books appeared in his arms. "And we'll sit with you as you read them, and as you so long for; yes you can rest your head in my lap while you're in the process. As for the further intimacy you crave, you will not get what you envision; but something much better; later."

I've never taken drugs in my entire life, but I now felt like I took the strongest euphoriant there was.

And that 'later' mindshare that I'd get with them would be even better than that.

I would never leave them. And I grew to love their housemates who I didn't meet until after I read the book, just as much.

Eventually, I would become a Gate Keeper myself.

The Path To Off The Edge Of The World

Ahhhhhhhh. My retirement house was finally ready. Damn it was hard, but I did it. I got a ten-acre estate four kilometres north of Dún Chaoin, Ireland. The land originally had an old one- room cottage on it with an outhouse, but I had a three story Victorian style house built for my more hedonistic tastes. The land had a nice well, and I had two windmills put up for power. The royalties from my books paid for it all.

No, I wasn't a novelist. I was a painter. Lara Crisanto was the name, and sci-fi/phantasy was the game. I put Boris Vallejo to shame with my skills, and I'd made a fortune with book covers, selling prints and books of my prints. I even sold a few originals, and those went for tens of thousands of Euros.

I was now 76, and I rarely painted anymore.

I had a hell of a time getting the OK to move here, but I managed to buy my way in. Immigrating to Ireland wasn't easy these days. I was situated on a low rise, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. There was an ancient stone stairway going down to what was left of a mouldering dock meant for small boats. It was nice, but I wasn't planning on going down to it much, being it was a bit strenuous for me to haul my fat ass up those stairs again. I'd gone down twice, once alone, and once with Maggie. The stairs were scary, with no protective rail, and if you stepped on them wrong; some rocks might be dislodged. I weighed about a hundred fifty kilograms, and I just wasn't up to it in my old age. Yeah, I really started packing on the lard after the money came in. I was NOT a creature of moderation. Looking at me now, it was hard to believe I was a gorgeous, svelte 53 kilograms until my early thirties.

I'd put my trust in Maggie Callahan to oversee the building of the house, and act as steward. She'd been working for me for a while, had done a good job, and I'd paid her well. She was now driving us to 'our' home, for she'd stay on to help take care of the place. I'd put a notice to hire two housekeepers in a few days. Maggie has been working for me for the past three years as an all around assistant. In jest, she called herself my slave, though she seemed to enjoy her work. She was certainly enthusiastic enough, and I'd made no unreasonable demands of her; though I was sorry she had to put up with so many international flights to run my errands. She said she didn't mind, however. I personally hated flying, and I considered myself lucky she didn't share my aversion.

I didn't drive anymore. My reflexes and attitude just weren't up to it. If I had been at the wheel, we'd be going half the speed limit.

Maggie drove us up to the gate, parked, and we got out of the car. It was a bit of a walk up the path to the house, but I could still manage that with no complaints. Up the nine steps to the verandah we went, and when I saw what Maggie had overseen; I knew I'd hired the right girl. My paintings decorated the halls, and all the rooms but the kitchen and bathrooms. My personal favourites were in my bedroom. I'd ordered the furniture, and Maggie had done an awesome job with the interior decorating.

The first thing Maggie did was set me down in the kitchen for us to have some tea and crumpets. "You did a wonderful job, Maggie. I think I'll give you a bonus."

"Lara, I get free room and board, and half the money you give me is cash. You don't have to give me anything over my salary."

I smiled at her. "You know, I don't pay any taxes here. It's a nice change, and you work so much harder than you have to."

"It's a matter of honour. I almost feel I'm under geis."

"Understood. And I don't exploit people who work for me. Only those who buy my art...but that's their decision."

Maggie laughed. "It is very good, and I'm glad I don't have to buy it to see it. It's a treasure having it on so many walls in this house."

"And well placed the pictures are. Did you hang them?"

"Oh no. I just directed them. Ryan Joyce put them up."

"That young black haired man?" I asked.

"That's the one. An honest traveler! He did a lot around here. He's long gone, though."

"Pity. I might have taken him on as a groundskeeper."

"I wouldn't have argued. He was a handsome laddie."

"That he was. What's the attic like?"

Maggie's eyes lit up. "Immaculate, and it might as well be a fourth floor. It's nice when it's raining with the sound hitting the roof direct. I think the atmosphere is good for séances."

I chuckled. "A woman after my own heart. Perhaps one day we'll have one." I had a strong interest in metaphysics.

"I like how you have the turret rooms overlooking the sea. You ought to have been an architect, from the way you designed this place."

"I suppose I am," I said. "It's just that I do it in two dimensions, not three."

"I see your point, and you do it very well."

"Thank you my dear. You made a good selection with these blueberry crumpets. They're very good."

We talked a while longer, and then we went to the third floor turret room.

I looked out the window, and went into shock. "What is that going out over the water?"

Maggie was just as stunned as I. "My God, it looks like someone built a deck out over the ocean; and it goes on forever."

"So I'm not seeing things?"

"Not unless we're having a shared hallucination. Should we go down the steps on the cliff?" asked Maggie

"It's kind of dangerous. You have to be careful where you step. They're pretty worn. I can do it, but I’d rather not."

“I can go alone.”

"I understand. I'm not what I used to be. A fat old waddler who can't get out of her own way! Can you go down and tell me what you see?"

"Hm hm. This is very strange. Yesterday afternoon, this wasn't here. You can't build something like this overnight. Let me go now."

"All right. Thank you."

Maggie left me, and I was beside myself with curiosity.

*****

My distance vision still sharp! I needed glasses to read, but I could see Maggie out on that elongated deck when she waved at me with both arms as clear as day.

This was beyond strange. I was awed, though I wondered if I should be frightened.

Then again, this was Ireland. The enchanted isle! I also knew I probably wouldn't last too much longer with my high blood pressure and heart problems which I was ignoring, so hey! I wasn't afraid of dying, and I wasn't going to deprive myself in order to live longer. I was going to do what I wanted to do, come Hell or high water.

Maggie came running back. She even ran up those stone stairs, which I’d warned her of, as if she didn’t know better, and didn't stop until she got to me. It wasn't far, there had only been perhaps 30 or so of those stairs, but I had to wait until she caught her breath.

She was shaking her head. "The deck is about four metres wide, and it seems to go on forever. The wood is varnished, the way down looks like it was carved out yesterday, and there is a metal railing on the outside of the stairs now. This couldn't be. I think this is the work of the Sidhe."

"The Faery Folk? Does this mean they like me?" I asked with a smile.

"I'd be careful. You never know what motivates them. I'm not sure they'd hold your nationality against you, but I'd watch it if I were you."

I knew about the Irish past. "I may have been born in Rome, but I had no part of the destruction of the ancient culture or religious conversion of this place. I was obviously born too late, and though raised a Catholic; I now go with the old gods. I even call them by their Greek names. You know that."

Maggie laughed. "Indeed I do. I'm glad my parents were more Pagan than Catholic, though Catholic is what they called themselves."

"Well, now since there's a side rail, I guess I can manage to go down and haul myself up again without going overboard."

"I'll go with you."

I just couldn't resist the sarcasm. "Worried about me or your salary?"

She looked me square in the eye. "Yes."

"You know you get this place when I die."

Maggie tilted her head, and struggled not to laugh as she took my hand. "OK, then never mind. You can go down alone." Obviously a sarcastic retort, since when I took her hand, she led me toward the stairwell.

"Sure."

"Lara, I love you; and I want you around for as long as possible. You're like a grandmother to me who's always spoiled me rotten."

We stopped, and embraced. "And you're the granddaughter I never had. I love you too. I've never had such a devoted helper," I said.

We then separated, and started going back to the cliff. "I hope you live as long as I do."

"Isn't the Irish blessing, 'May you live as long as you want?'"

"Technically, but I can't imagine life without you any more."

"Then if we die together, do you mind if it's in the next five or six years, as opposed to the next forty or fifty; 'cause I don't see myself living much longer than that, if even that."

"Let's talk about that later," said Maggie as we reached the stairs. She went down ahead of me, and acted as a guard to keep me from falling, though with me outweighing her close to three times, I probably would have taken her with me if I fell.

When we got to the old deck, it had been fully repaired, and the wooden walkway may as well have been an indoor bridge from the smooth finish of the wood. "Wow!" I just had to say. My time in the United States was rubbing off on me.

"Nice, huh?"

"Wonder how long it is. I can't see the end from up the cliff, so it's more than six kilometres out."

"One day I'll take a bicycle out on it," said Maggie. "It has to end somewhere, though I won't ride out for more than two hours. If I don't see the end then, then maybe it does go on forever. It might lead to the Faery Realm, though. If that is the case, I might not be able to come back."

"Then let's leave well enough alone for now, shall we?"

"I'm not going to argue."

We went back to the house.

*****

It was the end of our first week here. It was damp and chilly, late that night. I had the heat turned up, and the living room fireplace going, but I had a desire to sit on the verandah for a little while with a cup of tea. Enjoy the almost mystical fog that had dropped upon us. Of course Maggie joined me, and she brought out two chairs, a small table, and a whole pot of creamed tea with honey. I sat in front of the open door, so I could feel some heat from the house, though the lights had been turned off for now, as to not interfere with the darkness of night.

Before either one of us finished our first cup of tea half way, we had to put the cups down. Four riders came across the property, and raced to the stairs by the cliff. They didn't slow, but even ran the horses down the stairs. I was dismayed at the idea of risking the animals, but I couldn't have stopped them.

Maggie ran to the cliff's edge. When she came back a bit later, she said, "They ran their horses down that long deck. They never slowed. I waited until they were out of sight. I didn't know a horse could run so fast for so long."

One of the horses had been white, but the others; we couldn't tell with no light. The riders were in ancient Irish dress. Leines and brats! "A Sidhe horse can probably run forever," I said.

"Are we haunted? Did you buy some sacred land that has been claimed by the Otherworld?"

"I know less than you. You were born here. This is your culture."

Maggie shrugged as she had a sip of her tea, which was closer to warm than hot, by now. "This sort of thing doesn't happen every day. In fact, I've never seen anything like this; nor has anyone I know."

"Think the riders will be back?"

"I have no idea. I assume we'll sit out here tomorrow to see, at the same time."

*****

They came back. We sat out every night, and they came by like clockwork. "Let's meet them tomorrow. Let's stand by the stairs," I suggested.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Like Hell, I don’t. Let's do it."

"What if they're like ghosts, and don't even see us?" asked Maggie.

"What if they're solid, like you and me?" I asked.

"They're so beautiful. One of them was a woman, I think."

"Beautiful from a distance. The horses sure are a work of art."

"Tell me about it."

*****

They saw us. They stopped. Yes, there was a woman. A statuesque redhead who most men wouldn't want to anger, from the looks of her! The three men were absolutely gorgeous, despite one of them having a nose that was probably longer than the mysterious deck. The one with the nose was a pretty redhead, there was a young man with blond-red hair, and another who was a taller version of the blond-red who was all white, and his eyes glowed neon-red. He rode the white horse, and the white horse's eyes glowed red light, as well. The other horses looked normal. The blond-red rode a very golden palomino, and the other two horses were grey. The moon was full tonight, and we could actually distinguish the colours...barely.

The blond-red man said, "Sorry ter (to) trespass on yisser (your) lan' (land), but dis (this) is our way 'um (home)." He made no attempt to Anglicise his dialect, but I could understand it. I'd spent enough time here, though I spoke conventional English only.

I spoke a lot of languages. Living in Europe, it really is a requirement. Of course Italian was my first language, and I spoke fluent Spanish, Portuguese, French, English, and I could get the point across in German, though sometimes it took me a little while. I said, "It's OK. You're welcome here any time. In fact, would you like to come by for a cup of tea?"

"Nigh (Now) is not a convenient time for us ter stop, but wan (one) day maybe."

"How long is this deck?" asked Maggie. I wish I'd asked that.

The man said, "It goes oyt (out) aboyt (about) fifteen kilometers before it 'its (hits) me 'um. You're failte (welcome) ter stop by anytime. Oi (I) keep de gates open."

"Can you tell us who you are?" I asked.

The man with the nose said, "Oi'm Stefan."

The white man of the glowing eyes said, "De (The) kip (rest) av (of) us 'ill tell yer lay-ra (later). We 'av (have) ter go nigh," and they took off. The horses raced down the stairs like they weren't even there. We watched them take off down the deck from the cliff top.

Maggie looked at me. "They're Sidhe, all right. Too pretty to be mortal, even if his eyes didn't glow! Same for his horse."

"You smitten with the white?"

"A wee bit. How could I not be?"

I chuckled. "But the lady rode next to him. They're probably matched."

"On the other hand, they're Irish," said Maggie. "You've read the legends."

I had to laugh. "Indeed I have. So you do have a chance, but will there be a price?"

"Isn't there always?"

"The White’s virtual twin invited us over."

"They’re probably thousands of years old," said Maggie as we started walking back to the house.

"Fifteen kilometres. I used to be able to walk that with no difficulty. I wonder if I still can?"

"I can walk that in under three hours if I'm feeling chipper that day."

"The way I am now, I might be able to walk it in half a day."

"We could get a wheelchair," suggested Maggie.

"That would be a wise thing to do, but you know something?"

"You're going to say you'll walk, and we're going tomorrow."

I had to smile. "Damn right, lady. If the weather permits! You know me as well as I know myself."

As we walked up the stairs to the verandah, Maggie said, "I'm looking up the weather report on the computer as soon as we get inside.

The weather was permitting.

*****

I could hardly wait for the day's adventure. Maggie carried a backpack with two large bottles of water, two sandwiches, two apples, and two rolls of toilet paper. I grabbed my cane, which I rarely used, and we were off.

I was feeling chipper. My excitement gave me extra energy, and it may as well have been a drug.

Of course the going was still on the slow side. I was a rather enormous woman, after all; in addition to my advanced age.

"I don't think we're going back to the house again if we get to that young man's place," said Maggie after a bit. "Ever."

"I don't think so, either. I have a confession to make."

"If you did think we were going back, you wouldn't be going out in the first place?"

"Uh huh. I know damn well I can't make a thirty-kilometre walk. When the Sidhe invite you anywhere they tend to keep you."

"For a while. Sometimes a long while! Sometimes forever."

"And they live a good life, from the legends. The party never stops."

"But you don't want to upset them," said Maggie. "They can be quite mean, if you do!"

"I don't think we will." We'd been walking a while. We could barely see where we left off from. I looked ahead, and it seemed I saw something sticking up from the water. "Look."

Maggie put her hand over her eyes. "Some mound thing sticking up from the water. A hill or a mountain?"

"That's what I see. So there really is something out there."

"The water is pretty calm. We're awfully close to it, but this deck has never had a wave hit it, from what I've seen. That's not normal."

"Neither is the deck. I wonder if we're even still in our own world?"

Maggie looked back. "Maybe. I can barely still see your house on the rise. How are you feeling?"

"Better than I have in the last twenty years. How long have we been walking?"

Maggie looked at her watch. "About two hours."

"I wonder when we'll be halfway there?"

"No telling. I think we're about a third of the way there now."

We walked in silence for a while. Whatever was ahead of us was coming more into view. It was long, and it had quite a few hills. The south end of it was flat, and I thought I saw what looked like a tower, or something.

It was a tower. I looked back, and all I saw was water. The sun was past its high point, and its glare was now a bother. "I wish I was younger. We could have been there already."

"It's all right. I'm getting kind of hungry, though. Shall we have our lunch?"

"I think so. Maybe we ought to have it on the walk. If I sit down on this deck, I'm not sure I'll be able to stand up again on my own; and considering what a whale I've become, it would take Mr. Universe to get me to my feet."

Maggie chuckled. "But you had fun getting there, and you had every right." She took off her backpack and gave me my sandwich with a bottle of water.

I unwrapped the sandwich, and had a bite. It was a thin slice of pork with lettuce and a tomato slice. It was quite tasty. "And I'm really at an age to care, not that I ever cared enough to do anything about it. After all, I made my living with my skills as a painter, not with my looks."

"You were quite a beauty in your younger days, though."

"I suppose I was. Enough of a beauty to get me married to a total jerk. The French men aren't any better than the Italians. I'm just glad I got a divorce before I started making the money. They marry you, and they think they own you. Heh! Not this signora. After the tenth time of me throwing just about everything in the house at him, he was pleading for me to let him go, while still trying to boss me around. Some people!"

"You're hot headed enough to be Irish."

"Well, where am I now?! At least I wasn't stupid enough to get married again, unlike most people. I never met a man who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. In fact, I never met a man worth spending a year with." I had two sips of water, and a few more bites of my sandwich. Maggie was working on her own lunch.

"So the records on Wikipedia say," said Maggie.

"Ah yes, what a slut I was. But I paid for the dinners. Stay in control, you know?"

"How can I not know?"

I raised my left eyebrow. "Never date a man who makes more than you, my mother always told me. She was quite a feminist before it was fashionable."

"Was it ever fashionable in Italy?"

"In a subdued sort of way. Not the American way. You can be a self-determined woman and still be feminine. To me, wearing pants, disdaining personal vanity and trying to be like a man is a poser game that has nothing to do with feminism. Isn't the original idea behind it personal sovereignty, and nothing more?"

Maggie shrugged. "I suppose so. I never much think about it. I like being a woman and spoiling myself as such. No one's ever tried to stop me from doing what I want to do, and I've had a pretty good life, so I never had to think about it."

"American women are so strange. I'll never understand them."

"I haven't spent much time with them. Only business when we go to the U.S."

"My biggest markets are in the U.S. and the U.K., but I swear they are the most confused people on the planet."

"Then I guess it's a good thing that I didn't develop any relationships with either of them."

"Oh, I'm sure there's exceptions. I just haven't met them." I finished my sandwich, and as soon as Maggie finished hers, she gave me my apple and took her own.

*****

We were getting real close to the island. We had perhaps two kilometers to go, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, but I knew I would make it. The island was huge. We were heading toward the south end of it, and there was a very high castle in the distance.

"Quite an impressive place ahead," said Maggie,

"I wonder if anyone but us can see it?"

"No clue."

I suddenly felt a strange desperation! I had to get to that island. I just knew it would hold some of the dreams I'd never shared. I had a second wind. "Maggie, we have to speed up. I can't stand it any more."

"But can you?"

"Yes, and I will."

We got to the landing in half an hour. I used my cane to get into what must have been quite a sight, of a three-legged waddle-lope. When I touched the islands main dock, I suddenly felt like I did when I was twenty years old. Maggie's lower jaw dropped. "Lara!"

"What?"

"Look at you!"

"I don't have a mirror."

"Look down at yourself!"

I scowled. "I can see my knees for the first time in twenty years."

"You're going to need another dress. You're years are fading before my eyes. You're metamorphosing. It's like you're a shape shifter."

I pulled at the front of my dowdy dress. "My god. Am I dead?"

"Not necessarily. Do I look any different?"

"No, but you're in the prime of your life. What are you? Twenty six?"

"Yes, and you look like you did in those old pictures of yourself. I can't believe it!"

I smiled. "I can. In fact, I was half expecting this. Let's go."

We hit a path the minute we got to land. It went up to a large wooden door in a tall cobblestone wall that went up two meters. Maggie opened it, and on the other side was a huge garden with fountains, gazebos, streams, bridges, and statuary. It was amazing.

'Lara!'

"Yes?"

"It works! I didn't say it. I thought it at you, and you answered."

My eyes widened. 'You did?' I thought it at her.

"I just heard a 'You did?' but I didn't see your mouth move."

"I think we're dead."

Maggie waved her hand over the garden. 'If this is death, who cares?' She went out of speech mode.

So did I. 'I like this better. Stefan, are you here?'

'We're 'ere. Folly (Follow) tha (that) patt (path) ter de castle, go over de moat, open de dure Door), go roi, Right) count foive (five) 'allways (hallways), go lef (left), an' you'll fend (find) us in a room on a couch in front av a fire. Yer 'ill 'av tay (tea) waitin' for yer on yisser table by yisser reserved sate (seat).'

'Where are we?' asked Maggie.

'Tech Duinn. Oi'm Donn Ui'Midir, de white lad yer take a fancy ter is Thanatos, an' de lady is Macha De Red. We'll tell yer al' aboyt it whaen (when) yer git 'ere, an' aye, yer are dead. Yer both felled onto de rocks whaen de worn oyt (out) sturs (stairs) gave way de first time yer both went down dem (them), but we didn't want yer ter nu (know) dat, so we gave yer de illusion dat yer jist experienced,' sent Donn.

I looked at Maggie. 'You heard Donn's unspoken words?' I didn't have to ask. I somehow knew the answer was 'yes'.

'Indeed I did, but I thought Tech Duinn was off the coast of County Cork?'

'Tech Duinn is Etheric. It 'as naw (no) Physical locashun (location). It can be accessed from anywhere.' That was Stefan.

I opened my arms to Maggie, and we embraced. 'I think we're home.'

'Yer are.' came the mental note from Donn.

Maggie and I looked at each other, and ran the rest of the way to our destination.

Paradise, we have found.

Can’t Rely On Past Experience

I couldn't believe it. The petrol station was closed. It had gone out of business since the last time I made this trip. I didn't have enough fuel to make it to the next station, and on my desolate journey, I wasn't going to have anyone to rescue me.

I was toast. I had no brain fryer cell phone, and I'd been too short sighted and reliant on past experience repeating itself to carry extra petrol.

The mountains were about 80 kilometres away. I'd been a Brownie, a Girl Scout, studied plants and knew all kinds of wild foods to eat. If I could make it to the mountains, I'd survive. Granted, it might take me a couple of weeks to get to the other side of the range, but on that other side there was civilisation. The problem was, between those mountains and me was desert.

So is life in the United States. If I were still back in the country of my birth, I wouldn't be in this mess. The crowding of England had its advantages, though I never realised it until now; not to mention that nowhere in England was there a location this hostile to the concept of anything living in it.

Though I'd lived most of my life in the states, I'd generally gone home for the summer. I was rather proud of being born on the other side of The Pond, and I couldn't have made it more obvious. I guarded and maintained my accent like it was platinum. I oozed arrogance at having been born in Whitehaven, and surprisingly this; in addition to my accent got me quite a few dates, not that I'd ever met anyone who measured up to my standards in the States.

I did have a lad friend in Scotland who I hoped to make a part of my life later. He was in Ayr. The problem was, my job was in Seattle, and there was no way I could take my ridiculously high standard of living with me to the UK, and I wasn't going to bring him to this country that was falling apart and that I held in such high contempt. I was planning on working another three years, saving up another couple hundred thousand, and seeing if we could both move to Ireland if the job situation was right. After all, we both had ancestors from there. I loved England, but the taxation there had just gotten too high to deal with.

I was coming home from a trip to Death Valley. I'd taken a week off this late September before the 4th quarter rush where I might end up working ten or eleven weeks straight with no days off, and well; it looked like I'd be forced to take more than that week off unless there was someone else on this road going my way! I hadn't seen a car all morning, though. I wasn't counting on one coming by, not to mention that I didn't know if they'd even stop for me.

The United States of America! The Land Of The Isolated!

I would drive my car as far as I could, and walk the rest of the way if nothing came by. I thought that was doable.

I made it another 40 kilometres, and it was 3:00 pm. The sun was too high, and it was still too hot to travel. First I opened all the doors and windows of the car, and then sat in the back where it was shaded. I had some water, and decided maybe I might sit outside of the car in its shade.

As I closed up the water bottle, a shadow passed over the rear window of the car, and I heard a loud thump as I felt something impact the top of the car. Whatever it was; was big and heavy.

I think my heart raced at about 500 beats a minute. I couldn't get the doors closed in time if there was a threat, and even if I did get the doors and windows shut, I'd die of heat stroke in an hour or two. I'd cook. And then the threat could simply break the windows if it wanted to, couldn't it? Assuming it was a person?

Before I could blink my eyes, a golden nose poked through the doorway I was sitting by. A beautiful, furry, golden nose!

A Palomino pony was standing outside my car. He had a light saddle, and a bare head. He was a stallion, and his Arab breeding was evident, but he was a little too stocky to be pure Arab. His head was Araby, he kept his neck arched, and carried his tail high. He was very muscular, had four white socks, a star on his forehead, and his mane and tail looked absolutely silver. I'd also never seen a horse look so close to metallic gold as this lovely creature.

But what was on my car?

Suddenly I heard a voice. 'Well, are you just going to sit there all day like a total idiot, or are you going to get on Hesper's back so we can take you to those mountains you want to go to?'

"Huh?"

'You heard me. Oh, and if you kick him, he will throw you off, stomp on you, roll over on you, and I will have you for lunch right after, hoping you are vegetarian, because they tend to taste better.' The accent was Irish.

"Who are you?" I asked.

'Percy. I'm on top of the car. Would you like to come out and meet me?'

"Considering what you just said, I'm not so sure."

'Oh, come on. I was a'bein' sarcastic. I wouldn't hurt a hair on your head. Now are you coming out of the car?'

Like did I have a choice? I got out of the car, and when I saw what was on the roof, I screamed about as loud as I could.

It was a cat. A black cat! He was huge. Like a leopard, but he had like 13 centimeter fangs. (About 5 inches, for you American non-metrically inclined ignoramuses.) He also had a long tail, and his body was too light to be a smilodon, but what a sight. He had his paws over his ears. 'Shut up, you stupid bitch. I said I wasn't goin' to hurt you, and I meant it! Do you have any idea how much you are hurting me? My ears are pretty sensitive, you know. After all, I'm a CAT!'

I was taken aback. "I...I...I'm sorry. I am actually being talked to by a cat?"

'NO, YOU CLUELESS IDIOT!!!! I CAN'T TALK. MY VOCAL CHORDS ARE ALL WRONG. WHY DO I HAVE TO TELL THIS TO EVERYBODY?! I AM SENDING THOUGHTS INTO YOUR HEAD LIKE WE USED TO DO A THOUSAND OF YOUR LIVES AGO, THOUGH I THINK CONVERSATION LIKE THIS IS SO MORONIC AND TIME CONSUMING; BEING I CAN SEND TO YOU ALL OF MY THOUGHTS AT ONCE INSTEAD OF DIVIDING THEM INTO THESE SILLY WORDS, BUT YOUR PUNY LITTLE NON-FELINE MIND WOULD BE SO OVERWHELMED YOU COULDN'T MAKE HEADS OR TAILS OF THE MESSAGE!!!!' That came to me like a very loud yell.

Oh. I think I was just pretty heavily insulted, but I guess I couldn't argue. "Are you some kind of magical aide like out of a Mercedes Lackey novel come to rescue me from my own stupidity, or am I hallucinating, or what?"

'We'll get to that later,' sent Percy. 'Just get on Hesper’s back, and let's go.

“Hesper, huh? Nice name,” I said.

‘ Yes, and you are Addison Radcliffe.'

"How do you know this?" I asked.

'We're telepaths, IN CASE YOU HADN'T NOTICED!'

For some strange reason, I was suddenly feeling mighty dim. How could I have NOT noticed? "I'm sorry, but these unfamiliar circumstances have turned my reality downside up, and I'm not thinking too well. Can I pet you?"

'Yes, but then mount up and let's get out of here! Considering my penchant for always wearing black, it is a bit toasty under this desert sun; and I'd like to get a move on,' sent Percy.

I reached out and stroked him behind the ears. He narrowed his eyes like a contented house cat. "You know you're beautiful? Both of you?"

'We know,' sent Percy. 'We get told that all the time. Now let us leave. We’re used to a cooler climate. Neither one of us can stand the heat.'

"OK. Let me get my water."

'Drink what you need now, and leave the bottle behind. Trust me in that you won't need it!'

"But look at how far the mountains are?"

'Almost 45 kilometers, you English snot,' sent Percy. 'No Problem! We can run fast.'

"But cats can't run for that long," I said.

Percy simply roared. He would have put a lion to shame. Needless to say, I mounted Hesper; and he took off like a lightning bolt. I hadn't had any water, but at the moment I really didn't need any, having just filled up in the car.

The pony was almost a horse. He was shy by a fraction of a centimetre. He was going at an all out gallop, and the gait was very smooth. The wind in my face felt pretty good, despite its heat. It was better than hot, static air.

Percy was running along side us, and he was keeping up quite well. I couldn't judge the distance or the speed, but I know it would have taken me all day to cover what they were going to do in what looked like, maybe an hour if they kept this up.

They kept it up.

When we got to the range, it was 4:13 when I looked at my watch. The road narrowed quickly when Hesper rounded the first hill of the range, and it turned into a stairway.

"Wait a minute," I said. "This isn't the way I came. But it's the same road. Where are you taking me?"

'Home,' said Percy. 'Now that you're in the mountains, would you like to walk the rest of the way, or shall we stay with you?'

I had to be honest. "I think I'd better walk for now after that ride, since I know I'm going to be saddle sore; but I'd feel better if you stayed with me. Safer, too! Will you?" I dismounted.

'For a heavy petting session that includes a tummy rub, Hell yeah!' sent Percy. “And a complete grooming for Hesper would be nice after we get to where we live. After all, he has done you a huge favour.”

"You live here?" I asked. Ye gods, sore I was. I'd be limping for a while.

'I live wherever I want,' sent Percy.

I chuckled. "If you kill your own food, I think I'd like you as a flat mate. Not that I can't afford to feed you, but it would put a crimp in my budget."

'Says the one high power executive who makes over a half million a year,' sent Percy.

"Well, I'd have to get a room added on for Hesper too, wouldn't I? And feed him a gallon of fresh squeezed orange juice, a few bottles of Martinelli Sparkling Cider, a few pounds of carrots, apples, peaches, bananas, a bucket of farina with maple syrup every morning, and hell knows what else."

'Chamomile tea with lots of honey,' sent Percy. 'Lukewarm. And two hours of daily gentle grooming.'

"Deal!" I said.

'I can be sarcastic too. None of that food is necessary, but hey. He'll take the grooming.' sent Percy.

When we got to the stairs, I said, "The last time I took this road, this was a road. That was 2 days ago. What happened?"

'We took a slightly different turn. Don't worry, though. There's a waterfall a few meters up. Very cold, and very good.'

I wasn't thirsty, but I'd try it. "All right. You know of a shortcut, or something?"

'We know of a shelter,' sent Percy.

That sounded appealing.

The stone steps were tiered in sections. After the third section ran that waterfall he’d mentioned, and a stream.

I never dreamed water could taste so good. The steps narrowed, and they came to a tunnel after the eighth tier. It was a long tunnel, but you could see light on the other side.

"We're supposed to go through this?"

'Ideally,' sent Percy.

"Where does it go?"

'The garden of our slaves,' sent Percy.

"Your slaves?"

'Our so called caretakers when we were like how you used to be,'

"What does that mean?"

'You'll find that out in a couple of minutes. Come on. You'll like this,' sent Percy.

When I got through the tunnel, I was awed beyond measure. The garden was huge, and so perfect. It seemed to go on forever. There were meticulous flower beds, trees that were both in fruit and in bloom, cobblestone paths, fountains, gazebos of different types, streams with small bridges, berries of different types, scented flowers like jasmine and roses that perfumed the air around them and made the vicinity hard to leave. There were also many torches with different coloured lights.

It would be twilight soon, and I imagine this heavenly place would be a locale to make my best past phanatsies pale in comparison. "Who owns this place?" I asked.

'Source,' said Percy. 'Donn Ui'Midir built it, though. In fact, we'll come to him soon.'

I scowled. "Strange. Donn is the name of the Irish death god. It means 'brown'"

'I know,' sent Percy. 'Don't know why he was named that. His hair is red. Light red, but red nevertheless. Some call him blond, but I wouldn't.'

I wrinkled my nose. "And he was the son of Midir the Proud. Wait a minute! Ui'Midir?"

'You didn't survive the desert, Ms. Radcliffe,' sent Percy. 'Donn sent us to you in an illusion to make your death a more pleasant experience to you. Neil Wakeman will be joining you shortly via a suicide after he hears of your death. We'll do the same for him.'

"My Scottish boyfriend. He loves me that much?"

'He does.' Percy and Hesper stopped. 'See the dude up ahead on the bench by the fountain? That's Donn. He's waiting for you. He'll tell you what to expect.'

I walked up to him with Percy and Hesper at my side. "You're Donn?" Damn, he was cute. Looked Hell o’ young, though.

"Welcome, Addison. Did you enjoy your trip here?"

I smiled. "It was like entering Narnia, almost."

Donn smiled back. "I can see the analogy. The love of your life will be joining you in five days of his time. For you, between now and the moment of his arrival, which has absolutely nothing to do with the concept of Earth time whatsoever, you can explore this place, and re-learn what existence is like on this side of The Veil. Now, shall we go in and have some tea?" He pointed to the castle, which I hadn't even noticed until now. He stood up.

"I'd like that very much," I said as I put a hand over Hesper's withers, and a hand on Percy's head, "but after these two, Neil might have to fight to get my affections back!"

'Nah,' sent Percy. 'Around here, we just share.'

Donn stood up and pointed at Percy. "Hey! Don't you start anything you little bastard! I am off limits!"

Percy looked at me. 'Yeah right! He can't fight 'em all off.'

I chuckled. "I'll leave 'im be. You're coming with us, right?" I asked as we started walking toward the castle.

'Indeed we will,' sent Percy. 'And I will also snuggle up in bed with you tonight, to cater to your unspoken desire to crash out with a big cat.'

As the four of us walked to the castle, I wondered why I was ever alive on the Physical Plane...but I'd find that out soon enough.

Home, By Way Of The Abyss

Man, I don't know what the Hell I'm doing. I just finished the Castaneda series, and I've been working on Magical Passes for several months. It wasn't doing me much good. I had better luck with other mystical teachings, but there were some things that crossed over in the lessons. Turn off the internal dialogue, quiet the mind, and all that. I wasn't going to get very far via my dear Carlos in enhancing my abilities, but it was a damn good philosophical read. I learned a lot, but none of what I really wanted was coming to me. This was not the right path to what I was looking for, not that it was a waste of time.

Because of my studies in the arcane, I could do things. I could communicate with animals in a rudimentary fashion. I've tamed wild animals in less than a month. Bobcats, coyotes, deer, raccoons, and raptors! When my nonhuman friends were with me, even in the company of mixed species; they never attacked each other. I could stroke a coyote with one hand, and a bobcat with the other. The wild ones didn't attack the two so-called domestic cats I cared for, either. I just knew what to do to show them my feline rulers were off limits as prey. Telepathy had a strong role, and I had the ability with animals. People were another matter, but I could attain communication with something else that I could not see. If I concentrated on a problem for long enough, I would get an answer from outside of myself. It was in words. The voice was always the same, and I couldn't discern the gender of my 'ally', if I dared call 'it' that. I ended up spontaneously knowing a lot of things that I'd never conceived of before. Sometimes when I heard a conversation, a question might be asked; and I'd just know the answer, not that I'd necessarily give it up. I rather didn't talk to people. I admit to thinking most were beneath me, though occasionally I'd be surprised and find what I thought were my equals or even my betters, once in a while.

Most of my betters were dead, as far as I was concerned. Intellect was of utmost importance to me, so I refer to my intellectual betters. Sartre, Aristotle, Catherine the Great, Socrates, Hypatia, Theodora of Byzantium, Chief Joseph, the Shelley's, Robert Burns, Wilde, Dumas, Wolfe, Hugo, Cleopatra, and the list goes on.

I could occasionally invoke the dead in a dream, but not always; and not those who obsessed me more than anything. Then again, I wasn't 100 percent reliable in any of my abilities. I considered myself a sorceress/witch, but I didn't admit it to anyone. I figured I'd just be trying to sound uppity. I only talked about my practises to one person, and she was also into similar studies. My dear Valarie Lancaster.

I was basically a solitary. I studied everything from Celtic and Germanic witchcraft to Shamanism of the First Nation Folk and Africa to Voodoo and Santeria. Of course I used plants to help me out. My garden contained wolfsbane (or call it aconite), deadly nightshade (else known as belladonna), hemlock and thornapple, referred to as the sacred datura of the Castaneda series.

Datura. A long high, or an interesting death! Gods, but that plant smelled horrible. I'd made the ointment according to Carlos' recipe, and my nose would have refused to allow it near me after it was completed, if it could have.

What a strange plant it was. The flowers smelled heavenly, but if you bruised the plant, the stench was intolerable. The plant was powerful and it could knock you senseless for a week and a half...IF it didn't kill you.

It was strange. With a lot of toxic plants, non-lethal doses got you...into...um...rather introspective states; I'd say. They were the bridge between the worlds. And the ones I used were technically legal.

*******

One thing that fascinated me about the Castaneda books was the concept of throwing one's self into the abyss. I knew it was symbolic, for to jump off a cliff; you would end up in a splat. There was no getting around that.

To me, it symbolised crossroads. A throwing of one's self to the fates. You do it, and you either find what you're looking for, or you don't. The concept has been obsessing me for a while. Well, I took two weeks off work; and this was the day to try that.

I'd ritually cleaned my house yesterday. I left the back door open for the two cats to get out, and the cold water running in the kitchen. I cut three 10 pound bags of cat food of different flavours wide open, and I changed the message on my answering machine to tell my best friend; Valarie that I was going on vacation two days from now, and to check on the cats; in case I didn't survive what I intended to do, though I made no mention of me risking my life in that message. She'd call in a few days, being we generally visited once a week and she'd have to make sure I'd be there.

I'd just showered, and went out to my garden sky clad, except for a pair of flip-flop sandals. I could get away with it. My estate was five acres, my back yard was surrounded by lots of trees; and no one was going to see me!

My garden contained more than just toxic plants. I grew my own herbs and quite a few vegetables. I also had a peach tree, an apple tree, two cherry trees, a lemon tree, an orange tree, a plumb tree and a fig tree. I preserved or gave away what I couldn't eat. Needless to say, I was popular at work when the season was right. I was an expert organic gardener, and my produce couldn't be beat in the taste department.

I kneeled before a datura plant, and prayed to her. I told her I was going to cut off one of her pods, and use it to attempt find Truth. With my razor sharp athame, I cut the pod; then my finger to give her a drop of my own blood where I'd made the cut, in return. I cleared my mind, and listened to her for her message. I saw a vision of atmospheric waves, and felt complete peace.

I thanked her, went inside, and stepped out of my flip-flops. I hated those things, and only wore them when I went outside and didn't want to get my formerly bare feet dirty.

I went to my ritual room with seventy-seven seeds of the pod ground into a powder, and a bottle of Chianti. At my altar, I poured the powdered seeds and some of the Chianti into my silver dragon goblet, mixed, lit a red candle, a white candle and a black candle that have never been lit before, lit some jasmine incense in one incense holder, and rose incense in another.

The Chianti was ruined as far as the taste went, but I got it down. I've had worse.

I kneeled before my altar, and prayed to my deities to open the door to where I could find true knowledge. Akashic Knowledge. I stayed in front of the altar until the incense burned out. I left the candles to burn themselve’s out. There was no fire hazard here; being both the altar and the floor were black marble.

I went to my bedroom, saturated my freshly washed sheets and myself with attar of roses, lay down and covered myself with the bedding.

I visualised standing in front of an abyss. I passed out, not long after...I think. It was hard to tell.

The abyss became real to me, and I jumped. I felt it like I actually jumped off a cliff. Time stopped as I blanked out for a second or so. Then I became aware of the fact I was falling. I kept falling. There was no bottom to this pit, it seemed. It was completely dark. I couldn't see anything for what little time I actually had my eyes open. I was also aware of the speed. It was cold, and the atmospheric drag of terminal velocity did not feel good on a naked body.

This was a nightmare. To hurtle down through a tunnel forever! That's what I was perceiving. It looks like I made a bit of a mistake in trying to find what I was looking for via the datura plant. I had curled myself into a ball a long time ago, and was just dropping like a rock into eternity. Eventually I passed out in my already passed out state, provided I really was passed out. Blessed oblivion from my self-induced torture, not that I could really think while this was happening in the first place.

*******

When I regained some sense of self, I was no longer falling. I was floating. I opened my eyes, and it was still as dark as dark can get. Pitch black. It didn't matter if I had visual ability or if I was blind. Floating, cold, starving, and now that I could think; I was getting a bit scared.

Was I dead or hallucinating? I felt very much alive, but what I was experiencing couldn't happen in the realm of Physical Life. If I was dead, was I going to spend forever floating in the dark? Was this the price for a quasi-suicide?

This sucked the big 'un, mon. I did NOT appreciate this.

Could I end it? If I was dead, shouldn't I be able to control my destiny through the cognisance of my circumstances? Or even if I was hallucinating, I was lucid enough to direct the hallucination, wasn't I?

Suddenly I heard a voice. That androgynous voice that always told me what I needed to know, or sometimes what someone else needed or wanted to know. 'Darkover, Darkover.'

It was my Pagan name. It had been given to me by that voice. I once told a card reader of it, and she said the name fit me perfectly. She saw the arrogant, misanthropic streak in me, and she told me so to my face. It was also one of the two Tarot readings I ever got that actually told of my future. Granted her timing had been a little off, but all she said would happen; did.

'Open your eyes.' came the voice.

I did. There was a faint light in the direction I was heading in. Was I going down? Gravity did not currently exist for me, and was there an up or down where I was? I might as well have been in space, but there were no stars or planets in sight.

I floated to the edge of a tunnel, and landed there. There were torches lighting it up. Near the entrance was a hooded, black witch's robe, and cross garter sandals. I put both on. The robe had a pentagram with the star pointing up. I kept the hood down, for there was no point in wearing it at the moment, and I entered the tunnel.

Originally it looked like a cave with a rocky floor. After a few hundred meters, the walls turned to well-fit, asymmetrical grey stone bricks, and the floor was cobbled. It was still as cold as hell, and I was still hungry enough to eat a horse, if only I wasn't vegetarian.

This tunnel seemed to go on forever. At least walking was better than falling into that same forever.

I continued on, until I found a side tunnel. I looked down it, and there was a table with stuff on it. Of course, I had to check that out.

The table was polished cherry wood, and it had four chairs and place settings. It was also in front of a lit fireplace that was built into the wall. There were quite a few covered pots, platters and bowls on the table. The smells were driving me crazy in my starved state. How nice.

I sat down in the chair in front of the fireplace. I was immediately warmed. I uncovered the hidden foods, and didn't hesitate in serving myself. I sensed I wouldn't be rebuked for it, considering my current condition.

The food that had been heated was still steaming hot. I helped myself to grits, potato pancakes, two buttered crumpets, one with blueberry preserves, the other with apple butter, two devilled eggs, and a bowl of creamed raspberries. There was also tea and orange juice.

After I'd stuffed myself silly, I poured myself one final cup of tea. It was a dessert tea with a fruity flavour that needed no sweeteners, and it was pre-creamed. It was absolutely delicious.

While I was having that cup, the voice came to me again. 'Good breakfast, no?'

I answered, "Very good. Can I ask who you are?"

'You're ready to meet me, I think.'

"You've been with me forever, huh?"

'Since before you were born.' Suddenly I found a gorgeous young red headed lad sitting in front of me. He appeared out of nowhere. He was dressed in a black silk tunic, leotards, boots, and he was wearing a baldric harness with a claymore on his back. He spoke to me. "Can I bring up the tale of Persephone?" What a lovely Irish accent he had. His voice could have belonged to either gender.

I smiled, and I knew what he was talking about. "The six pomegranate seeds she ate, and where she had to spend half the year in the underworld?"

He smiled back. "You can't go back to the world of the living, though. You took a lethal dose of the datura. I'm Donn Ui'Midir, by the way. You'll remember me very soon. You've ended so many lifetimes with me, and I've looked over so many of your lives that you didn't need to live...Darkover."

"I never told anyone that name except for one Tarot reader."

"It's been your name forever. Your real name! Now you're home again because of your eternal quest for knowledge, which as you will know is why you chose to live another life; not that it did you any good from your current perspective, huh?"

"True. I want to know the whys and hows of everything," I said.

"Everything is still far away, but you always get some of it, and you always throw it away. You also always seem to live and die in similar fashions. Maybe it's time to get off the merry-go-round. Now let's get you reconsolidated so you can know what this is all about," said Donn, as he stood up.

I also got up. We got beside each other in the hall, and I extended my hand, which he took. "What are you to me?"

"A mentor, a friend, and an inspiration."

When we touched, suddenly many memories came to me. "Ah, yes. And I again suddenly rue that you're not a woman, though sometimes from the looks of you; me thinks you're close enough."

He chuckled. "Not a form I'll take around you, thank you. Now, I assume you want to walk the halls of Tech Duinn for a while before you go back to your eternal research?"

"I wish I could just learn it all at once."

We stopped, and he ran his free index finger down my nose. "Not yet. Death never does hold all the answers. Not even most of them."

"So I am forced to acknowledge...yet again, that there is no free ride to omniscience."

"Eventually you’ll have it, my dear. Eventually. Not even I know everything...yet"

Images

I had an idea for a painting of Thanatos and Stephanie. Both would be in an exotic 'warrior slut' getup, armed to the teeth, and reaching for each other. I wanted Thanatos in painted tiger stripes, and both dressed similarly with the exception of Stephanie wearing a minimalistic brassiere of sorts; even though Stephanie, in profile; was about as flat as a pancake due to the low fat percentage she wore.

I called them both for a quick pose.

They appeared before me in seconds. They were even in costume. G-strings, boots, gauntlets on right hand, headbands, baldric harnesses and claymores, asp arm bracelet on left arm, and thick leather and metal bracelets on right wrists. They had various knives strategically placed, and of course, Stef had her leather brassier.

I looked at them. "Absolutely gorgeous, but Stef!"

"Yes?"

"You look like a dude in drag," I said. "Maybe one who's had an industrial accident of sorts in the nether regions, but still!"

"So? I always look like this; though sans the industrial accident look when in male."

I had to laugh. "Still, is it too much to ask for a 31A just for a few minutes until I can get the freeze-frame in my head?"

"And what do I get for it?" she asked.

"I'll pet your nose after I'm done with the painting."

"Deal," she said, just before she transformed herself into something almost recognisable as female.

I studied them for a few moments, and then said, "OK, you can go now."

Stephanie gave me a wink, and a thumbs-up. "I'm gonna hold you to that nose pet."

"No problem," I said said as I picked up my pencil, and started to draw what I just saw.

Thanatos and Stephanie then faded from my view.

*****

When Thanatos and 'Stefan' landed in the Akashic Castle, Stef said, "At least he didn't request stiletto heels."

"Yes, you little hypocrite. You don't like being typecast as being a hot number, but you typecast me and Donn so."

"You can typecast my nose all you want."

Thanatos laughed. "That diversion is so far out in left field, I don't think I even want to go there. Anyway, it's all for the sake of art. Neuter just isn't big in the visuals."

"I love androgyny. The way you and Donn look? Your faces, anyway."

Thanatos sighed. "That's not quite what I'm talking about. You like the more effeminate face, but a more traditionally masculine build. Lean and defined...both genders."

"True."

"Most don't. They prefer one look or the other, without having to spend an hour trying to figure out what gender someone is."

"Not that a preference is really relevant any more," said Stefan.

Thanatos ran his right index finger down Stefan's nose. "You better be glad Donn put up with you in the past, despite him having preferences."

Stefan shrugged. "I think our relationship goes beyond that."

"Tell me about it. Ours sure did, speaking of Donn and I. Gods, how confusing and convoluted it was before we got ourselves sorted out."

"I'm kind of hankerin' for another job. Our next case! Should we look for a catwalk model?"

"I've had enough of those to last me a lifetime, speaking in analogy. No! I don't think it would be a good idea for you to go there, especially. Not if you don't want to get things hurled at you, considering your attitude."

"OK."

"Let's scan the records. We'll find you or us something. Like somebody you might actually be sympathetic to?"

"What a concept."

*****

Fenton Pogorzelski was his name. He was twenty-three, and he'd just completed his Masters in electronics. He was a four point zero type of guy, though he did have to work for it. His life was spent studying, but that was soon to end. He had a contract to start with Tyco in a week. With his starting salary, he'd be able to put down a seventy percent down payment on a three-bedroom house in the area in three years, if he lived at home during that time, and if prices stayed as they were. That, or he could buy his parents house, if they let him.

They might. He had a pretty good relationship with his folks. He planned on taking care of them when they couldn't take care of themselves.

Fenton was a nerd. A geek. A slight, un-athletic creature, whom everyone made fun of all the way through high school. His name didn't help him either. He was one that no one wanted to be caught dead with, though a few girls did surreptitiously get him to help them with their homework a few times.

Yeah, he'd gotten beat up here and there just for being what he was. By the time he was a sophomore in high school, he tried to keep his social life to a minimum. No one understood him, so why bother trying to be friends with anyone? But in his self-imposed isolation, he became very arrogant. A complete intellectual snot!

Yeah, it was a defence mechanism. It also didn't exactly do anything to make people like him any more. In fact, he had a reputation as being somewhat of a pariah.

*****

Fenton was walking the halls of his for the final time. They were empty, or so he thought. This was a ritual good-bye for him. He didn't know yet if he wanted to go for a PhD.

Doctor Pogorzelski. It had a nice ring, but was it worth the time and money? He'd decide later. Very soon was the time to make some money. Big money.

As Fenton turned the corner, her found he wasn't alone. He found Frank Wilson walking toward him. A football player! A total jock, quite popular with the ladies, though Fenton couldn't understand his appeal. He wasn't very bright, and Fenton thought he was just a big hulk in a crew cut. Nevertheless, he was the thing. He had NFL hopes, so maybe that's all the girls were after, but who knows? And how many college players actually made the NFL? Yeah, Frank was good, but was he good enough?

"Fenton!" Frank wore a sardonic grin.

"Yes?"

"So I hear you're starting at Tyco next week."

"Yeah."

"Good money, huh?" asked Frank.

"As if I didn't work for it."

"Ever have one date in your life?"

Fenton crossed his arms. "Why would I want to waste what I can only give once to some high maintenance bimbo who couldn't think her way out of a garbage bag? I think I have a little more self respect than that."

Not a good thing to say to a fellow who's more than twice your weight, and who works out for a living. Especially if he's not the most secure individual on the planet. "Yeah right. You couldn't get the ugliest girl on the planet."

Fenton cocked his head. "Why don't you look me up in ten years, and see where we're both at, huh? And I won't have been to the hospital once, for some contagious disease."

That got him punched in the face. Then when he hit the ground, he got the side of his head kicked in.

Frank looked around.

No witnesses. He left the soon to be no longer living Fenton, and walked out of the building the back way.

*****

Stefan and Thanatos were dressed like gothic metal-heads. In black jeans, boots, Stefan wore a Black Sabbath T-shirt with a couple of spiked black leather bracelets, and Thanatos wore a black work shirt with the sleeves ripped off, a dog collar, spiked bracelets, and fingerless gloves.

They both kneeled beside Fenton. Stefan smiled, as he stroked Fenton's hair. "I would have liked this one, when I was alive. He was also about as good at reading people as me, and we had a similar attitude."

Thanatos chuckled. "Had?"

"OK! Still have. Time trip back to the moment of his so called departure from here?"

"Aye."

*****

When Fenton was brought to, he found two punks kneeled beside him. A red head with striking turquoise eyes, and a nose that defied physics, and the other one was an (alleged) albino with glowing red eyes. "Are you all right?" asked the (alleged) albino.

"Oh man. I don't know. I got...well, I guess so." Fenton sat up. "How do I look?"

"Bruised cheek," said the albino. "I'm Thanatos, by the way. This is Stefan."

Both Thanatos and Stefan got to their feet. Thanatos moved with the strangest grace. It seemed so out of place.

Fenton noticed Thanatos had fangs. "Thanatos. Death. Is that your real name?" And with an Irish accent? How non sequitur can reality get?!

"Hm hm. Sure is."

"And you have dental implants?" asked Fenton of Thanatos.

"We both do," said Stefan, bearing his own fangs. "What happened to you?" Another Irish accent!

Fenton sneered. "I got punched out by the college moron known as Frank Wilson. I said something that he couldn't deal with."

Stefan extended a hand to Fenton. "Dude! That guy's a monster."

Fenton shrugged, took Stefan's hand, and allowed him self to be pulled up. "Also an idiot. I wonder if I should file charges?" They started walking down the hall to exit the building.

"You can, but it is time consuming," said Stefan. "There's the days in court over sentencing and all, too."

"I do have a new job to start next week. Maybe not! Seems like I'm not that bad off, but if that encephalite tries anything like this again, I'm gonna have a contract put out on him when I can afford it. Thanatos! How'd you do that to your eyes?"

"I didn't. It was done to me, but let's talk about that later. Encephalite. Pretty good with the innovative insults! I never heard that one before. Not in English, anyway. It is a French term."

"Not technically correct, but it ought to be," said Fenton. So Thanatos knew it was a French term, corrupted by him. Judging from how they spoke, these two weren't as dumb as they looked. And they were actually talking to him with no show of contempt or hostility? What a concept!

"Nothing got broken, I hope," said Thanatos.

"I don't think so. My face hurts a little, but..." Fenton raised his hand, and pressed against his cheek. "No. I'm fine. You two a couple of gothic vampires?"

Stefan chuckled. "Not really. We look the part, but we don't play the game. We're not into blood sports."

"I hope you two are sun screened. You guys are pretty pale, " said Fenton just as they walked outside.

"Oh, yeah," said Stefan. "We aren't that stupid."

Fenton looked at Thanatos. "Sorry if this seems like a personal question, but how's your vision?"

"Better than most."

"You don't need sunglasses?"

"Not anymore," said Thanatos.

"You really must tell me what was done to your eyes."

"Later. Don't worry," said Thanatos. "Eventually I'll tell you everything, but now is not the time for that. You strike me as pretty cool. A cut above, you know? Can we take you to lunch?"

"I guess so. I've never seen you around. You students here?"

"No," said Thanatos. "We have no need of being soaked by this overpriced drain that can't answer ninety percent of our questions. We have better sources of education."

"This I have to hear," said Fenton.

"Arcane sources," said Thanatos. "I'll have to show you our library later."

"It's quite large, I imagine."

Thanatos smiled. "Beyond your wildest dreams."

Fenton cocked his head. "Why do I get the feeling my first impression of you was very wrong?"

"They so often are," said Stefan. "What is it they say? Never judge a book by its cover?"

"Something like that," said Fenton.

"What did you think we were?" asked Stefan.

"I don't think you want to know."

As if they didn't already know. Telepathy has its advantages.

*****

Fenton looked around him, after they got off the campus. "What happened to everyone? There's hardly anyone here. Hardly any traffic."

"No clue, but I like it," said Stefan.

"I have to admit, so do I, but it's odd. Where are we going?"

"Just across the street to that place called 'The Hole In The Wall'," said Stefan.

"That's a strange name for a restaurant. I never noticed it," said Fenton.

"New management sign up," said Stefan. "It's pretty cool. Vegetarian cross culture that doesn't know what it is. I guess the name fits."

"I suppose if they want to go for the weird crowds. I admit with a name like that, I would he tried it after I found out about it."

*****

There were two people sitting at one of the tables. An Asian man, and this awesomely gorgeous, olive skinned, raven-haired woman! Damn, but these two had Irish accents, too. Thanatos, Stefan and Fenton sat right next to them, but the two were (allegedly) heedless of the newcomers.

They were discussing the Peloponnesian War, and how it devastated Greece. The lady even brought up the failed helot revolt of 465 BC, and how Sparta had rejected the aid of Athens to suppress this revolt. Fenton was all ears; and he was fascinated by this seemingly brilliant woman! Fenton must have been the only man on the planet who was more interested in her intellect than her looks…well, other than Stefan. But to call the un-statically gendered Stefan a man was questionable.

Thanatos and Stefan smiled at each other. Thanatos signalled the alleged owner. "Warren! "Tea please. Oolong, I guess."

When Warren put the three cups and saucers down at the table, Fenton was barely aware of him. He was concentrating on the conversation between the lady and the Asian man. He wanted to know those two. "Are you two students here?" asked Fenton, when there was a break in the conversation.

The lady scowled. "Hell no! Why would I waste my money on tha...Than! Stefan! What are you doing here, and why in the Hell didn't you tell us you came in?"

"We figured if you didn't notice us, you'd have more important things to do than sit with us; but we did take the table next to you." said Stefan. "Now, do you come over here, or do we come over there?"

They stood up. "Your table is bigger. We come to you," said the Asian man.

They picked up their tea, the Asian man moved his chair to the table of Thanatos, Stefan, and Fenton, and the lady just took the empty chair next to Fenton.

The lady extended her hand. "I'm Deliah."

Fenton shook it. "Fenton."

"Ronin," said Ronin.

Fenton smiled. "Samurai beholden to no master?"

"You know that? Pretty impressive for a European."

"I study a lot of everything," said Fenton. "Now why do you two also have Irish accents?"

Thanatos said, "The four of us all live and work together."

Fenton looked them all over. Deliah was dressed like a hot slut in a black leather miniskirt and a sleeveless purple satin blouse that tied at her waist to flaunt her toned abs, and Ronin was in jeans, socks, loafers, and a white business shirt. Wow! Ronin was the only one who looked like an intellectual, but...

"What are you having?" asked Thanatos of Deliah.

"Rice, garlic spinach, snow peas and black mushrooms, and stuffed mushrooms."

"Garlic naan, veg biryani, mixed Chinese veg, and tempura veg," said Ronin, when Thanatos looked at him questioningly.

Fenton scowled. "Indian and East Asian food in the same place?"

"The mushrooms are Italian," said Deliah. "Warren also makes killer devilled eggs. It's the dill pickles and the capers."

Fenton had a sip of his tea. "I guess I can try that."

Warren came out shortly with two trays of food. The stuffed mushrooms were portabella. "What would you guys like?" Another Irish accent?! This was just too much.

"I'll have your vegetable korma, garlic bread, and jasmine rice," said Thanatos.

"Salad and garlic bread," said Stefan.

"For something other than the devilled eggs that this lady recommended, can I see the menu?" asked Fenton.

"Sure," said Warren, as he put the trays on the table.

Warren walked to the counter, and brought back a menu. Fenton was stunned. "How can such a small place have such a vast menu?"

"I have my ways," said Warren.

Fenton looked it over. "Yes, I will definitely have those devilled eggs Deliah suggested, rice with morels, garlic naan, and cornsilk soup."

"No problem," said Warren, and he left them to go to the kitchen again.

In less than ten minutes, Warren brought everything out. Fenton was astounded. "You're fast."

"I have help," said Warren.

Fenton had one of those devilled eggs. "Very good. Thank you for pointing them out to me, Deliah."

"No problem," said Deliah.

"Thank you," said Warren. "Must go, now. Busy, busy, busy…"

Fenton waved to him. "Late. I will be back."

"Thank you again," said Warren, and he walked back to the kitchen.

Fenton had a bite of everything. "This rice has a lot of mushrooms, and it tastes so buttery. Morels are hard to find, and they cost so much; but this was listed as pretty cheap."

"Warren's not hurting," said Ronin.

Fenton looked at him. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation on the Peloponnesian War. Nobody talks about that. In fact, most people don't even know what it was about."

"A stupid one-upmanship between Sparta and Athens that basically destroyed Athens," said Deliah. "Too bad, but such is life."

"Is there any way the four of us can keep in touch after this?" asked Fenton.

"That would be nice," said Stefan.

"You did want to see our library, right?" asked Thanatos.

"Very much so. What does it contain?" asked Fenton.

Everything relevant. Real history, philosophy, math tutorials that actually explain things in detail, the myths and theology of numerous cultures, proven physics and astronomy, classical poetry and literature," said Thanatos.

Fenton smiled. "I think I'm salivating."

"Who's car do we take?" asked Stefan.

"We could all take our own," said Ronin. "Fenton could follow us."

"It's not that far. We could just bring him back. It's not even eight kilometres," said Thanatos. He looked at Fenton. "What do you want us to do?"

"I can ride with you, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," said Thanatos. "Let's go as soon as we finish up here."

"Thank you for indulging me."

"No problem," said Thanatos.

Ronin and Deliah went in one car, and Thanatos, Stefan and Fenton went in another

*****

Fenton had never been to this neighbourhood. It was upper class, and the tree-lined streets formed a beautiful arboreal tunnel. There had been very little traffic, coming here. Fenton had maybe seen five cars, and there were no cars parked on the sides of this road. There was no one in any of the yards, but it was a beautiful day.

Thanatos was driving, and the car was an immaculate Mercedes-Benz 200D. Fenton had expected Thanatos to ride a motorcycle, of drive a sports car. When Thanatos pulled up to the three-storey, vine covered stone mansion much obscured by trees, he was even more stunned. "I'd hate to see the property taxes on this thing."

"No big deal," said Thanatos. "It's paid for, so it doesn't cost us that much."

"What are the heating costs?" asked Fenton as Thanatos parked the car.

Solar panels in back, and we have a grated windmill to keep the birds from flying into it. Water's from a well, and the place is very well insulated. There're two levels underground. It's cheap to run. I had it built to specs."

"You were the architect?" asked Fenton as everyone got out.

"Aye! A phantasy house of my youth! I've been playing with it in my head since I was a wee one. If you want a complete tour, we can give you one," said Thanatos.

Fenton smiled. "First I want to see that library."

"No problem. It's the bottom level. Then after that, we can all sit around the fireplace with some tea and get to know each other; unless you want to see the house right away."

Fenton said, "Getting to know each other better first, sounds good. I wish I'd met you guys earlier."

"I wish we met under other circumstances," said Stefan.

Fenton shrugged. "Well, you might have ignored me under other circumstances. If it took Frank Wilson plastering me to meet you, it was worth it."

Thanatos gave Fenton a sardonic smile, baring his fangs in the process. "I'd like to talk more about Frank Wilson in a little bit." They started walking toward the front door.

After they walked in, Fenton was impressed by the huge foyer with a marble floor! They went through another door to get to the main part of the house, and it was like a trip to the past.

There was no wall-to-wall carpeting. The floors were wood, and covered with throw rugs. The furniture was in mint condition, but you'd expect to find it in a wealthy household of an ante-bellum southern mansion. There were some things even older.

The walls were covered in tapestries, ancient weapons, and paintings. Some of the paintings had images of the four people who he came home with, but there was a man of light red hair who looked like a colourised Thanatos, and everyone was dressed very strangely in the pictures. They were in costumes of sorts, and Fenton wasn't sure what to make of them. "Is this a modified version of you, or someone else?" asked Fenton, pointing to a picture of me.

"That's Donn Ui'Midir," said Thanatos.

Fenton scowled. "Donn. That's an Irish Death god, and he is the son of Midir the Proud. And your name is Thanatos? This is beyond coincidence. What's your last name?"

"Munster."

Fenton smiled. "Thanatos Munster. That's almost as good as Fenton Pogorzelski."

Thanatos shrugged. "I never had a problem with it. Now, for that library?"

"Please."

No pictures of Warren were in this house for the sake of this all not appearing even stranger to Fenton than it already was.

*****

When Fenton got to the bottom floor with Thanatos, Stefan, Deliah and Ronin, Thanatos turned on the lights. The whole floor lit up with dim electric candles at the end of every bookcase. There were many aisles of books.

"This is impressive. How is it arranged?" asked Fenton.

"First by subject, then by author," said Thanatos.

"Can I look at some of them?"

"Sure. You can even take something home to read, if you so choose," said Thanatos.

"These are all leather bound. How much did this cost?"

"Who knows? I didn't pay for them," said Thanatos.

Fenton said, "This library looks like it's worth more than the house."

"It is, though not necessarily in monetary terms," said Thanatos. "Knowledge is more important than a fancy abode, me thinks; though the fancy abode is icing on the cake."

Fenton chuckled. "If you were a woman, I think I'd ask you to marry me for saying that."

No, Thanatos did not sarcastically say, 'That can be arranged.' Instead, he said, "Thanks, but I'm not available; regardless of gender."

Fenton looked him over. "I can understand."

"By the way, you can come over whenever you like. There's generally someone home," said Thanatos.

"All those paintings. Does everyone in them live here?" asked Fenton.

"Aye."

"Do you have more? I like realistic art styles, though the phantasy depictions are rather nifty," said Fenton.

"We sure do," said Deliah.

Stefan said, "I don't feel like looking at paintings right now. I'm going to the living room after I make some tea. I'll see you in a little bit."

"Same," said Ronin.

Deliah waved at Fenton. "I'm joining those two upstairs, but I can't wait to find out a little more about you. I'm under the impression you're more interesting than most. I might actually learn something from you."

"I hope so. I'll try not to dawdle too much," said Fenton.

"All right," said Deliah. "See you in a few."

*****

"Who's the red head you're fighting in those pictures," asked Fenton.

"Macha," said Thanatos.

"Named after the Irish War goddess?"

"Aye."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"She was," said Thanatos. "We're still friends, but it didn't work out."

"She looks as tall as you."

"She is. I'm also the only one I know of who can tie her at chess besides Deliah, or in the ring with a sword in hand; not that Deliah is much with this type of bladed weapon."

Fenton scowled. "So this is real? You actually fought with swords?"

"Sparred. Macha trained me. She had requirements of her men."

Fenton chuckled. "No doubt." He looked at the next picture. "This one. She looks familiar. Kind of like Sylvia Plath."

"It is Sylvia Plath."

"The Sylvia Plath?"

"The poet. Aye. Ted Hugh's boon and bane?"

"Why is this picture here?"

Thanatos sighed. "Fenton, I think it's time for us to go to the living room."

"Huh?"

"Come on. I think a few things should be explained to you."

*****

"Have a seat," said Thanatos to Fenton.

He did, and Stefan asked, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Maybe in a little bit. Thanatos said he had something to tell me?"

Thanatos closed his eyes, and nodded.

Fenton heard the front door open. I walked in, carrying a newspaper. I was in denim jeans, shirt, and a pair of work boots. I simply said, "Hi Fenton. Looks like you made the paper." I handed it to him.

Fenton scowled. "Have we met?" he asked as he took the paper.

"No need for that. You're famous."

The headlines read, 'Francis Wilson Confessed Killer'.

Fenton dropped the paper in shock. I picked it up, and gave it to him. "Welcome to The Otherside, dude. Guess who was stupid enough to talk about kicking your head in."

"You mean I'm actually dead? But this just happened. How can it make the paper so fast?"

"I'd call you transitioned, rather than dead." I said. "Dead to the world, but not to us; and time as you knew it is no longer relevant to you. I think we're due for some fascinating conversation, huh?"

Fenton put the paper down, and laughed. "I guess so."

I went over to Stefan to pay a debt, before I sat down.

Hitchhiker

I've been standing here for over an hour, and still no ride. I was flat broke, but I had to get home to Parsons, Kansas. I know it was bad at home, but being on the road was even worse.

The abuse from my parents had driven me to run away. Now I was in North Carolina, had run out of the money I'd stolen from mom, and hadn't eaten in two days. I was also a filthy mess.

It was hot, humid, the mosquitoes were torturing me, and nobody was even slowing down for me. Damn! I didn't look that bad...yet. I would pretty soon, though.

The ideal would be to be able to ride in the back of somebody's pickup. That way, at least no one would have had to smell me. The wind would feel pretty good right now, too.

Oh, the hell with it. I'd start walking. Maybe I could clean up at the next gas station.

Should I ask permission to wash up first, or just do it? I didn't have any idea about life on the road. This wasn't anything like the trip Jack Kerouak wrote about. This was living Hell.

I wondered if I could go to the cops and tell them of my predicament, but I didn't know. I was just seventeen, and I wondered if I'd be in even more trouble than I was now? I sure as fuck wasn't going to call home! I'd just show up, and wonder if anyone even noticed I was gone.

I didn't have any trouble hitching out here. Why was I having so much of a problem with getting back?

I was going to try and go to Florida, but things just didn't work out. I figured I might get hired for a few days here and there doing odd jobs, but no. It was like no one wanted anything to do with me. Now I was stuck outside Charlotte, wondering if I'd have to go dumpster diving for the first time in my life for something to eat.

Yuck, but oh well. I gotta do what I gotta do. I was pretty scrawny, and I didn't have any reserves to lose.

I started walking. I was headed for the countryside, it was getting dark, and yeah. I'd wash my spare clothes at the next source of water, along with myself. I had a half a bar of soap left. Then I'd check the garbage in back of the next store or restaurant I came to.

Only problem was, there was no gas station, and no store or restaurant.

I ended up going to sleep in a bed of pine needles a little off the road. It wasn't too bad, other than that something bit me on the arm when I rolled over once. I didn't know what it was since I couldn't see it, but it didn't hurt that much; so I passed out again.

*****

The night had been warm, and I was as thirsty as hell when I woke up. I had the last bit of water from my canteen, and I'd have to fill it up from anything that was available when I came across it. Even a stream! Damn, I was ready to bathe in a stream; cottonmouths be damned. If there were any cottonmouths here, that is. I had yet to see a snake of any kind.

My teeth felt like shit. I'd lost my toothbrush, and ended up cleaning them by scraping them with the fingernail of my right index finger; which wasn't the most sanitary thing I could do, but what choice did I have? I'd lost my toothbrush two days ago. I guess it fell out of my backpack.

I stood by the road for a few minutes, and then kept on walking. Not one car passed me. But something good happened. I found a bunch of blackberry bushes. They were big, and fat, and juicy. Just what I needed!

If I came across any farms, I figured I might raid a field or two; provided whatever they were growing was close to ripe, and there was no one around. They might even have water available.

The blackberries alone were a little boring, but they helped me out. Of course I was a mess afterward, with stains all over my hands and face, but that's life. I walked a little further, and soon I heard some music to my ears. Running water.

I ran in the direction I thought it was, and found a small stream. There was also a dirt road by it that was parallel to the main one I was walking on. It probably intersected a bit ahead.

Well, whatever. I rinsed my hands and off, and had some water. It was very clear, and cold. I filled my canteen, and proceeded to undress. I didn't want to mess the stream up, so I'd pour the water over myself from the canteen, soap up, and rinse with the canteen. After all, I wouldn't want to drink out of a stream that someone took a bath in. I washed my clothes with what was left of the soap as well as I could, and hung them up to dry. I'd give them a couple of hours, and then wear some of them as they were.

This wasn't as good as a cheap motel, but it was better than nothing. Or so I thought until I heard footsteps.

I had gotten into my underwear and T-shirt when two guys came into view. "Oh, shit!" I exclaimed.

They immediately turned away from me. It was two young men who may have been in their early twenties, I guess. One was red-blond; the other was a deep red. "Sorry," said the lighter haired one. Both were in white T-shirts, jeans, and hiking boots.

"No, I'm sorry. I ran out of money, and I was just so gross that I used this to clean up; if I'm trespassing on your property."

"It's OK. Tell us when you're decent," said the red-blond. He had a soft rather high voice, and I nice accent that wasn't from around here. It wasn't that southern drawl, but sounded like something related to the English accent.

I struggled to get into my soaked jeans, and into my tennis shoes with no socks. Man, if these two tried anything; I was ready to fight to the death. I had no qualms about the fact I didn't stand a chance, but I'd still do my best.

"OK, I'm dressed," I said.

Apparently, these two were OK. "You need some help, from the looks of it," said the darker haired one.

"Uh, I guess so. I was stupid enough to run away from home, and I had no idea what I was doing."

The two looked at each other. The lighter haired on asked, "Where do you live?"

"Parsons, Kansas."

The darker haired one said, "That's a bit of a commute." He looked at me. "I'm Stefan, by the way."

"Rhiannon."

The lighter haired one said, "Vergil. I guess you can come with us. We might be able to help you get home, but first let's go to my house."

"I don't have any money, and I don't know when I can pay you back, but a bus ticket and a ride to a depot would be OK."

"We could probably do that," said Vergil. "Why'd you run away?"

"Got beat up too much by my parents. You know the type."

Stefan scowled. "I was in that position when I was younger and we’ve run into more parental abuse victims than we can count, but aren't you a little old for that?"

"They're a couple of drunks. They fight with each other, too. Sometimes they do coke."

Stefan snarled. "Lovely. So all you're doing is going from the frying pan back into the fire."

I shrugged. "Sometimes we have no choice."

"Sometimes it seems that way," said Vergil.

Damn, they were cute. Both had long hair, but Vergil's was longer. Vergil had a heavily layered feather cut, and Stefan had a shag style that must have gone half way down his shoulder blades. Vergil's went halfway down his back, and they both had very thick hair. They were both very pale, were of the same height, the same buffed, slender build, thin lips, both plucked their eyebrows, had cheekbones to die for, but Stefan had a nose enough for all three of us. Stefan also had gorgeous turquoise eyes, while Vergil's were black, with black eyebrows.

They didn't look related. Though their faces had some similar characteristics, they were like night and day. I thought Vergil was little cuter. I loved his faint chin dimple. I fought not to laugh when the two went hand in hand. How cute.

"You two, boyfriends?" I asked.

"Yes," said Stefan. "They have us in North Carolina, too."

Now I did laugh. "Damn, that's funny. I don't care if you're straight or gay. In fact, I guess in some ways it's better that you are gay." Actually, I was kind of relieved. They wouldn't pose any problems for me.

Vergil smiled at me. "OK."

Stefan asked me, "How old are you?"

"Seventeen for another two months."

"You graduate yet?" Stefan asked.

"Oh, yeah. I got pretty good grades, too. Too bad there's no hope of me going to college."

"Why?"

"No money," I said. "We're poor, but we're on the edge where I can't get government aid, and even then..."

"Been there," said Stefan. "That was a long time ago, though. I've found out that independent research is a better way to get educated, but I gotta admit it doesn't do much for getting a job."

"Yeah. I'll see what I can get in a couple of months. Can't wait to get out of the house, but at least it means food and a place to sleep! Most of the time I get the Hell out of there when my parents start to binge, but I can't always do that."

"I'm glad my parents only fought each other, and never took it out on me. Still, it was hard. I love them both," said Vergil.

"I can't stand mine," I said. "One day I might fight back."

"I disowned mine a few years after I was out of the house," said Stefan. "I just dropped them from my life. Actually, the breeder cow cunt who was my incubator; I disowned when I was nineteen. My father and step-mother came later."

"Breeder cow cunt. I like that," I said. "Being one of seven, it fits."

"I hope you're spared being the oldest," said Stefan.

"I'm third. I've got one older sister, and one older brother. When I was little, they used to beat me up too. Then again, I used to beat up my younger brothers and sisters, so I guess it runs in the family."

Stefan looked to the sky. "Ye gods. This conversation has brought back some mighty obnoxious memories."

"Then perhaps we should drop it," I said.

"Might be a good idea," said Vergil. "You can see the house. We have a washing machine and dryer for your clothes, by the way. No one who lives with us is as small as you, but if you don't mind baggy clothes..."

"You'd do that for me?" I asked. I looked ahead, and there was a large, red, one story house just in view.

"Yeah. Why not? It's the way of ancient Ireland," said Vergil.

"So you're Irish," I said.

"I am," said Vergil. "Stef spend most of his life there, but...he...was German by birth."

"Hey!" said Stefan. "Let's call a Kraut a Kraut."

Vergil sighed. "A total Mick-wannabe, who can't forgive his own culture for not doing to Rome what Rome did to Carthage in the days of Alaric sacking it in 410."

"Not to mention the Nazi incident, despite the fact that it was over-rated in the history books," said Stefan.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Germany paid her dues for that, royally. The unnecessary fire bombings during the war, the mass rapes and devastation by the Russians and all after the war?! You gotta dig that up yourself. They're not gonna teach you that in the public school system. A lot of conventional World War II information is Zionist propaganda that never happened."

"Can you tell me more about that?" I asked.

"We have books on it," said Vergil. "You can check them out."

"All right."

We got to the house shortly. It had beautiful gardens, a gazebo, and a fountain out front in a large clearing. It was quite large. Stefan told me more than half of it was underground.

*****

When we walked in, two drop-dead gorgeous women were sitting in the living room. "Hi Del. Kev," said Vergil. "This is Rhiannon, and she's our guest for time indeterminate."

They both waved to me. "Hi Rhiannon," said the black haired woman, who I couldn't believe was from this planet; she was so beautiful.

"Hi. Who's who?" I asked.

"I'm Deliah," said the black haired one.

"I'm Kevalyn," said the red haired one.

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"Same," said Kev.

Vergil said, "Rhiannon needs to borrow some clothes until she can get her own washed and dried, and Del; you're the closest to her size. Can you get something for her?"

"Sure." Del looked at me. "You're a jeans a T-shirt type, huh?"

"Yup. Total tomboy," I said.

"That's not me, but I dress the part some times," she said. She was now in a black miniskirt, a red halter-top, and a pair of black gladiator sandals. I was straight, but if she made a pass at me; I wouldn't turn her down...though I might wait those two months to turn eighteen so there would be no legal issues.

"Thanks," I said. I appreciate it.

"Let me get her some clothes and show her to one of the bathrooms now," said Deliah, as she got up.

"OK," said Vergil.

Deliah took me by the hand, and led me downstairs. There were tons of rooms down there, and most of them were bedrooms that were apparently not being used. Their doors were open, and they all had canopy beds, and really expensive looking furniture. Deliah took me to her room. "You have a choice. Newish, faded, ripped, or somewhere in between."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "Somewhere in between, I guess."

"OK. Black T-shirt?"

"Sure."

Del got me some slightly used looking jeans, a nice T-shirt, some real sexy black underwear, and frilly socks. "Here ya go. If you want more macho socks, you gotta ask one of the guys."

I chuckled. "That's OK. These 'ill do."

"You can pick any room you like that's unoccupied. You can tell, because there won't be any personal decorations, and the covers won't be pulled back from the pillow."

"OK." I looked at her bed. "Are those satin sheets?"

"It's all we use."

"Nice. I guess I'll clean up now."

"We keep new toothbrushes in all the bathrooms for guests. Feel free."

"Great," I said.

"We have one bathroom for every three bedrooms, so use whatever one you like. They're sort of the same, but they have their own nuances. I like easy to clean, so I like the simpler decor."

"Gotcha. I like that idea. Can I share yours?"

"Sure. It's the one next to my bedroom. In fact, the bedroom beyond that is vacant; if you like the convenience."

"Perfect," I said.

"I'll wait for you in the living room, and show you around."

"Thanks a lot. I'll try to be fast."

"Take your time," said Deliah. "We've got forever."

I cleaned up as fast as I could, anyway.

*****

It was so nice being clean after those few days.

When I walked down the hall to go back upstairs, I noticed there were paintings between all the rooms. I noticed they were there when I got to Deliah's room, but I didn't really pay attention. I had my mind on other things. Now, I really looked at them. They were awesome.

There were pictures of Vergil and Stefan, but they were dressed odd in most of them. Vergil was in a strange black dress with leotards, knee high boots, and a sword at his side in most of them. Stefan was dressed in clothes people don't wear anymore, like what they wore in the eighteen hundreds; and he was always in a cloak and gloves. There were pictures of Deliah, and Kevalyn, and an Asian man, a black couple, a gorgeous young man always pictured with a slightly older blonde woman, a beautiful red headed Amazon, and there were these pictures in what looked like Vergil painted white, and wearing red contacts that glowed, or something. Fangs, too! He looked totally beautiful in those pictures, and suddenly I wished he were straight. But then again, with women like Kevalyn, Deliah, and these others in the paintings...if they lived here; how could I stand a chance?

Who were they? I've never seen such a beautiful set of people in my life. They all looked like they should be models.

In a way I wished I could stay longer to study the paintings, but that would be so inconsiderate. I could do that later. I'd ask about them when I got upstairs, though.

Deliah and Kevalyn were in the living room, and was delicious smells were wafting from the kitchen.

"I feel so much better now. I suppose I should wash my own clothes, but first I have a question about the paintings," I said.

"Ah yes. The rest of the family! Ronin, the Japanese dude is my boyfriend," said Deliah.

"He's gorgeous, but so are the others. Vergil also looks great in the white make-up," I said.

Kevalyn said, "That's not Vergil. That's Keith. I know they look a lot alike, but they're not genetically related. Keith is also way taller."

"And he wears fangs?" I asked.

"Implants. His eyes have been modified, too. They glow," said Deliah.

"So that's for real?" I asked.

"Well, he really looks like that, but it's artificial," said Deliah. "Constructed, you know?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Stef and Vergil are making lunch. There's a chance someone else might walk in, in a few," said Deliah.

"Who are the rest in the paintings, if they all live here?"

Kevalyn said, "The tall red headed woman is Macha, and she's my girlfriend, Andre and Tonya are the black couple, the blonde woman and her brown haired boyfriend are Sylvia and Warren."

"Whom is Keith hooked up with?" I asked.

"Vergil and Stefan. They're a threesome," said Deliah.

"Oh my God," I said. It just came out. I didn't intend to be so impolite, but…I shook my head. "No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come down on anybody, but...but...that's...uh...just so unusual."

"It's a long complicated story, and you can read about it later if you want to. Vergil wrote about it in his biography, and it's out as fiction."

"Oh. If I can, I just might do that," I said. That sounded too interesting to let go. "That sure smells good. What's for lunch?"

"Vegetable stew, fresh baked bread, and probably a chocolate mousse pie for desert," said Kevalyn. "This is a vegetarian household, but not vegan."

I shrugged. "I'm not vegetarian, but I don't mind," I said. Just don't tell me what to eat on my own time. Also, now I would take anything I could get. "Are Stefan and Vergil the cooks here?"

"We all take turns. Everybody does everything. We don't have any specific roles, and yes; I do know how to change the oil in a car," said Deliah.

That was the last thing I expected her to say. "So can I," I said. I've had to do it on a number of occasions. I hated it, though. It's gross. "By the way, where is everyone else?"

"Oh, who knows? We all have our own lives, though sometimes we do all get together to work on stuff," said Deliah.

"Din-din," came a call from the kitchen.

The words I've been waiting for.

*****

It was an amazingly thick, rich stew. There was rice, wild rice, corn, peas, carrots, potatoes, green onions, garlic, lentils, turnips, mushrooms, tomatoes, celery, spinach, green beans, and I'm not sure, but from its consistency; I think there was some flour in it. The bread was garlic bread with tons of butter, olive oil, actual thinly chopped garlic pieces, paprika, and Italian herbs. We also had a real intricate salad with everything in it but the kitchen sink, and a choice of coconut juice, lemonade, carrot juice, and a mixed veggie juice to drink. It was great.

If this is what it was like to be vegetarian, I could convert.

The dessert was heaven. I'd never had chocolate mousse pie before, and it was creamier than anything I'd ever had before.

After I ate, I asked, "Can I help do the dishes?"

"It's OK," said Vergil. "We have a dishwasher from Hell. Don't even need to rinse first, unless it's really burned on."

"Then how do I earn my keep while I'm here?" I asked.

"We'll see when something comes long," said Vergil. "Want to go for a ride with someone in a little bit?"

"A ride?" I asked.

"Horse, tall pony, whatever you're comfortable with," said Vergil. "We do that sometimes, and a lot of our visitors like horseback riding."

"You're kidding!"

"No. Why?"

"I've never been on a horse before, but I'd love to," I said.

"I can go with her," said Deliah. "Are you going, Vergil?"

"Nah. I'm working on a painting. Stef?"

"I'm in."

Kevalyn said, "I'd like to go."

"OK, then let's saddle up, and get out of here. We can go to the back of the property, hang for a while, and come back," said Deliah. She looked at me. "You can ride Hesper. That's Vergil's equine buddy. Just don't kick him, and to turn him, all you have to do is touch the rein to his neck. Handle him real gentle, and all's cool. He's real smart. Almost like he can read your mind.

"Sound's awesome," I said.

*****

Hesper. A gold and silver beauty! He even had his hooves silvered. All the animals looked like show horses, and Keith's Gilgamesh was the ultimate; though he was way too tall for me to even think about riding. I was told Gilgamesh had his eyes done up like Keith's for the sake of Keith's vanity, but they were done after Keith found out how easy having red glow implanted was to deal with. Gil was ravishing, with his feathered hocks. A light horse with all that silky hair down the lower part of his legs wasn't something I thought existed. I only knew about Clydesdales. Stefan's grey pony also had feathers, but they were light-gauge. Black feathers, along with a black mane and tail! Stefan's Shiva was also gorgeous, and strangely primaeval looking. Shiva had a stripe down the middle of his back.

I was happy with Hesper. I was told he was an Arab-Connemara cross, whatever that meant. I knew what an Arab looked like, but I never heard of a Connemara pony. He looked very Araby, though was a little stockier and less delicate; so I guess the cross breeding got something better than both.

I would have thought Hesper was a horse, when I saw him. Deliah told me he just barely missed being a horse. Deliah's black stallion was a full-blooded Arab, and he was also not quite a horse.

The ponies and horse were haltered, not bridled. The saddles were also like nothing I'd seen before. They were ultra light, and only weighed a few pounds.

I was told to let Hesper just do what he wanted to do. He'd follow the rest, so don't try to guide him. Just be there for the ride.

It worked. I also can't remember having so much fun.

When we got to the back of the property, there were fruit trees, berry bushes, and a stream. We picked some fruit and ate it there. This property was a little piece of paradise. One thing that was strange; is that I wasn’t bitten by any mosquitoes! They usually loved me.

On the way back, Deliah had the animals run. Going at an all out gallop was a smooth ride, and considering I'd never done it before, I really had a good time, though I could barely walk after I got off. When we were finished with the ride, I got to un-tack Hesper, and clean his hooves. Stefan then told us to get our nose hairs back to the house, and he said he would groom all the animals this time. That was an interesting way to tell us to leave. I thought it was as funny as Hell, but no one else even seemed to take note.

It looked like I was going to learn how to take care of horses, staying here. I loved it.

*****

Deliah and Kevalyn showed me the whole house after we go back to it, while Stefan took care of the animals. There was a sub-basement underneath the level where everyone slept, and it was neat. There was a music studio, an art studio, a library even bigger than the one upstairs, a game room with a chess board set up on one table, Dungeons and Dragons on another, and an Asian game I never heard of called, Go. The room I thought was more awesome than anything, had black walls and ceiling, an alter with a goblet, a ritual knife, candles, incense, and a silver platter with some dried herbs on it, a table with a ouija board, a table with a crystal ball, a silver pentagram inlaid in a black marble floor, and a passage or room that was curtained off in black velvet, which no one volunteered to show me.

"We're nondenominational Pagan," said Kevalyn."

"You hold séances?" I asked.

"Nah. No point for that," said Deliah. "We tend to let the sleeping dead lie."

Kevalyn scowled. "Come on. More like not bothering those who transitioned to a higher realm. You know there's no such thing as death. Finality."

"Ah, yes," said Deliah. "It be true that once something is, it never goes away. It just moves closer to The Source. God, so to speak! The Great Mystery, as the Lakota call it. The Great Unknown! The Lakota are closer to The Truth in that regard, than the major world religions that started in the Middle East. Anyone alive on Earth that says they know The Source, and what messages 'It' has for humanity in the line of dogma; is full of it."

Kevalyn said, "And don't forget how some religions don't like you to investigate other ways. The clergy seems to say that God needs people to be stupid. Don't ask too many questions, you know?"

This was pretty interesting. I'd never thought of any of this stuff. "Good points, here," I said.

It was a cool tour, and these people were fascinating to talk to.

When I got upstairs again, I'd be meeting Keith and Ronin.

*****

Keith and Ronin were sitting on the couch when we got to the living room. Keith had his nose in a book on snakes. "Hi guys," said Deliah. "Our guest is Rhiannon Walsh."

I was wondering when I'd told Deliah my last name. I couldn't remember mentioning it. I didn't know anyone's last name here, for that matter. "Pleased to meet you. I was already told about you. Keith and Ronin."

"Aye," said Keith.

"Pleased to meet you, too," said Ronin.

I thought it strange to talk to an Asian man with an Irish accent, but it was kind of charming.

Kevalyn took a chair, and Deliah pointed next to Keith, and said, "Have a seat."

Oh man, to sit next to something like Keith. Like I was going to turn that down?

He put the book he had on the table. It was opened to a page on coral snakes. I looked at it. "Those are pretty."

Keith looked at me, and smiled. "And deadly. They're around in these parts. Not too bad of a death, considering some alternatives. Respiratory shut down. This is a damn good reference book."

"Speaking of books, there's a book that Vergil wrote; that Deliah told me about?"

Keith scowled. "The Xanon Chronicles? Aye! We can get you a copy. Let's have our tea first, though. Vergil's bringing some out, but wait a minute! "VERG! THREE MORE CUPS!"

"OK. EARL GREY FOR EVERYONE?"

"Sure," I said.

"Don't ask us," said Deliah, as she sat in another chair. "You know how me and Kev love the stuff."

"YES," yelled Keith.

In a couple of minutes, Vergil came out rolling a tray on a cart with tea kettle, six cups on saucers, cream, sugar, and a teaspoon for me. He poured tea for all of us, and handed the cups around, with me getting the first cup. The cream and sugar went on the coffee table. Everyone creamed their tea; but I'm the only one who had sugar. Vergil sat on the arm of the couch beside Ronin.

Keith looked at me. "You're not from here. You're accents not right, and you look like just a kid."

Vergil said, "She's a not quite eighteen year old from Kansas who escaped a home abuse situation. It would be a shame to condemn her to go back to that."

Keith looked at me. "Do you really want to go home?"

"No, but what choice do I have?"

Keith smiled, baring his fangs in the process. "There's always more than one road to walk down. You could give this household a trial run, and figure out what you'd like to do here."

"Like a job?" I asked. I had a sip of my tea. It was way better than the Lipton pekoe I had at home. I was barely aware there was another type of tea, and like hell I'd dare ask my mom to buy something different. I would have gotten yelled at, and maybe even slapped.

"Aye. You know...help with the landscaping, maintenance, the stables, whatever you like."

"You mean I could actually work with the horses...ponies...whatever?"

"Sure, if you enjoy it," said Keith.

"I'd have to be shown what to do," I said.

"No problem," said Vergil.

"Most definitely. Can I call home and tell them I won't be coming back?"

Deliah chuckled. "You can, but why bother?"

I looked at her. "You're right."

Vergil raised his cup to me. "As soon as I'm done, I'm going to get you a copy of my book. It's pretty long, but most think it's a fun read. We'll leave you alone for that, and I can light the fire in here for you; unless you want to go to your room to read it."

I looked at the fireplace. "I'll stay here. I've never been beside a lit fireplace. We didn't have one, and neither did any of my friends. I'm from a poor neighbourhood."

"No problem," said Vergil.

"This is almost too good to be true. This is all for real?" I asked.

"More real than Stefan's nose," said Deliah.

I had to laugh. "What does that mean?"

Deliah asked. "Surely you don't think that thing is natural?"

I laughed even harder. "You mean Stefan paid for that nose?"

"Rhiannon, he's making US pay for that nose. You would not believe what that honker means to him," said Keith.

"Oh my God, but he's still pretty cute," I said.

"I'll have to agree," said Keith. "One thing you will have to put up with being with us,is Stefan's alleged nose fetish, and his cannibalism jokes; which may involve you every once in a while."

"Alleged nose fetish?"

"It's an ongoing joke that will never end," said Deliah. "It's just part of the package, but Stef's a pretty nice...um...whatever it calls itself that day. Usually a nose."

"Oh," I said. "OK." Small price to pay! Actually, I couldn't wait until Stefan got back. He sounded like he was going to be a blast. "Is he still out with the ponies?" I asked.

"Aye," said Vergil. "We don't ride too often, but when we do; we compensate the horses for it. Most of the time the animals run free, and just come in when they feel like it; or when we call them for a ride. Usually we groom our own after a ride, but if Stefan's doing all of them, it'll be a while. We really treasure the animals."

"I've never seen such beautiful horses, or ponies. Not even on TV. Or anything so smart, either," I said.

"Any animal can show extreme signs of intelligence if you spend enough time with it," said Vergil. "They end up coming to think like you, to a degree; and you'll end up understanding each other. It takes devotion, though."

"Yeah. Like look what the Lipizzans do. I saw a documentary on TV about them once. Incredible," I said.

"Aren't they, though," said Deliah.

"Gilgamesh is more impressive looking than the Lipizzans," I said.

"Would you like to ride him one day?" asked Keith.

"He's so big, I don't know."

"He's got a smooth gait, and none of the animals trot when they have a rider. You'd be OK."

"Maybe," I said.

Vergil stood up. "I'm done with my tea. Let me get that book."

"Thanks," I said.

He winked at me. "No problem. I know exactly where I have a copy." He left us for a moment.

*****

"Here it is," said Vergil, as everyone stood up. "If you need or want anything, just give a holler. Someone will be there,"

It was a huge book bound in black leather, and gilt in silver. It looked so pricey; I almost didn't want to touch it. "Looks expensive," I said.

"Don't worry about it. There's many more just like it," said Vergil, as everyone started walking out of the room.

"All right," I said.

"Oh, and the fire." Vergil pointed at the fireplace, and it just started.

"How did you do that?!" I asked, in total shock.

He just smiled, and said "You'll read about it in the book."

Now I really had to get started on this.

*****

A real story sold as fiction? Okaaaaaaaay. An Irish myth I never heard of is real? Whatever.

Hesper was the pony I rode. Who was Donn Ui'Midir, though?

OK, Donn became death.

What did this have to do with Vergil? Keith was described, but as a shape shifter?

"Vergil?" I called.

He was with me in seconds. "Yes?"

"I thought this was supposed to be an autobiography, but it just seems like a faery tale. You have Keith, and Macha, but they aren't people in this story."

Vergil shrugged. "Neither am I. Keith, Thanatos, whatever he goes as for the occasion, left a hint on what happened to you when you passed out in the woods last night. The snake book?"

I scowled. "Keith is Thanatos?"

"Me and him go by two names. Stefan also goes as Stephanie when 'it' wears a feminine body. We are shape shifters, and Gate Keepers. You were bitten by a coral snake, and you're such a petite thing; that it killed you pretty fast after you passed out."

"I remember something biting me, but this is just too weird."

"You're in the Etheric Realm. You aren't on Earth anymore. There also is no reason to work here, because if you want something; all you have to do is concentrate on manifesting it. I can teach you how to do that in no time via a mind share. Keith just said you could work here to make the moment more believable for you in the then-there. Also, I see you would like me to do something to prove to you what I'm saying."

"Uh, yes. I was thinking that."

A new cup of tea appeared before me, and suddenly Vergil was dressed in that black 'dress', leotards, boots, and sword that I saw him with in, in the paintings. "How's that?" he asked.

I smiled. "Wow! Yeah, I think that verifies what you said."

"I'll sit with you a while, while you read some more of that. I'm sure you'll have a few questions."

Indeed I did. By the time I got to the end of the book, the one I wanted to ask more than anything; I couldn't bring myself to ask.

HOW CAN YOU NO LONGER GO TO BED WITH ANYONE, YOU TURD?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I didn't qualify for Keith.

Poo!

Oh, well. I still couldn't complain. Especially after I found my real new home was an awesome museum in a huge castle...until I got sick of it.

Would I ever get sick of it, though?

Cook ‘Em All...Let The Chef Sort ‘Em Out

It was nineteen thirty-three in the Ukraine. The time of the famine! Sergei Litvinov and his wife Dasha had been at the end of their ropes. They had nothing left after the Soviet Union had taken their land, and their only daughter was doomed to starvation anyway. She'd been five years old. They weren't the first, and they wouldn't be the last; but they ate her.

The child's name had been Bodana. Surgei and Dasha had loved her very much, and felt awful about what they had to do before the event, and more so after she'd been turned into a salted stew with a handful of lentils. Neither Dasha nor Sergei dealt with it too well for the few days their act had prolonged their lives. Sergei and Dasha died of starvation anyway, within a few hours of each other in the back of what was left of a barn...though Stefan...and the now transformed and transferred and Bodana wouldn't let them know that.

*****

Stefan, in his usual Victorian quasi-Count Dracula outfit rode in a well maintained looking, almost empty hay cart pulled by a rather annoyed Shiva and Hesper next to the very adult, and rather attractive looking Bodana; who he'd taken on earlier. The cart only had some food and cooking supplies on it. Bodana had talked Stefan into taking on her parents; after being subjected to the worst repertoire of cannibalism jokes she ever heard; though she did end up laughing over most of them...after she was reconsolidated with herself.

The two ponies did not appreciate being 'cart horses', and payback would be long; but that would be later.

The ponies stopped in front of the Etheric mirror image of the ruins of the barn where Sergei and Dasha had chosen to die on Earth, and Stefan got out. He walked over to the two, who were lying hand in hand. He kneeled down, and smiled over how close they were. There was obviously a love between them that was rare.

Stefan time tripped back to the moment Dasha had died. She ended up 'giving up her ghost' before Sergei, and Stefan placed a wet rag on her forehead; making her think she had been discovered, not that she appreciated it. After all, she and her husband had come here to die. Both were wracked with guilt, and both hoped to see their young daughter again in Heaven.

Well, it wouldn't quite work that way; but Stefan thought his idea of dealing with these two would be close enough.

Dasha was weak and hungry by her own design, as she 'woke up'. "Leave us," she said to Stefan. "Please leave us. We've suffered enough."

Stefan looked at Bodana, and winked. He looked back at Dasha. "Nonsense. Let me get you some bread, cheese, boiled eggs, grapes and wine from my cart. I can take you both home and feed you better, after that." His accent was strange.

"No. Let us die. You have no idea what we've done."

'Oh, yes I do,' thought Stefan. "No, it's all right."

Bodana, who had been sitting by her father; got up. "Let me get the food. Let's let the man sleep a little longer. After he wakes and eats, then we can take them home." She walked outside, unhitched the ponies, and gathered some foods and eating utensils.

"How does that sound?" asked Stefan.

"No. Go away. You have no idea how evil we are, or the mortal sin we've committed." said Dasha.

Stefan did all he could not to say what was going through his head, which was, 'You proved my theory on children being good for famine protection'. "Save it for God," said Stefan. "Now we must get you fed so you might be strong enough make it to our home."

"How do you still have a home after the Russians?"

Stefan smiled. "We're smarter than they are. You're cold."

"Very."

Stefan stood up. "Bodana is coming back with the food and drink. Let me build a fire outside, and make us some tea."

Tears trailed down Dasha's face. "Our daughter's name was Bodana."

Stefan caressed her hair. "It'll be all right." He struggled not to say, 'So was the name of your last lunch'.

"No it won't. Everything is very bad."

"It'll get better," said Stefan.

"Our country's been overrun, we've had everything taken from us, and there is no food, and people have to do awful things to survive. How can things get better?"

This was torture for Stefan. Though how badly he wanted to, he could not say, 'You gotta die some time'. "Nothing lasts forever. No moment is frozen in time," he said. 'Just out of time,' he thought. "I can help you."

"You best help us by letting us die."

Bodana walked in, then.

"Is the bread still warm?" asked Stefan.

"Yes," said Bodana. "I brought the butter for it."

"Good. You put out food for this lady, and I'll go to the cart to get the things to make some tea."

"Good idea," said Bodana.

Dasha, though for how she said she wanted to die; could not help herself in not eating. She ate all she could. It had been a long time since she ate this well, and the wine was very good. Bodana watched over her father as Stefan made the tea outside.

A piece of Bodana wanted to 'wake' her father, hug her parents and tell them the truth about what was happening, yet a part of her was enjoying Stefan's game. She and Stefan had a long philosophical discussion on life and death, and they had done a mind share before they came here. Bodana knew it was better for the Truth to wait a little while longer. Let her parents become acclimated to what reality was, as opposed to throwing it all in their face at once. She knew it was better to go slow most of the time, from when Stefan had shared some of his past experiences as a Gate Keeper. People ended up appreciating their new realm a bit more when they weren't suddenly shocked into it from the get-go.

Sergei 'lost his ghost' when Dasha had finished her first cup of tea. Bodana was at his side, and helped him sit up.

"We've been rescued," said Dasha to him.

"I was hoping to be dead," he said.

Bodana said, "Well, you're not; and there's no longer a reason to wish that. We have some food, wine, and the tea is still hot."

"Who are you?"

"Bodana."

Sergei frowned. "Like my daughter," he said sadly.

"She's dead, I assume," said Stefan.

"Very," said Dasha.

Bodana looked at Stefan, and shook her head. 'Dude! As you say, this is driving me nuts,' she sent to him telepathically.

'Yeah, and all these set ups for all these killer one liners your parents are giving me that I can't respond to? Man, I thought this was going to be the case of my dreams; and it ends up being torture.'

'Don't make me laugh.' Bodana turned to Dasha. "I'm sorry to hear that. Your daughter starved?"

"Almost," said Sergei.

Stefan looked at Bodana, and raised his left eyebrow. 'Were you done up Kosher before they threw you in the pot, by the way?'

'Stefan! We aren't Jewish, and if you keep that up I'm going to throw something at you!'

Stefan gave her a surreptitious smile. 'I love a feisty woman.'

'I’ll give you feisty, you little shite.’

‘After this case is done, please.’

Bodana smiled. ‘So I'm a pretty good case for what you call an entree, huh?'

'I only call 'em entrees when they're alive on Earth, and under sixteen. You know that.'

'OK, Stef! Back to my parents, please.'

Stefan put some food on a plate for Sergei, and gave it to him. "Here. After you eat this and give yourself a little time, we'll take you home with us. We always have enough food."

"Why do you do this for us?" asked Dasha.

"Because we found you, and if you like; maybe we can employ you," said Stefan.

"You have a farm?" asked Sergei.

"We grow food, but we need help for the stables."

"We had to eat our horse," said Dasha. "It was sad. He was a pretty dark brown gelding with a black mane and tail. We called him Misha, and he was very friendly."

No, Stefan did not say, 'My God, that's worse than eating your kid,' which actually was the truth in his way of thinking. "I'm sorry to hear that. I would rather die than anything happen to my pony. Shiva is a very good friend of mine."

"Misha was a very good horse. He worked hard, and was gentle. One has to survive when they can, though," said Sergei. “He was starting to go hungry, too, though. The animals aren’t spared the famine.”

"Well, hopefully we can help you survive," said Bodana.

An hour after Sergei had his dinner, everyone went to the cart; Stefan rigged up the ponies to the cart, helped Surgei and Dasha on, and they were off.

*****

They travelled about fifteen kilometres, with the ponies trotting most of the way. The landscape grew greener and lusher as they got closer to their destination. "I've never seen these fruit trees," said Sergei.

"Well, we have the orchards out here; and the vegetable gardens by the house," said Stefan. "We have everything we need."

"And nothing was taken from you for the collective?" asked Sergei.

"No. They missed us because of the regular forest in front, and they will keep missing us. We share everything we can, anyway," said Bodana.

"How big is your family?" asked Dasha.

"Everyone who stays with us is family," said Stefan. "It's a communal household. Everyone does what they want to do to help, and everyone gets what they need."

"Sounds nice. This place is beautiful," said Dasha. "Is this part of your land?"

"Yes," said Stefan. "Everything up the side road is ours. The house is just up ahead."

"We thank you for this," said Dasha.

"No one should have to suffer like you did, or go through what you went through," said Bodana.

"I couldn't agree more," said Dasha. "It's horrible to have to kill something you love for food."

'Depends on how you love them cooked,' thought Stefan. "I can only imagine," he verbalised. Of course he couldn't help but think, 'Olive oil, scallions, garlic, tomatoes, red bell peppers, Italian seasoning...mmmmmmmmmmmm. Oh yeah! And butter-baste 'em, too. The baby, of course; not the horse! If I were still alive, I'd kill myself before I killed a horse; unless it was a euthanasia case.'

"Probably not, from what we've been through," said Dasha.

Stefan looked at her, and smiled. "One thing about life. We're all just passing through. If you're not here, you're somewhere else. Life is just another part of the journey back to God."

"You're with God or the Devil, if you're not here," said Sergei.

"I think more on your way to God," said Bodana. "I don't think the Devil is like what the Bible says. I think the Devil is just a dark part of yourself."

"I don't know about that," said Sergei. "I think he's real. Look at what Genesis says."

Bodana shrugged. "We'll find out when we get there. Here's the house."

"You have a long road to it," said Dasha. "It's big."

It was a white two-storey mansion with columns in front, and a porch that went from end to end, and partly around the sides of the house. It had twenty-four rooms, with the upstairs being mostly bedrooms. There was a fast running stream behind it with a water wheel to provide power. It was off the grid, and self-contained.

"It has to be," said Stefan. "All our help gets a room of her or his own. Servants' quarters are in the house. Also, we all eat together."

Dasha smiled. "Very equitable arrangement, huh?"

"There's no reason to be otherwise," said Stefan. "It's all symbiotic. Everyone is equally important. If someone went missing, everyone would notice."

"That's a rare way of looking at things," said Sergei.

"Too rare," said Stefan as he pulled the cart in front of the house. "You can go in with Bodana, and I'll be in as soon as I put the horses up; after I help you to the front door."

"All right," said Sergei, as both Stefan and Bodana helped Sergei and Dasha out of the cart, and onto the porch.

Stefan took the cart in back, and unhitched the horses. Stefan split himself up into three via the time trip technique. He was quite good at that by now. One version of him took care of Hesper, one of Shiva, and the third went back to the house. The parts of him taking care of the ponies would be busy for quite a long stretch, according to Stefan's conscious perception of time.

After the version of Stefan that was taking care of Dasha and Surgei got back in the house, he started the fire, and made more tea. "Let me check the kitchen if there's any lentil stew left from last night," he said.

Sergei and Dasha looked at each other. Lentil stew, of all things! They'd wished it had been something else, considering their last meal before meeting Stefan and Bodana had been lentils and their own Bodana; whom they didn't know was sitting before them.

Dasha shrugged. "Only lentils, I hope," she said to Surgei.

Stefan heard that. "Lentils, potatoes, onions, carrots, parsley, garlic, butter, black pepper, and a little salt. Good with bread. Fruit after."

"Sounds pretty good," said Dasha sadly. If only Stefan and Bodana had come by a week earlier. Or four months earlier! Then they still would have had a horse.

Stefan walked into the kitchen, and came back with a cart holding two large bowls of lentil soup, a warm loaf of bread, butter, a basket of peaches, apricots, apples, and grapes and a plate of dried figs, as well. Dasha and Sergei appreciated it quite a bit.

"Tomorrow, if you're strong enough; I can show you the stables and the horses," said Bodana. "The food should make you gain beck everything you lost, pretty fast."

"I'd like that. Where is everyone else?" asked Sergei.

"They're working. They should be by before dusk. No one is from here, by the way, except for Bodana. Not even me, as you can tell from my accent. We're not all white, either."

"It doesn't matter to us," said Sergei. "Where are you from?"

"Originally Germany, but I spent most of my time in Ireland. That's why the accent," said Stefan.

Germany. Nothing but trouble with the war, but Russia was worse. Much worse. Dasha and Sergei were of Russian descent, but they considered themselves Ukrainian. "Were you ever a soldier?" asked Sergei.

"No! Not in this life."

Sergei smiled. "You have more than one life?"

"Many more than one," interjected Bodana. "Reincarnation."

Dasha shrugged. "I've heard of that, but I don't know if I can believe it."

Bodana chuckled. "You can always change your mind later."

"Maybe if it's proven to me after I'm dead," said Dasha.

Warren, Sylvia, and I came in right after she said that. "Hi Stef, Bodana," I said. "Oh. Guests! Hello!"

"Hello," said both Dasha and Sergei at the same time.

"I'm Vergil, and this is Sylvia and Warren. Welcome to our home," I said.

"After they regain their strength, they can help us with the horses," said Stefan. "They almost died in the famine."

"Silly country politics," I said. "Good. Our spoiled equine masters could use a little more attention."

Later Andre, Tonya, Ronin, Kevalyn, Deliah, and Macha showed up. Thanatos decided it might be better if he waited to meet Dasha and Sergei after they were informed of their state. We all got to know each other to the degree it was conducive, and we would have a hearty dinner after.

When it was time to retire, Stefan and Bodana would help Dasha and Sergei up the stairs to show them where the four shared bathrooms and their private bedrooms were, though of course they would only use one bedroom. In the unlikely event each wanted to be alone for the night, they had the option, not that they would stay here long enough for that to happen.

*****

Dasha came to bed with Sergei. "Indoor toilet is nice. So is the shower. I never dreamed I'd be able to get something like a bath every day without hauling and heating the water," said Dasha.

"Everybody is very nice. Bodana sure seems to like us a lot. She looks a little like you."

"More than a little. I can't wait until I'm strong enough to help around here. I never knew this place existed."

"Neither did I. I know we didn't come by this way very often, but I never saw the side road they took. Maybe it's new, because this house looks pretty new."

"But all these fruit trees. They would have been here a long time, and I never saw so much fruit at the market."

"Who knows? Let's get some sleep so we can be ready to see the stables tomorrow."

"Yes, lets."

*****

After Dasha and Surgei got up the next morning, they were treated to a hearty breakfast. We had spinach and mushroom omelettes, potato pancakes, bread with butter and peach preserves, they got served sausages which no one else had, and we had buttermilk, tea, and apple juice to drink. Dasha and Sergei were also surprised at the fact that they managed to come down the stairs without help. They were getting around better on their own.

After breakfast, they were eager to see the stables. Stefan ran ahead of them, and Bodana walked with them. It was a large, clean barn; and there were no horse droppings anywhere. Dasha and Surgei were pretty impressed. Before they got inside, Bodana stopped them. "Wait a minute. Stefan and I have a surprise for you. STEFAN!" she called.

"CALL HIM!!!!!!" yelled Stefan.

"MISHA!"

With that, a tall, beautiful, very dark brown horse with a black mane and tail came trotting out, and he nosed Bodana before walking up to Surgei. Stefan ran out behind the animal.

Surgei was confused. "He looks and acts like my old horse."

Bodana looked at him. "Father, this is your old horse. You and mother starved to death despite the fact you ate both of us, not that I would have lasted much longer if you hadn't killed me."

Stefan reached them now. He looked at Bodana. "Hey, Lunchmeat! Did you tell them yet?"

"Stefan, if you call me that one more time, I'm gonna make lunchmeat out of your NOSE!!!!!! Yes! Some of it, anyway; being it’s so big."

Dasha was confused. "What are you saying? You can't be my daughter. She was only five."

Stefan said, "She looked like a five year old until we made her aware of what had happened. This is the Etheric Realm. There are no children here. Only eternal souls! The illusion of youngsters exits only in the Physical Realm. You two did die in your old world, but me and your Earthly daughter didn't let you be aware of it when it happened."

Surgei scowled. "Oh."

Dasha looked at Bodana. "So that's why you look like me. Will you forgive us for what we did to you?"

Bodana opened her arms. "Oh, I love you both. Desperation makes people do things, but soon you'll know everything. The three of us go back a long way, and we planned everything that happened before we were born."

Both Dasha and Surgei stepped into Bodana's embrace, and Misha moved forward to gently grab hold of Surgei's shoulder with his teeth.

Stefan than said, "Hey Misha! Let go! I thought animals tended to give up food when they come here, and even if you don't; aren't you supposed to be vegetarian?"

Misha let go, and looked at Stefan with a snort.

Bodana raised her left eyebrow. "What's this thing about what goes around comes around?"

"Yeah, riiiiiight," said Stefan.

No, Misha didn't bite Surgei again. It ended up being a wonderful reunion, though.

Sometimes Hazard Pay Don’t Cut It

My name was Julia Kordan, and I was a...uh...how shall I put this? Independent contractor?

OK, I was a whore. Plain and simple! Lady of the night! My working name was Jezebel Baphomet. My image was dark occult.

I was eight and twenty, drop dead gorgeous, rather exotic looking for a white chick; with jet black hair, pale skin, and the greenest eyes I ever saw in my life. I also had a limited shelf life, and was oh so aware of it.

I was sick. You couldn't tell by looking at me, but I was ripped up inside; and I could feel it all.

I was one of those who worked for her self. I pushed the envelope to the limits on my profession, and I charged very high prices. I did it all, and I was good. I was worth every cent of the four hundred an hour I demanded.

I didn't walk the streets. I didn't have to. I had a steady clientele of twelve very rich customers who saw me on a weekly or bimonthly basis. It was a nice, luxurious living...for a price. I was doomed to a short life, but what there was of it; was going to be a party.

Today I would have a new client, introduced by an old client. Who needs commercial advertising?

*****

We met at The Equinox. Nice circular restaurant that was on top of a hotel, and spun around slowly. It was expensive, and to my taste. I dressed in a short, black silk dress that left little to the imagination, a black shawl, black stockings, and black, cross-garter, stiletto sandals. I wore a pentagram around my neck, and a Baphomet ring. I wore black lipstick, and my eyes were done up Egyptian style.

His name was Corbett Sattler, and he was here on a business trip.

This one was a potentially dangerous one. He had a sadistic streak. He liked to slap and choke, in addition to a few things less than comfortable for me. "If you leave any marks, your going rate is doubled," I told him.

"No problem. I won't, and I might pay the double rate anyway...if you measure up."

I raised my champagne glass to him. "I like that kind of talk."

"I sensed you would." He handed me a little jewelry case. "And I hope you do your best."

"I always do," I said.

The case contained a sliver chain with a black onyx teardrop with a silver rose on it. This man knew what I liked. I thanked him for it, and blew him a kiss.

*****

I ate light. I didn't want a protruding stomach, and I didn't want to feel tired. I also only had one glass of wine. I never had more before a 'date'. I had to be fully functional, and my stamina had to be at its peak.

He took me by the hand, and took me to his hotel room. He was one of those who had to show who was in control. They were my least favourite type of client, but hey! If they paid enough!

This one had me for the whole night, and his fee would cover my flat's rent for a month and a half.

*****

Oh, Corbett was rough, all right. Nothing I couldn't handle, though. The money he gave me, more than made up for it. Apparently I was good enough for him. He 'commissioned' me for a whole week, and paid me more per hour than I requested. The agreement was seven hundred an hour, twenty-four hours a day, for seven days...as long as I never left his side, except for when he was at his business meetings. Then he'd leave me at a mall with a credit card, with a certain place to be at a certain time for him to pick me up. Of course he told me I'd 'better' be there.

Of course, I was.

*****

The last night, he said, "I think I want our last night at your place."

"I don't let me customers come to my private residence."

"It's not like I don't know where you live. You have a very nice view overlooking the bridge from your eighth floor balcony. What's the deal? I bet you have a mirror on the ceiling."

I'd never told him where I live, but his description was enough. I've never been home once since I'd been with Corbett. I haven't had to go. He bought me everything I needed. I had a whole closet full of new clothes. Did he check my wallet unknown to me? Probably, knowing him. I didn't like it one bit, but what could I do now? I smiled. "In fact, I do. I have lots of mirrors. I'm a very vain creature, as if you haven't noticed."

He put his right forefinger under my chin, and raised my head, and smiled back. "What if I pay your rent for the next five years if you do, plus allow me to reserve you every time I come out here."

Dare I trust him? Did I have a reason not to? Did I have any choice in what was going to happen in the next twenty-four hours?

Well, he was a control freak. He was a paradox. He gave me a lot, but I had no freedom of any sort when he was there. He led me around like a dog on a leash. I couldn't stand him in bed, but like he'd implied; he didn't leave any marks. The money was soooooo good, his offer was hard to resist. Maybe I could start taking a few days off on my own terms, and still live my expensive lifestyle.

"Sure," I said.

*****

"You don't eat much, when I take you out," said Corbett.

"I want to look my best for you. No tummy sticking out."

"Tonight, I want you to forget about that."

"I also want to be able to take care of you in the way you want, without feeling lazy."

"This is our last night, then I have to go for six months. I'll do all the work tonight. Why don't you tell me what to do this evening, huh?"

"Are you for real?"

"I would hope so. You're special to me. I've never met anyone like you. So mysterious, and beautiful! If I didn't have a wife, you know?"

Not that I wanted to be kept in a cage, gilded or otherwise. A couple of weeks a year of this was all right; but not my whole damn life.

I didn't tell him that. I never enjoyed myself so much over dinner, though. I ate so much, that I made myself sick.

*****

Corbett picked up my crystal skull on the coffee table. "Neat. You're really into death, huh?"

"I’m into being evil, and hedonistic." I said.

"Jezebel. Perfect name for you! So, how evil are you?"

I chuckled. "Haven't I shown you?"

"I suppose so. Do you have any champagne?"

"Only the best. From France, even. The real stuff."

"Do you have a housekeeper?" asked Corbett.

"Hell yeah. Twice a week! This flat is huge. I don't have time to clean it. I'm too busy pampering myself, when I'm not working."

"I see."

"Now let me get that champagne. Would you like it chilled?"

"Please."

I went to my bedroom first, put all my money in the safe, then off to the kitchen. I got an ice bucket out, filled it, and put a bottle of Brut Vintage Laurent Perrier Champagne Sparkling. It cost me almost a hundred twenty bucks for the thing, but Corbett more than paid for it.

I brought two glasses out, and went back for a cloth and the bottle. Before I sat down, I asked, "Shall I light some candles and incense?"

"That would be nice. You took a long time."

"This bottle cost me over a hundred dollars. You think I'm just going to leave it laying around with my cheap stuff?" It was a lie, but an excuse.

"I suppose not."

I lit those candles, some musk incense, then sat down next to him. He'd uncorked the bottle, and poured me my drink. In our pre-bed making out, he was unusually gentle this evening. I liked that. It was also out of character for him. I should have known better...as the light started to fade from my state of consciousness.

*****

When I woke up later, there was a very strange looking man sitting in the chair by the foot of my bed, asleep. Gods, but he was beautiful.

He was as white as snow, along with his hair. He did have nice, trimmed looking dark eyebrows, though. He was in a tight black T-shirt, badly ripped faded jeans, and platform boots that may have added two inches to his height. His head was tilted sideways.

What was he doing there?

Me? I was under cover, and naked. There was blood on the sheets, the bedspread, and blood on me. I also felt like crap. I felt like I'd had the living daylights beaten out of me. When I looked down at myself, apparently I'd had. I was bruised, cut up, and I hoped nothing had been broken.

I looked at the man. "What are you doing in my flat?"

He jumped. "Huh?"

My God, his eyes glowed red! "I said, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY FLAT?!" (OK, she said 'apartment'. I'm paraphrasing, BUT THAT'S HOW I...THE WRITER OF THIS SERIES TALKS, OK???!!!!)

"Oh, uh...I just moved in, and I heard some screams and thrashing around here. I'm next door. Your door was open, and when I called out some guy attacked me, and ran out the door. I found you on the floor, kind of messed up. I cleaned you up a little, put you to bed, and decided to stay with you to make sure you were OK." What a gorgeous voice and accent.

"Thanks. I don't think anything's broken."

"I hope not. Looks like he tried to wring your neck. I have some salve back in my own flat so you don't scar."

My neck did feel sore. I sat up, and looked in the mirror above me. Some of the flesh was torn. My face was also bruised. "God damn, I am NOT seeing that man again. I'm also going to drop the shit that introduced him to me. This isn't worth any kind of money."

"What do you do?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'M A WHORE!!!!!!"

He stood up. "OK. I guess you're all right now. I'll see you..."

"NO! STAY! I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just got bamboozled and beat up by the best paying customer I ever had. I'm just glad I put the money he paid me in the safe right after I got here...like right before I got our drinks."

"Hopefully that's still OK."

"My closet. Can you check it for me?" I pointed to it.

He got up, and walked over to it. He opened the door, and looked at the ground. "That huge grey thing about a square metre?"

"Yeah."

"Has a few scuff marks on the front, but it's there."

"Corbett probably wanted to rob me of everything he gave me, and then some. Well, it didn't work. I just hope he won't be back."

"That is a potential problem," said the man.

"I guess I have to start carrying my gun."

"Can you shoot on sight?"

"I don't know."

"That's probably what it will take with a psycho like that."

"I'm probably history."

"Not necessarily. I can help you out some. Let me go to my flat, and get something for your wounds."

I smiled. "And maybe I'll give you a free night."

He stood up. "I don't think that's necessary. I'm Keith Munster, by the way."

"Jezebel Baphomet."

He chuckled. "Cute. Be right back. I'm locking the door behind me."

He walked out.

Cute? Not exactly the image I wanted to convey.

*****

I got into some underwear, and a robe. I wouldn't be able to work for a couple of weeks. I couldn't service anyone looking like this. Oh, what a mess I was. I'm just glad it was only flesh wounds, but how many scars would I have? Damn, I might have to start charging lower prices.

I heard a knock on the door a few minutes later. "Keith!"

I looked out the peephole. Yup! I let him in. "Hiya. Shall I put some coffee on for us?"

He scowled. "I'm not much of a coffee drinker, really. I can tolerate the stuff, but I'd rather just go back to my place and get us some tea."

"OK. I'm good with either. Later, then! What have you got for me?"

He held up a jar. "A witches brew. Make you as good as new."

Until my diseases started catching up with me! "Thank you. Do I owe you anything?"

"Hardly. Why do you Americans think everything is conditional?"

"It's the way most of us operate. Everything's a trade."

"Not to me."

"Then you can apply the stuff to my wounds...if you're careful," I said.

He chuckled. "If you can't offer yourself to me, you take me?" Damn, he had fangs.

"Yeah, I'm thinking along those lines; but it's not politically correct for you to say so."

"Since when was I politically correct? I call a spade a spade, madam."

"I think I like you."

"I know I like you, but hey. Do you want to sit or lie for the application of the ointment?"

"I think I'll lie. Let me put some towels on the bed."

"OK."

"By the way, what's with the teeth and eyes?"

"Strictly cosmetic."

"Looks good. Interesting. Now let's get on with healing my wounds."

"Will do."

Damn bastard only did what he said he'd do.

*****

The salve felt real good. Keith's touch felt even better. Beyond gentle. Good Lord, and he must have been the prettiest thing I ever saw. I think he may have been prettier than I, and how dare a man be that way?!

Aaaaah, so buffed! I saw every muscle under that tight T-shirt. Damn, how I wanted him. "Got a girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Which?"

"Both."

"You play both sides of the street, huh?" I asked.

"Used to. Prefer not to, now. Not in the way you're thinking."

"What other ways are there?"

"Now is not the time to tell you that."

"And you're not for sale, huh?"

"No. I think I'm also done with you. Every raw spot is covered up."

"I do feel better," I said. In fact, some internal problems felt better, too. Parts of me only a good doctor could have fixed, or at least mitigated. Some of my problems were beyond repair.

I smiled when I remembered Corbett had refused to wear a condom the last half of the week. I suggested he should, but he wouldn't hear of it. I hoped he caught everything I had.

"Good. I wouldn't want to make a liar out of myself. So, shall I be off now?"

"Hey! You said something about tea later?"

He smiled. "Ah, yes. Shall I bring some over, or would you like to get dressed and come over to my place?"

"I'm curious as to what your place looks like."

"It's simple. Yours looks like you're a Satan worshipper or something."

"Let's leave it at the or something," I said. "Let me get into some regular clothes.

I threw on a T-shirt, some jeans, and walked over to his place with him, barefoot.

*****

Keith had a couple of guitars on stands, an amp, some wires, a simple couch, a coffee table, a large bookcase, and a chair in his living rooms. That was it. No knick-knacks. It was Spartan, and easy to clean. He motioned me to sit down, and asked, "Earl Grey, chai, China black with mango, Darjeeling, or green?"

"Never had the China black with mango. I'll try that."

"Cream and sugar?"

"Please. You're a musician, I assume?" I asked.

"Among other things. Non-commercial, though."

"Can you play something for me later?"

"Sure, if you don't mind Irish folk from a bygone era."

"So, you're Irish, huh? I'm open."

"Half, " he said.

"What's the other half?

"Greek."

"Interesting."

"Let me put the water on."

"OK."

*****

Keith brought out a tray with two cups, cream, and sugar dispensers, and a couple of pieces of Boston cream pie.

I loved Boston cream pie. It was my absolute favourite. "Oh, thank you," I said. "So kind of you."

"I'm sorry, but I wanted some, and the traditional Irish way is one of sharing."

"I like that. Shall I wait for the tea?"

"No need. Dig right in."

"OK, I will." I did. After switching the pie Keith gave to me for his. After last night, I wasn't going to take any chances.

*****

I ended up going through three cups of that tea. It was a novel flavour, and I loved it. When would I see it again? It was so sweet in its own right; I found on the second cup that it didn't need sugar.

After that, Keith set up his guitar. He checked the tuning, and after he started playing; I swear I got lost in the music. There was nothing like that on the radio. He blew Led Zeppelin out of the water, and they were my favourite band.

I'd never heard anything like it anywhere. It was magical. I don't know for how long he played, but it took me out of time. It took me out of my own reality, and the memory of what had just been done to me. I forgot everything. This was even better than getting wasted.

When he stopped, there were tears in my eyes.

"You all right, Jezzie?"

Jezzie. I liked that. I wiped my sleeve across my face. "Uh, yeah. That was gorgeous. What style is it?"

"It's from a forgotten past. Music of the Tuatha de Danaan! It's lost to most."

"You could become a billionaire if you went public with that."

"For what effect? I have everything I need. Why want more?"

I was silent for a moment. "Security, I guess."

Keith put his guitar on the stand. He sat down next to me. "Security? There is no security in life for life's sake. Look what your last...um...client did to you."

Back to reality! He was right. "And I still might be in danger."

He yawned. "Maybe."

"Do you use those fangs for anything?"

"I suppose if I snarl at someone who challenges me to a fight, they might back down."

"Is that all?"

He cocked his head. "I'm vegetarian. No. I don't bite."

"I'm almost sorry to hear that." In more ways than one!

"About being vegetarian, or not biting?"

I laughed at his response. "Never mind."

"I noticed you have a picture of Anubis in your living room."

"Yeah. I was in love with him and ancient Egypt when I was a kid."

Keith tilted his head. "And now?"

I had to think about it for a moment. "I live exclusively for myself, so I guess I'm in love with myself. I also like my apartment better. I think it's cozier. Wanna go back to it?"

"Sure. It is better decorated and has quite an aesthetic appeal. Let me bring over a box of tea with us. You can have it."

"That China black mango?"

"Sure."

"Thanks. I've never had tea that good."

"Well, tell me when you run out."

"Why thank you."

*****

We went back to my place, and sat in front of that picture of Anubis. "It's a beautiful painting," said Keith. "Are you into any other Death gods?"

"Not really. I'm not into Osiris, Hades I don't even like, and uh...let's see. Whom else do I know about?" I had to think a moment. "In school I heard about Hel...uh, I learned about Shiva at an Indian restaurant from one of my clients, and I've read a little about Thanatos. Shall I get us something to eat?"

"Not hungry, but thank you."

"Who are your boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Vergil Xanon, and Stephanie Shannon."

I chuckled. "That rhymes."

"Coincidence. We work together. I'll introduce you in a little bit."

"You're not embarrassed by me? By what I do?"

Keith scowled. "No. Why?"

"A lot of people don't want people to know they know a hooker."

He shrugged. "Why? It's just another job. Not legal here, but so what?"

I smiled. "What if I fall in love with you?"

"Then you do. I already love you, but not in a way you're familiar with."

"What do you mean?"

He patted the space beside himself. "Oh, get over here."

I took that invitation like iron to a magnet. "This is OK?"

He put his left arm around me. "It's fine." He looked at me, and traced his right index finger down my nose. "You asked me a question earlier, and I guess I'm going to stop wasting our time and show you the answer so we can get a move on."

"What was my question?"

He smiled. "What other ways are there?"

I had to reflect on that question, before I remembered the conversation. "Is that an invitation to make out?"

"Depends on how you look at it. Let's say I will share a part of myself with you, but it's not something you're immediately familiar with?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Ye gods, no. Just close your eyes, and relax. Let your mind go."

I nodded, closed my eyes, and leaned into him.

Something very strange happened to me, then. It wasn't physical. It was all mental!

A whole new world opened up to me. I felt inundated with a love like I’d never felt before. I felt completely at peace and in bliss I couldn't imagine I could feel.

I wrapped myself around him, and he embraced me back. Suddenly I knew things I couldn't have known before. I saw things in my minds eye that I couldn't have imagined. I saw myself lying on the bed, naked, and ripped to shreds. I saw police, and a newspaper headline regarding my murder. I saw Corbett Sattler in police custody. And I felt protected. Sooooooo protected. Like nothing was ever going to hurt me again.

Keith...Thanatos! My now dear, beloved Thanatos! With me, out of time! Showing me what other ways there are...the only way there is...of showing how much one can love another, short of laying down their lives for them...if not beyond that. Showing me a new way to become one. The only way!

When we separated, I was in tears. "I'm not alive anymore, huh?!"

He stroked my hair. "Not as you were. It's OK, though."

I hugged him again. "I know."

White Wolf

Stefan stretched out in the grass under and elm tree, in Tir na nOg. "We haven't done a case in forever. Wouldn't it be fun to give a torture victim who was cut into a lot of pieces the illusion of being glued back together again with Epoxy, one piece at a time?"

"NO!" said Thanatos. "We are NOT going to do that, and you are NOT going on a solo mission to do that."

Donn closed his eyes, and shook his head. "Stef, I have NEVER met a Gate Keeper who likes messing with people as much as you."

"How's about that chick in Minnesota I'm picking up, who ended up as Purina Wolf Chow?" asked Stefan.

"Good catch, Stef. I wouldn't mind doing that one, but I don't think I'll let you near her. You're feeling a bit too playful for anyone's good right now," said Thanatos.

"Be that way!"

"Always. Why don't you find yourself a jerk that deserves you! That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, you do have your uses," said Thanatos.

"Oh, maybe later," said Stefan."

Thanatos ruffled Stefan's hair, leaned over, and kissed him on the forehead. "OK. And if you find someone, you can entertain us by telling us what you intend to do with them BEFORE you do it, right?"

"Will you stop me?" asked Stefan.

"Not necessarily. If the person is enough of an asshole, we might even join you and escalate the nature of your case. Now let me take on the nice lady you wanted to taunt."

"I'd say 'be that way' again, but I just did."

Thanatos chuckled. "As if that stops you! Later, Steffie-poo."

*****

"Mom, I'm going stir crazy. I'm off for two weeks, the snow's let up, and I am just sick of being cooped up in house. I'm going for a hike out back."

"OK, Marta. I wouldn't go too far, though. It's been one hell of a winter, and you never know what you're going to run into. Some of the animals might be getting desperate, and we do live in the outback."

"All I ever see in the winter is deer. I got a decent Christmas bonus. I ought to buy them some hay to put out."

"Marta Svenson, don't you dare. That's all we need for the garden. Deer to eat all our winter vegetables! I do all I can to discourage them, and you want to invite them over for dinner?"

"Some people have them FOR dinner." I've eaten venison before. Sometimes dad would go hunting, and bring a stag home. Yeah, it tasted good; but they were so pretty. I felt kind of bad about eating it, but it was dead, so why waste its life completely? I'd rather dad didn't hunt, though.

Damn, I couldn't wait until I could afford to move out of this house. Maybe next year! I almost had enough saved to do a down payment on a house. Then I could feed any critters I liked. And what was mom worried about? I'd never seen a wild predator in my entire life, except for those in the zoos. I wouldn't eat any more deer. If you can buy something that was raised specifically for slaughter, why waste the wildlife? Save it for those wild predators that I never see.

I was in my thermals, parka, gloves, mittens, winter boots, and I had a ski mask on. It was close to zero degrees Fahrenheit out there, and this was the way to dress. I was planning on walking a couple of miles down a trail from the back yard, then coming home.

Our land was nice. We lived in a forest. I had no idea where our land ended, and our neighbour's yard began. No one cared. We were all friends. "OK, mom. I'm going. Be back in a couple of hours."

"OK, honey. Be safe."

"Mom, I never even heard a wolf out here."

"Later, then."

"Bye."

I went out the back door, and trudged to the path through the woods. The snow wasn't too deep, but I still wondered if I shouldn't have taken the skis instead of walking?

Well, it was too late now. I wasn't going to go back, change into my ski boots, and all else.

*****

It was harsh, but beautiful. Everything looked so clean and fresh. We were due for another storm in a couple of days. That was OK, though. We had two months worth of food in the cellar, a generator, and six chords of firewood. We've been snowed in before, and other than me, mom, dad, and my sister Anaka driving each other nuts some times, it could be fun. We got to listen to dad tell stories of his childhood, and his time in the war. That, and my plant would be shut down. I'd get an unanticipated vacation, because everyone else was snowed in, too.

I wasn't moving very fast. I was taking in everything I could. This walk was almost a mystical experience. All I could hear was my footsteps. I got lost in my thoughts. When I finally looked at my watch, I found an hour had passed. I ended up walking a little further than I'd planned. I might make it home just before sunset.

I turned back. Mom was expecting me in an hour. I moved a little faster, because I didn't want to worry her.

I heard some branches break. I froze. This was not good.

A stag raced by, not too far from me, but why?

I found out too soon for comfort. He had a pack of five wolves after him.

Wolves, here?! It was unheard of. No one in town had ever seen one in the wild. I guess the numbers were increasing due to their protected status in this state. Was mom a prophet now, or something?

Wolves usually try to avoid people. Usually. In this case, one strayed from the pack, and came over in my direction. I think I had a problem on my hands.

The animal didn't look too good. It was starving. I think it wanted me on its menu.

It acted strange for a wolf. I didn't think it was normal for one to desert the pack, but if it was weak enough; I don't know. Would it desert the main hunt for more helpless prey? I didn't like this. I liked it even less as it approached me, and snarled.

Another animal rushed forward from behind me. It had ignored me, and went straight for the wolf that was approaching me.

It looked like another wolf. A big white one! It ran up to the grey wolf, and nosed him. There was no hostility between the two animals. They didn't make any noise, but the grey wolf ran off, and followed his pack. The white one walked in front of me, and sat down.

I didn't understand this. This was not right. Wolves didn't act like this. They also didn't look like this. This snow-white animal had red eyes. Glowing red eyes, in fact. He also looked at me like he wanted me to pet him or something.

I scowled. "Are you a dog that looks like a wolf?" Nothing in the past few minutes had made any sense.

Of course, the dog, or whatever it was; didn't answer me. It raised its right paw, and didn't put it down.

I had no clue what to do. Was this an invitation to 'shake'? Was this a dog? Was this someone's pet?

Whatever. It may have saved my life. I walked over to it, and stroked it on the head.

It put its paw down, and shook its head. It was male, and he was not a threat. "Mom will have a fit if I bring you home, but dad and Anaka will love you." I got down and hugged him. Damn, he was more beautiful than any dog or wolf I ever saw in any zoo or any pictures. He was also well fed. He must be a pet.

Hopefully no one would mind if I borrowed him for the night. He deserved a meal for what he did for me. We could afford to give him a couple of steaks or something. Who knows? He might even win mom over. He was very polite, whatever he was.

"Will you come home with me?"

He stood up. Yeah, he was a wolf. He was too big to be a dog. He was huge. He came up to my waist. His shoulders were a little higher than the top of my hipbone, and he had a heavy build. I'm glad he was on my side.

Damn, it was getting dark. I had to move faster. The disruption of my hike took longer than I’d realised.

*****

There was no way I could make it home before sunset. I'd get yelled at, but I had a good excuse.

Oh well. Only a year or two at the most, and I'd be on my own. I was saving almost all of my money from work. I'd find something I could afford. I just wanted a little two-bedroom house, but lots of land. I'd plant fruit trees, and I'd make sure I had lots of brambleberries. I loved raspberries. They were one of my favourite fruits.

As I continued, it took me a while to realise that the snow was disappearing. I was so focused on getting home; I didn't take note of my surroundings. It was also getting hard to see. There were no lights in these woods. I had no idea about the snow, but I couldn't have too much farther to go. I was walking at least twice as fast as when I came out here, and when I checked my watch; I found I'd been walking for a little over half an hour. I wouldn't be able to check that watch for much longer. It would be too dark to see the hands. They didn't have that glow in the dark coating that some had. I hoped I wouldn't get lost in what I had left to travel.

I was getting very warm, too; which was odd. I was walking fast, but not running. I couldn't be generating that much heat. The temperature should also be dropping. It didn't seem like it, though.

I took off my ski mask, and put it in my pocket. I actually didn't need it right now. The cold air wasn't so hard on my lungs, either. It seemed more like early-Autumn air, rather than early winter air. I looked up, and there were leaves on the trees.

No! This wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening!

'Just keep walking, Marta. It's OK. Don't worry. Everything's all right.' The voice was a masculine soft tenor with an Irish accent. It would have been comforting under other circumstances. Now, it made me freeze.

"Who's there, and how did you know my name?" I asked in a mild state of panic.

The wolf stopped with me. 'It's me. The white wolf at your side! I'm a telepath, and I'm sending you my thoughts.'

I looked at the wolf, and he was looking up at me with a strange reassuring look. I kneeled down, and put my arms around his neck. "Are you for real?"

'Yes. I saved you from experiencing being ripped apart by an Omega wolf who was on his last legs.'

I stroked him behind the ears. "Are you someone's pet?"

I heard a chuckle in my mind. 'Not any more, and we're not going to where you came from. We can't go there anymore. You're in my world, not that this is a bad thing.'

I scowled. "What are you talking about?"

'Don't you notice that there is no more snow, that it's warmer than it should be, and the plants are in leaf, bloom, and fruit?'

I stood up. "Oh, no! What about mom, dad, and Anaka? Where am I? What are you?"

'A shape-shifter who rescued you from a wolf! As for where you are, I can tell you; but it won't mean anything to you.' The wolf sat down.

I was suddenly a bit afraid. "Is this a dream, or is this for real? I mean, this only happens in the movies!"

'And in legend! I usually don't move this fast in telling people they were transferred to another world, but you would have realised it in a few moments after the path becomes cobbled stone. I don't have much of a choice in telling you now. Also, your night vision isn't good enough to deal with this dark.'

What he transmitted to me was true. I was almost blind, now. But what was I in for? I was also getting incredibly hot. I took off my mittens, put them into the pockets of my parka, and unzipped the parka. "What about my family? My mother is expecting me any minute."

'You'll meet later...eventually. Somewhere. Now, you're just going to...um...have to live with the fact that you were transferred to another realm with the meeting of the wolves. The Realm Of Fey.'

"I must be dreaming. This can't be real. I mean, the weather being different, and me talking to a werewolf? It's not even a full moon!"

The wolf rolled over on his back, and I heard laughter. After he recovered, he asked; 'Oh, you surely don't think you're talking to the likes of Lon Chaney's character?!'

I suddenly felt a little bit stupid. "Uh...I guess not. For one thing, you are a wolf; and not a furry person with fangs and claws."

'I do have fangs when I look like a person. My eyes still glow red too, but rest assured. I'm a vegetarian. I have my unusual, almost daemonic characteristics for cosmetic reasons. My old girlfriend used to get a real kick out of what I looked like.' He rolled over, and lay on his stomach.

"You have a girlfriend?"

'Now? Um. Sort of! I'm not available, if you're asking; not that you are, but you might ask later.'

"Why on Earth would I do a thing like that?" I asked.

He got up, and sent, 'Never mind. Let's go home to the castle.'

"Castle?"

'Aye.'

"How did you get your accent?"

'Ireland is where I spent a bit of my existence. I was raised with it. Put your hand on my shoulders, and I'll guide you so you don't fall on your face.'

A seeing-eye wolf! Great. Who would believe this? We started walking, and just like he said; very soon we got to a cobbled path. "What do you look like when you're a person?" I asked.

'White, tall, thin side, well-muscled, long hair, and my face is kind of on the effeminate side. I darken my eyebrows and lashes some times. I'm considered pretty. I'll show you later.'

"You smell odd. Perfumed."

'Sandalwood. Always.'

This was getting interesting. My curiosity had overridden any fear that I'd felt, not that my fear was really that pronounced. Not after the encounter with the wolf, anyway. My life or wellbeing hadn't been threatened after that. Now what was disconcerting; was that I couldn't understand what had happened to me. I guess I'd find that out soon enough. "Do you have a name?" I asked the wolf.

'I have two names. I sense you'd rather call me by my Welsh name. Keith.'

"That's a nice name," I said.

'Thank you! I like it. Keith Munster, in full. I already know you're a Svenson.'

"That's kind of neat how you can read my mind."

'That fact would make some very nervous, but I'm glad you don't object.'

"You have been very nice to me, as long as this doesn't end up something like Little Red Riding Hood. But you did say you're vegetarian."

'I love animals too much to eat them.'

"I don't like eating wild animals. If we can get something from the store, why shoot a deer?"

'To me, all animals are the same. What is the difference between the soul of a deer, a dog, a cat, a sheep, a pig, or a cow?'

"I never thought of that." Damn, this wolf was pretty enlightening.

'There're torches up ahead around the next bend. The path will widen, then we cross a bridge over the moat. That parka is really bothering you. If you like, you can drop it where you are. I'll take care of it later.'

"You don't mind?"

'Not at all! If I did, I wouldn't have suggested it. It's cool here, but not as cold as a Minnesota winter.'

"OK, thanks." I took my parka off, dropped it, and we walked on. I scratched Keith's coarse fur.

'When we get to the bridge, I'll transform into my more regular self,' sent Keith.

"OK. I can't wait."

I heard another chuckle. 'Not that you have a choice, but the wait's not long.'

Even though I didn't need him as a guide wolf anymore, I still had my hand on him. In a way I did that for the sake of personal comfort, not to mention it was so cool to walk next to a tame wolf. "Are you going to morph into a person like on the TV shows?"

'I suppose I could, but I've never done it like that. The concept sounds absolutely disgusting. I think my way is better. Do it all at once.'

"I'm not going to argue."

When we got to the bridge, I stepped back from Keith. One second he was a wolf, the next he was the most gorgeous man I ever saw in my life; dressed in bell bottomed jeans, harnessed biker boots, and a black work shirt. He still had the red glowing eyes like he said he would, and though that was weird, it looked great. "OK. This is what I usually look like," he said.

"Wow! You really are a pretty one."

"And the owner and architect of this castle looks almost like me, except that he's shorter, ebony eyed, and otherwise colourised. His hair's red-blond. And no, he's not available either. His name's Donn Ui'Midir. This place is called Tech Duinn, or The House Of Donn; in your language."

"You look pretty young. Is he older than you?" I asked.

"No."

"How did he afford something like this at such a young age?"

"Rich family."

"Oh."

We walked across the bridge, through the open gate, through a short tunnel, into a gorgeous courtyard. There were flowers, shrubs, torches, fountains, and it was huge. "Want to see some of the castle before dinner?" asked Keith.

"Sure. With all the excitement, I'm not even hungry anymore."

"The castle's like a museum. There are rooms dedicated to the best of every notable culture that ever existed in your era. Needless to say, you'll only see a very small part of it now. There's also a library, living areas, a huge garden, a skating rink, and a mini-golf course out back. You may occasionally run into a horse, or some other animal in the halls, but it's OK. A few critters stay with us, and they don't mess the place up."

"Sounds like I'm going to enjoy this."

"I'm sure you will. First, I'm going to show you the pictures of those I live and work with. Those are in a lot of the halls."

"Are they shape shifters too?" I asked.

"Yes. In fact, anyone can be one. You just have to know how it's done, and that's very closely guarded information these days. Same with telepathy! It's not an exceptional ability. It's just that people forgot how to do it. It's like a lost language."

"Interesting."

*****

I saw Donn in many of the paintings. Some were self-portraits, some were done by a person called Thanatos, tons were done by a Stefan, a few by a Macha, and others. Donn was usually painted in a sexy black silk tunic that had long, loose sleeves, and varied in length from thigh high, to just below the knees. He wore boots and leotards with it. Donn looked like an angel.

There was one who couldn't seem to make up its mind on what gender it wanted to be. Keith told me he was usually Stefan, but occasionally took a feminine form to be called Stephanie. 'It' was painted both ways, and boy; what a nose it had. 'It' was still very attractive, however.

Then there was Macha, Kevalyn, Tonya, Ronin, Deliah, Warren, Sylvia, Andre, and Percy, who Keith said was usually a cat. Percy looked a lot like Quentin Collins, and I thought that was funny. I saw a picture of a pretty black house cat and a sabre-tooth cat that I was told were the forms Percy started out as, and usually wore. Percy was quite impressive as the sabre toothed cat. I couldn't wait to meet him.

There were others, but Keith said they were hardly ever here; so he'd get into them later. He told me all about them, including the fact that Sylvia is a famous poet. I wasn't really into poetry, so I didn't have a clue. The only poets I knew were Poe, Shakespeare, Vergil and Dante. That was only because we had to read about them in school.

These halls were awesome. Everything looked factory fresh. It was so clean, with no dust or dirt anywhere. It was all lit up by torches; and there were actually fireplaces in the halls! Where two passages crossed perpendicular to each other, there was sometimes a round room with doors intercepting them. It was trippy to be in this little room with four doors that led in different directions. It must be fun to close your eyes, spin around, and then have no idea where you're going.

Or maybe not! The floors spanned acres and acres. Going in the wrong direction could be very time consuming. Then again, if I were left alone, I'd be lost. I had no idea where anything was. To me, this place was a complete maze.

Keith showed me some open balconies, covered balconies, a well protected walkway that you could see 'the Ocean' from, though he neglected to tell me which ocean; and it didn't occur to me to ask. He took me to rooftop gardens, bridges and skywalks that connected the upper parts of the multilevel building, a very tall tower with no windowpanes, and it seemed like the night never ended. He also showed me the garden from up high. It was wild.

There were endless paths, a gazillion gazebos, and fountains, and statues, and trees, and I couldn't see the flowers too well, but Keith said they were eternal and perfect. I also got to sit in some of the royal rooms of eras past.

I felt like I was in paradise.

"We're almost at the dining hall," said Keith.

"This place is so wonderful. Why did you bring me here?"

"You live here, now."

"I do?"

"For as long as you want, and like."

I scowled. "Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

Keith sighed. "Let's have dinner first with whoever decides to show up. Then I'll explain everything. Or maybe you'd rather find out by reading Donn's book. It's quite an entertaining read, but just don't get any ideas about us. That was then, and this is now."

"What is the book like?"

"An autobiography sold as fiction. It's pretty funny for the most part. It does delve into a few things I now wish had never happened, but oh well. They made me what I am today, so I guess it wasn't all bad."

"Great. I love to read, but I have a question. We've seen so much, but how come I'm not tired or even very hungry?"

Keith looked at me, and smiled. "Being here tends to make some people forget all that."

"I can see why. How in the Hell do you remember all of these halls?"

He shrugged. "Necessity."

"It must be like trying to memorise an encyclopaedia."

Keith chuckled. "Trust me! It's not that bad. The most important thing is to remember what floor you're on. Most of this is a dedicated museum. Not much is true living quarters. That's the only thing that's critical. First floor, third floor, and sub-level two are the only places you have to know about, and you learn fast where everything critical is. From here, we’re going to the dining room."

"Do you know what we're having?"

"East Asian food is popular with us. Oriental, and Indian too! Rice is a standard, various veggies cooked different ways...tempura, stir fry, veggie soups, butter dishes, kulcha, naan, fruit juices, tea... A cultural mish mash is the norm."

"I don't even know what kulcha and naan are."

Both are a type of bread, usually with onions, or garlic and herbs baked in."

"Sounds good."

"It is. The next right is the dining hall. We will probably just be able to sit down and eat."

Keith was right. Donn and Stefan were the only ones there. "Welcome back, you two," said Donn. "Marta, I hope Keith showed you a good time."

"Very much so. You know me?"

Donn smiled. "We're all telepaths, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," I said.

Stefan than asked me, "Did Keith tell you yet that you're dead due to the wolves ripping you apart, and that he gave you the illusion you experienced to save you from experiencing the ordeal?"

I scowled. "What?!"

Keith crossed his arms. "Stefan, one of these days..."

Stefan smiled. "Hey! Didn't I just save you the trouble of explaining it to her?"

Keith looked at me. "The cliché around here is, 'Where is that rolled up newspaper when you need one.'"

"So I'm dead?"

"Not really dead. No such thing. Once you are, you never go away. Well, eventually you do reconsolidate with where you came from; but nothing ever dies. It only transfers closer to Home," said Keith.

"Suddenly everything seems to make sense. Everything that had me so confused, you know?"

Keith nodded. "I bet. Let's chow."

I smiled. "OK."

The dinner was great, and I ended up really liking Stefan. Yes, he could be a jerk; but damn he was funny if you had a taste for the gruesome and iconoclastic.

I read The Xanon Chronicles after dinner. Once I started, I couldn't put the series down. Man, existence here was going to be better than anything I could have imagined.

Loki, Eat My Dust

Oh, what a sight the five of us must have been. Donn was using Thanatos as a pillow, I had my head on Donn's midsection, Reggie the archaeopteryx was on my chest, and the feline Percy's head was on my midsection. We were in a meadow in the shade of an elm tree. I had my eyes closed, and was scratching Percy's neck. Suddenly, I felt something gently stroke my nose.

I opened my eyes. Reggie had just nosed my nose. 'Hmmmmmmmmmmm!' he transmitted to me. He turned his head sideways, and opened his sharp-toothed mouth just a little bit.

"Reggie, if you bite my nose; I'll never let you sit on me again."

'It is tempting, some times. Considering the way you enhanced it, and the way you talk about it being a virtual god, and all? How focused you are on that damn thing?'

"Don't go there, Reggie," said Donn.

I gently brushed my finger down Reggie's nose. A bird with a nose! How nice. "It's only a game, Reg," I said.

Reggie pressed his nose against mine. 'Well, maybe my nose doesn't like the competition. Ever think of that?'

"Dude! You got a pair of nostrils. The tip of your beak less face is called a nose, but it's not like there's anything really there!"

Yes, that one did get my nose bit, although rather gently. 'Nothing there, my tail feathers! Nothing there but some verrrrry sharp teeth.'

"Ouch!"

Reggie let go. 'I didn't hurt you, you twit. It's not like I bit down real hard and pulled, or tried to shake.'

Donn laughed. "Will you two knock it off? I thought you were the best of friends!"

Reggie pressed the side of his face against my face. 'We are. I can do guerrilla theatre too, can't I?'

"Yeah, but isn't messin' with Stefan's nose kind of pushing the envelope?" asked Thanatos.

'I could take that nose out with one lick,' sent Percy.

"I hope you don't," I said to Percy.

'Hell, no. I like my slaves in tact.'

"You're doing wonderful things for our egos, Percy," I said.

'OUR egos,' sent Reggie. 'As if your nose has it's own.' He tilted his head as if to get ready for another nose bite.

I gently moved Reggie further down me, and sat up. I pressed my nose against his. "Well, maybe it does!"

'And I'm a tyrannosaurus!'

"You could be. After all, you are one of the few critters who actually will use your abilities as a shape shifter to shift shape," I said.

Reggie looked up. 'And perish this thought, but you could actually shape shift your nose big enough so you could contain the Universe or all of reality in your right nostril.'

"REGGIE, SHUT UP!" yelled Thanatos.

"Hmmmmmm! That reminds me. I think it might be fun to take a case, and give it a nose theme," I said.

'Oh, dear,' sent Reggie.

"Reg, I don't know if I'll ever forgive you for giving him this idea," said Thanatos.

'You think I'll forgive myself?' asked Reggie.

Percy, Thanatos and Donn sat up. Donn said, "I hope you don't."

I stood up. "Yes! I shall create a temple to The Holey Order Of The Septum, and I shall find a case deserving of initiation!"

Donn doubled over, Thanatos brought his hand to his forehead, and shook his head. "Ye gods!"

I smiled, and changed gender. I would do the next case as a woman. Heh-heh-heh.

*****

Alfred Ramirez fell on the sidewalk as he ended his run across the street. The ten-year old lad almost got himself hit by a pick-up, and he was well aware of his close call with mortality! Maybe he'd start listening to his mom, and being a little more careful. He picked himself up, and found he only had a slightly scratched knee.

Damn, it was hot. He wanted a pop, but when he checked his pockets; he only had fifteen cents. He'd have to go home.

Alfred could take the short cut down the street through an alleyway that only had room for one car, with a huge old ramshackle abandoned house on it; or he could backtrack. His mother did tell him the alley way wasn't safe because who knows who could be lurking there, but Alfred was pretty thirsty; and it was so much shorter to go that way. Of course, being the pragmatic kid he was, Alfred took the short cut.

He ran to the alleyway. There were nine houses on one side of the street which had their back yards walled off, and three on the other that had their front yards facing the little side street. The abandoned building had a large yard. Alfred hadn't been this way in a few months.

Before Alfred turned down the alley, he looked around and made sure no one who knew him was around. He then ran down the narrow street.

When he saw the old house, he stopped. The lawn was mowed, it had a fresh paint job, all the boards were off the windows, most of the upstairs windows were stained glass, the roof looked new, and it was obviously lived in. It looked very nice. The yard had the sprinklers on, and I; in a long black hooded robe was sitting on the front porch at a table with a pitcher of iced lemonade on the table, house cat Percy in my lap, and a golden eagle was perched on the rail of the porch.

Alfred's curiosity got the best of him. He walked through the sprinklers. "Hey lady! Did you just buy this house?"

Call me lady again, and I've got a crock-pot on the counter just for you, buster! "Last month. Aye! I'm Stephanie, by the way." Oh, I'm gonna have me some fun with this one.

"I'm Alfred." He looked at the bird. "Is that an eagle?"

I got up, and put Percy on the table with my lemonade on it. Alfred hadn't seen the cat, because it blended in with my robe. "Aye. His name is Reggie." I went over to the bird, and petted him on the back. "He's a golden eagle, but he's tame. He's never hurt anybody."

"Wow! Can I pet him?"

"Sure can. Want me to get another glass so you can have some lemonade?"

"Please?" Just what he needed!

"The cat is Percy. He's pretty nice, too. Be right back."

"OK." Alfred went slowly up to Reggie, and petted him on the neck and back. Reggie just stayed perched on the rail, and closed his eyes.

Percy meowed, and Alfred looked at him. "You want me to pet you, too?"

Percy meowed again. Alfred went back to the table, sat in the chair that I wasn't using, and put his hand in front of Percy's nose. Percy came closer to Alfred, and started purring very loudly. Alfred's attention went to the cat.

When Alfred looked around the porch, he noticed the doorknocker was a ring hanging from the nostrils of an iron nose. There was also an iron effigy of a nose over the door. He remembered me having a very large nose. Alfred chuckled.

I came out with a large glass filled with ice extra cubes. I poured Alfred some lemonade, and refilled my own glass. "It's half juice and half water, so it'll be pretty strong. I use regular sugar to sweeten it."

Alfred had some, and there was a lot of pulp in the glass. "This is better than what mom makes. I like your cat."

"Percy is my familiar. I'm a witch."

"Do you worship the Devil?" asked Alfred just before he finished his glass

I laughed. "Lord, no! Most witches worship nature gods. Devil worshippers usually call themselves Satanists. I'm the High Nostril of The Holey Order Of The Septum. I worship noses." I refilled his glass.

"What's a septum?"

I pointed to mine. "This thing that separates the nostrils." How DARE anyone not know what a septum was?!

Alfred knew it was a little impolite, but he just had to laugh. "I never heard of that." He had a few more sips of his freshly filled glass. The pitcher was now empty.

"It's a pretty new religion. The only thing to it is that if you're a good nose when you die, you get a nose hair coat and you don't have to be born again; and if you're a bad nose, you get reincarnated with bald nostrils." Having to say that with a straight face was a trial.

Alfred put his glass down, he was laughing so hard. "Nose hair coat?"

I shrugged. "I don't know why, but nobody seems to take that seriously. I mean, how many nose hair coats are there in the world. Can you imagine how much they'd be worth?"

Alfred shook his head, still laughing. "I wouldn't want one. That is gross!"

I crossed my arms. "The nose hairs are cleaned off, OK? No snot! They're put on a spinning wheel, weaved on a loom, and depending on the different colour nose hairs; you can make very pretty patterns."

Alfred was beginning to control himself. "Do you have one? A nose hair coat?"

"No. I was a bad nose in my last life, so I'm still alive here and I have bald nostrils."

"My father cuts his nose hairs. He doesn't like them."

I brought the back of my hand to my forehead with as much dramatic flair as I could muster. "And he doesn't give the trimmings to me? Not to mention that nose hairs should not be trimmed. After all, they are sacred." I narrowed my eyes, and looked at Alfred. "Your father is a very evil man!" My voice was as histrionic as possible. I coulda been in a nineteen twenty's talkie.

Alfred was taken aback. "For trimming his nose hairs?"

"Well, if he doesn't belong to The Holey Order Of The Septum, maybe not; but those initiated into The Order cannot trim their nose hairs, or they get excommunicated. Now I'm hungry. I want a sandwich. You?"

"What kind?"

"What kind do you want?"

"Roast beef?"

"Sure," I said. "Be out in a couple of minutes." I got up, and went inside.

Alfred finished his second glass of lemonade, and started petting Percy again. "Stephanie is nice, but crazy," he said to the cat. "I never heard anything so funny. Nose hair coat. Sheesh! I love her voice, too. The accent?"

Percy stretched his head to Alfred, inviting him to be 'scent marked'. Alfred had a cat, and knew what Percy was doing, so he pressed his forehead into Percy's. Percy then rubbed the side of his cheek on Alfred's cheek.

"You're a nice cat. You're pretty big, too. A lot bigger than Pumpkin."

Just then, Reggie flew to the Stephanie's chair, and jumped on the table. He managed to not knock anything over, and he walked next to Percy.

Alfred was stunned, as Reggie lay next to the cat. Both animals pressed themselves against each other. Alfred stood up, and moved the glasses and pitcher as far away from the animals as he could. "You two are friends, huh?"

Reggie made a sound that almost sounded like a trill, and Percy nosed Reggie's neck.

When I came out, I was carrying a tray. On it were napkins, two plates with sandwiches, garlic dill pickles, another pitcher of lemonade, and salt and pepper potato crisps. There was also a platter with some tuna fish, and a platter with a little bit of raw meat. "Apparently, we are going to have to hold our plates in our laps," I said as I put the tuna fish and raw meat on the table. Reggie and Percy looked at me, and then slowly ate the food I brought out for them. Reggie sent to me, 'I don't think this was necessary. You didn't have to feed us, and I think eating is kind of repulsive in my old age.'

‘And I’m struggling not to hiss and roar at you for feeding me this,’ sent Percy.

'Just try to roar in that form, babe. Anyway, please finish this just once. It’s not very much food,' I sent back. 'Do it for me.'

'I have a feeling this won’t be the last time, and you owe us one big time, baby!" sent Reggie.

"I don't mind," said Alfred, completely unaware of the exchange I had with Reggie. “I have my plate in my lap all the time at school when I eat outside.”

I gave him a napkin, and his sandwich; which was a Dutch crunch roll with roast beef, lettuce, onions, pickles, tomato slices, butter grilled mushrooms, mayo and mustard. Mine was the same, only with a tofu burger instead of roast beef. "Here ya go," I said.

Alfred bit into it. "This is better than anything I ever had at home or that my parents bought from a deli."

"I hope so," I said. "I have high standards."

"I like your door knocker. I think it's funny."

"Apparently you don't take noses very seriously."

Alfred struggled not to laugh. "I never thought about it." He had a potato crisp. He'd never had a crisp of this flavour before; and he liked it quite a bit. "This is good. I better not tell mom I ate here, or I'm gonna be in trouble."

"You can invite your parents over. I usually don't eat people."

"Not usually, huh?" He hoped I was kidding about my implication. He liked me quite a bit. He thought I was pretty, too. He liked my pale skin, turquoise eyes, and longish red hair. He thought I was one of the funniest people he'd ever met. He also liked ‘my’ animals. Anyone who had an eagle for a pet must be OK.

"No. It fact, it's never happened."

"That's good to hear."

"Not yet anyway," I just had to say.

"I hope you're kidding."

"Probably. You're a pretty bright kid. How old are you?"

"Ten."

"Catholic school?"

"Yeah. And mom helps me with my homework. Explains things to me when I can't understand them."

"Any brothers and sisters?"

"No. I want one, but mom says we can't afford anybody else. She says she'd have to work full time, and she'd rather spend the time she has watching me grow up than being stuck in an office all day."

"Smart woman," I said. "I assume she doesn't trim her nose hairs."

"I don't think she has any,"

"Then she was a bad nose in her last life. Maybe next time."

"I don't think she wants any nose hairs. She shaves all her hair off but her eyebrows and hair on her head. She plucks her eyebrows, too."

"Most women do. I never did, though." I finished my lemonade, and poured some more. "You want another glass too?"

"Let me finish this first," he said motioning toward his glass with his head.

"OK. Then I'll pour you some more."

"How big is this house?"

"I don't know. I never counted the rooms. With how I had the basement and attic fixed up, I guess I have about twenty rooms, give or take."

"Must be hard to clean."

"With my kind of money, I hire somebody. I don't do housework. I have two housekeepers and a landscaper on weekdays."

"You're rich?"

"Relatively!"

"Can I see some of the house?"

"Sure. After lunch, you can bring your own plate in."

"OK."

*****

There were noses all over the place. Metal noses, ceramic noses, nose refrigerator magnets, and there were even rugs with noses weaved into the patterns. You couldn't go anywhere without a nose knickknack not in sight. When I took him downstairs to my 'ritual room', there was an altar with a good-sized silver nose in the middle. Instead of a pentagram, I had a circle with a nose in it on the floor. I even had nose candles, and two one-foot braids of hair on a clip. "What are those?" asked Alfred about the braids.

"I can't grow nose hairs, so I wear a wig. I clip those onto my septum when I make an offering or prayer to the nose god."

"Nose god? Does it have a name?"

"Yes, but being that you aren't ordained into The Order, I don't know if I should tell you."

"What if I promise not to tell anyone?"

"Swear by your nose hairs!"

He laughed. "What?"

"Swear by your nose hairs that you won't tell, and I'll tell you. That's a mighty serious oath, you understand." I was really struggling to keep a straight face. This was just too much. Trying to be somber and serious under these circumstances was almost more than I could handle.

"OK. I swear by my nose hairs that I won't tell anyone."

"OK. The nose god's name is Snorfles."

Alfred almost hit the floor. I literally had to fade out, laugh my head off, and time trip back to the moment I left so he wouldn't know I was gone. I just couldn't deal with carrying off this act without cheating. "Oh my God! You're serious?!" said Alfred after he could talk again.

"Dead serious," I said. Yeah, riiiiiight! "But hey! It's easy. No money involved. No churches, and no tithing. Just recognise the sovereignty of your nose, and pet it once in a while. Talking to it is cool, too."

"What's sovereignty mean?"

I petted my own nose. "That it's an individual in its own right."

"Stephanie. I like you and all that, but you're weird."

I had to smile. "Trust me! I've been called worse."

*****

"Incredible," said Donn.

"Leave it to Stefan," said Thanatos

"Stephanie."

"What's the difference?!"

“Uh...not much of an Adam’s apple at the moment.”

*****

"Stephanie, do you have any kids?"

"No. My nose takes too much attention. I consider the idea of having a child kind of like a third nostril. They take too much time, money, and they cause too much stress."

"I'd like having somebody to play with. If I had a brother, we could play basketball and stuff."

"It's different when you have to take care of someone. Lost sleep, not to mention having a baby can rip you apart. It's painful, and I never liked the idea of looking like a watermelon factory. I also value my time a lot. When I was six, my breeder cow bitch of an incubator made me take care of my half brother and sister; who were two and three. Defiant little bastards they were, and I used to beat 'em up all the time. Then again, so did my child abusing incubator."

"Incubator?"

"I sure ain't callin' that thing a mother," I said. I didn’t really feel the passionate hate I was pretending to exude anymore, but I was having just too much fun with this game to tone it down.

"Oh."

"You're OK, though. You strike me as being smarter than most kids, and I don't have to live with you."

*****

"That one would have made a great counsellor, huh?" asked Thanatos.

"I was screwed up enough as a kid as I was, thank you," said Donn.

"Was?"

"Well, I'm good enough for you, huh?"

Thanatos chuckled, and ruffled Donn's hair. "Wouldn't want you any other way. Same with Stef, for that matter! Though I gotta admit, if that kid was still alive; I'd put a stop to this yesterday."

*****

"If you're a witch, can you do magic?" asked Alfred.

"What do you want me to do?"

Can you become an animal?"

"Stay there," I said. I backed off, and transformed myself into a cheetah.

"Wow! Can I pet you?"

'A couple of times,' I sent him.

"You can talk?!"

'No. I'm communicating with you mind to mind. It seems like I'm talking, though.'

He walked over to me, and patted me on the head. "You're real. What about that nose thing?"

I sent, 'We can talk about that in a minute! Let me become a person again.'

Alfred stepped back. "OK."

I transformed back, though this time, no robe. I was in what I'd worn under it. My Victorian breeches, white silk shirt with cravat, and coat with tails, No gloves or cloak, though. "Thanks."

"What happened to your dress?"

"It wasn't a dress. It was a hooded robe. Witches wear them for ritual."

"You did a ritual?" asked Alfred.

"Yes. I asked my god Snorfles if I should grow my nose so big that I'd keep the Universe in the right nostril. It said it wasn't a good idea." How I managed to say that without falling over is beyond me.

"You can do that?"

"Sure. Wanna watch?"

"Uh...maybe not. Wouldn't it get dark?"

"No. I'd have the sun and all the stars and galaxies in my nostril, too. But then space ships that go to the edge of the Universe might crash into my nostril, and we can't have that; can we?"

"Why wasn't that ever on Star Trek?"

"Because I haven't done it yet, and I probably never will. It's a good idea for me to listen to my god." I was gonna have to cut out again if I was going to keep this up. I barely had a lid on myself.

"What else can you do?"

"I can make things out of thin air. I can read minds. If I really want to know something, I can find out in no time. I can do almost anything."

"What colour am I thinking of."

"Red. That's too easy. Think of a whole sentence."

"OK."

"To be, or not to be."

"That's right. You really can read my mind."

"I also knew you were ten and didn't have any brothers or sisters, Alfred Ramirez. I just asked so I wouldn't freak you out. I didn't want you to be afraid of me, and when I joke about cannibalism, a joke is all it is. And you know something else?"

"What?"

"In a little while, I'll teach you how to be just like me. After I ordain you into The Holey Order Of The Septum, unless you don't want that."

"I can be a cheetah after my ordaining?"

"Hm hm." I started laughing. This had to come to a conclusion. I was going to ordain him by having him kneel before me and putting a plastic butter knife on his shoulder while telling him he was now High Nose Hair Of The Holey Order Of The Septum, but no way. I'd hit my limit. "Percy! Reggie! Get in here."

Alfred looked at the door. In less than a minute, a big, black cat with sabre fangs came prowling through the door with an archaeopteryx on his back. 'You rang?' asked Reggie.

"Yes," I said. "It's about time to tell Alfred all he is, and all he can be. I can't keep this up anymore without totally losing it."

'That he's as dead as a doornail, and that you just took him on to mess with his head about noses?' asked Percy.

"Huh?" asked Alfred.

"Poo! You cut the game short, cat dude. Anyway, this is the real Percy and Reggie. Reggie is an archaeopteryx. There aren't anymore of those around on Earth. They became extinct millions of years ago. Percy used to be my cat when I lived on Earth, but he was talked into shape shifting into the gorgeous thing you see there. Sometimes he becomes a person, but he doesn't like that. Alf, that truck you think missed you; didn't. We can go outside, time trip back, and look at what's left of your former home that you used to call your body; though I don't recommend it."

"So I'm really dead?"

"Dude! If I was alive like you were, I couldn't do what you saw me do. We are Etheric. Everyone can do what you saw me do. You're also not really a kid anymore. There are no children here, and as soon as I do a mind share with you to teach you the way of this realm real fast; you are going to take the adult form you are meant to have."

"So you were only kidding about all the nose stuff?!"

"I would certainly hope so, but I do joke about noses and my nose a lot. It's a left over habit from when I lived on Earth."

Alfred smiled. "If this is what it's like being dead, I think I like it."

I ruffled his hair. "Wait until you see the castle we're going to."

"Castle?"

"It's called Tech Duinn. One of my best friends built it. It's a way station, and you can stay there until you decide what you want to do with yourself."

"Cool."

"So, let's get you educated. Take my hand, and close your eyes."

The adventure would only get more interesting for Alfred.

*****

"I don't think Stef will ever be doing that again," said Donn.

"Thank Snorfles!" said Thanatos.

Life In The Dark

Me, Thanatos, Stefan, and Macha were spending a nostalgic moment walking through a tunnel of trees of Tech Duinn, with our destination being the sandy beach to watch the sunset, and an approaching storm. The path was wide enough so all four of us could walk next to each other. We were on a side trail outside of the castle walls that was about a kilometre from the water. The land on this part of the island was thickly forested, with this lovely shaded path manifested eons ago for a nice, quiet, peaceful walk to the shore.

Stefan bent his arms forward so his hands were in front of him self; he bent his wrists forward, and curled his fingers. He suggested, "Horsey trot to get there faster?" Then he did this silly, slow, high stepping trot.

"No!" said Thanatos.

"How's about this?" asked Stefan. He rotated his arms at his side three times like when a child pretends to be a choo-choo train, lifted his right foot off the ground, bent his left leg, crossed his right ankle over his left knee, swung his arms back, then forward, and took a histrionic leap leading with his right foot, and went into a 'slow motion' run.

"Ye gods, NO!" said Thanatos with a laugh. "If you want to get there faster, transfer. We're walking!"

"Imagine what this would look like if all four of us were doing this," said Stefan.

"Thanks. If I slept tonight, I think I'd have nightmares about that now," said Thanatos.

Macha and I looked at each other. Both of us were chuckling a little at Stefan's antics, and Thanatos' remark. "Where does he come up with this stuff?" asked Macha.

"I think he watched too much TV in his...uh...her younger days," I said. "I'm picking up traces of various cartoon characters about to take off, and making fun of a series called 'The Six Million Dollar Man'."

"I'm sorry I asked," said Macha.

I looked at her. "So am I." I pointed ahead. "Light at the end of the tunnel grows bigger. We're almost at the edge of the forested area." From there, the path grew rocky from the dirt trail, and we'd be going down a gentle slope to the sand. The horses and ponies sometimes played in the water, there.

Thanatos caught up with Stefan, and ruffled his hair. "We can do a serious run on the way back, kiddo. An all outer."

Stefan looked up to Thanatos with a smile. "You and Macha are gonna leave us in the dust."

"It won't be that bad, " said Macha. "Not on level ground, anyway. It's not an uphill race."

"It's not a race, period," said Thanatos. "Just a bit of fun. Maybe see if we can outrun the rain."

"Sure," said Stefan.

When we got to the shore, we walked around in the low surf a bit playing with running at the edge of the waves, then we sat down on the sand away from where the water hit. The sky was mostly cloudy, and we could see some pretty impressive colours here and there, along with the rain coming down in the distance. It was cold, and the only one crazy enough to go temperature sensitive was Stefan...as usual.

"Gorgeous," said Stefan.

"Totally," I agreed.

"Just got hit by a raindrop," said Macha, a few minutes later. Right after she said that, the sky lit up.

I stood up. "Looks like we got here just in time for a bit of fun, and the start of the storm. Ready for the mad dash back?"

Both Stefan and Thanatos jumped to their feet. "Oh, yeah," said Stefan. He took off, and me, Macha and Thanatos were on his tail. Thanatos and Macha let Stefan set the pace, and they didn't overtake him, like they easily could have. It was fun, though we failed in outrunning the rain. When we got out from under the tunnel of trees, we got soaked. Still, we kept running, though we slowed, laughing at our folly, and telling a few jokes on the way. We ended up running to the spa, dropping our clothes in the hall, and having a good soak, with Stefan being the only one to use it to warm up.

*****

The four of us were sitting in the hot whirlpool with fruit juices of our choice. Stefan and I had a passionfruit-mango mixture, Thanatos had orange, and Macha had pineapple. Stefan said, "I've never done a mine collapse case."

"I have. They can be nasty. When a person takes days to die, trapped in total darkness, partially crushed, dehydrated, hungry..." I said.

Stefan interrupted, "Not to mention the fact that bladders and intestines only have finite storage capacity."

"Mustn't forget that," said Macha,

"No! Perish the thought," said Thanatos.

Stefan looked to the ceiling. "Amazing how the TV and newspaper reporters always failed to mention that in stories of people getting stuck up high on various amusement park rides for hours on end, due to power glitches; or whatever."

I looked at him. "Stefan, go do a mine collapse case."

He gave me a devious smile. "Alone?"

My left eyebrow went up. "Maybe not."

"Let's all four of us do that. After all, we'd make a more convincing digging crew. Just one or two of us wouldn't do," said Thanatos.

"Sure," said Macha. "This could be fun."

*****

In our lit hardhats, overalls, steel-toed boots, gloves, we sat at the entrance of a simulacrum of a Kentucky mine in which they used blast mining. It was dangerous, but that was the technology of the days when Roger Langston died.

When the roof of the real Kentucky mine collapsed, Roger would suffer a crushed wrist, hand, forearm, and a fractured hip. He would also be trapped under rubble. In reality, it would take him five days to day. We wouldn't let him know that.

One half hour after the collapse, Roger would hear us digging to get to him. "Hello?" he called.

In our created illusion, we had a metre of fallen rock to clear, as opposed to more like twenty. Did we actually do the work? Yeah! Sure! Why not? A little digging with picks and shovels never killed a Gate Keeper. It is kind of fun if you don't have to do it for a living.

Stefan chuckled. "Hey, Macha? Why don't you be the first to show your face? After all, there are superstitions about women in mines."

Macha winked at Stefan. "Yeah! Not to mention women miners weren't a very common site in these days, huh?"

"Unheard of," said Thanatos. "Stefan, you can be so mean with your practical jokes."

Stefan shrugged, and then laid way with his pick. "You think it was mean to try to get a kid to believe God was a nose?"

"That was just whacked," said Thanatos.

"Oh, to add to this; I think I'll switch gender." He...it...she...whatever, did just that. "Stephanie at your service."

I chuckled. "All right. Be that way."

"So, Donn! Why don't you and Thanatos do the same?"

"That's not nice. This is bad enough," I said. "In fact, this is going to panic him a bit with two women on the rescue mission. One was bad enough. He's not going to expect to make it out alive."

Stephanie hit the rocks again. "Well, he didn't. No big deal."

Macha said, "Stephanie, I think you're going to bring out the worst in me if you keep this up."

Thanatos chuckled. "I think it's too late. I have a feeling you're already going to show Roger your worst."

"You know, you're right." Macha's expression turned a bit maniacal, as she yelled, "WE'RE ON OUR WAY. DOESN'T SOUND LIKE WE HAVE TOO FAR TO GO!"

*****

Roger's hope turned to fear. What was a woman doing in the mines? If this collapse hadn't killed him, there'd be another one that would.

You didn't have women in the mines. That was a recipe for disaster! "Lady, go away! If I'm not bad off enough now, you're dooming me to Hell!"

"NONSENSE! WE'RE ALMOST THROUGH!" yelled Stephanie. She deliberately raised the pitch of her androgynous voice to make it more feminine.

Oh, God! There're two of them! How can this be? Who allowed it? Roger was sure the worst was yet to come.

*****

Macha was with a shovel. "Stephanie, I think we should trade. I've got a little more umph behind my strikes."

Stephanie looked at me. I had a shovel, myself. It was Thanatos and Stephanie who had the picks. "Donn, have I just been insulted?"

"Dude, she can whup your behind. I'd suggest you trade if we want to get there a little faster."

Stephanie traded tools with Macha. "Here!"

Macha wound up, and hit the wall hard enough to finally break through, though the hole was a bit high. We'd have to clear the top of the loose rocks a bit first.

"You're pissed, huh?" asked Stephanie?

Macha smiled at Stephanie. "Not really, but I think someone needs to learn a lesson."

Stephanie smiled back. "Dude, you're my kind of woman!"

"You could have fooled me, when we were in bed."

"That was a long time ago, and that's not what I meant," said Stephanie.

Macha slung the pick over her shoulder, and ruffled Stephanie's hair the best she could though her heavy glove. "I know that. I was just being obnoxious."

Stephanie chuckled. "But you gotta admit there's no way you can be as obnoxious as me?"

"I'll concede that before I even start," said Macha. She swung at the wall again, and stepped back. "OK. Time to clear the rubble."

Stephanie and I did our thing, and Macha and Thanatos finished off clearing a big enough part of the wall to crawl through; but it was chest high on me.

*****

Macha went through the hole first, then me, then Stephanie, then Thanatos. When Roger saw Thanatos, he screamed. "No! The Devil's come! I knew women shouldn't be in a mine!"

Thanatos crossed his arms, and looked down at Roger. "Mr. Langston, I am no devil. I helped break through that wall, and now I am going to help clear that rubble from you, and if you don't mind; I can probably heal you."

"Your eyes! They're the Devil's eyes!"

"The eyes are cosmetic. Latest technology, OK?! My teeth aren't natural either, for when you get around to noticing that I have fangs. Now will you shut up and let us get to work?"

"GET THOSE WOMEN OUTTA HEEEEEEEEERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Macha lifted a stone. "Sure. After we're done freeing you. We might even take you with us on a stretcher if you find you can't walk."

"Leave! Please leave! Maybe this cave-in was caused by a woman in the mines."

"This cave-in was caused by badly chosen blasting locations," I said. "That bit about women in the mines is a silly superstition, and nothing more. I've been in plenty of mines with women, and nothing bad has ever happened to me," I said. Of course, I was talking spelunking, and not mining, but hey!

Stephanie and I started clearing the rubble, as well as Macha. "Than, can you work on making that hole bigger so we can get out easier?"

"Sure. Macha, I may need your help on this."

"OK."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Roger.

Stephanie smiled. She wore and bore her fangs for this one. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to knock you out with chloroform; so we can work in peace. Then we'll take you to safety unconscious."

"Oh God, why me?" asked Roger with a whimper.

"You're not the only one in this mess. There're others worse off than you. Are you in pain?" I asked.

"Yes. My right arm! I don't even know if there's anything left of it. My leg...my hip..."

"It's gonna be OK," I said.

"Are you a woman too?"

"No! I just have long hair, am kind of young, and have a high voice. My name's Vergil Xanon. We already know you're Roger Langston. We're on the rescue crew."

"But women?"

"Macha almost beat up your foreman for trying to stop her. Get off of it. There were no women in this mine when the collapse happened. There rarely are due to your stupid folklore which has nothing to do with reality," I said. I looked at Stephanie. "His hand and arm does look pretty bad, and his hip is dinged up. I can deal with it as well as Than, though."

"Can I see?" asked Roger.

"After I'm done with it," I said. Roger would have problems if he saw what damage had really been, then saw the full repair job I'd do in a few seconds. His mind wouldn't be able to process it right.

I'd make him feel how I rearranged his configuration, so he'd know something happened. I had a way to make him accept all that was going to happen.

I looked up, closed my eyes, and raised my hands. "In the name of the Lord, ye shall be healed!" I repaired the Etheric illusion of bones and the flesh in what amounted to about thirty seconds so they were as good as new, as opposed to doing it instantly. No, it didn't feel that good; not that there was a lot of pain, but it was a Hell of a lot easier than if all were fixed the mortal way. I just did that to be more believable. Yes, Roger screamed as I lay my hands on the wounded parts as an affectation to make the healing more in tune of what he was expecting, more from shock than discomfort.

Stephanie looked over at his formerly crushed arm. "Good job."

"Now you can look at it," I said.

Roger raised his arm. "It looks better than it felt."

"It's OK. God worked through me. Come on, now. Let's get out of here," I said.

"Let's see if I can walk," said Roger.

"I checked the damage. Maybe you'll be bruised, but nothing's broken," I said. Not any more, anyway.

I looked up at the work Thanatos and Macha were doing. "Good job. Let's leave here before anything else comes down."

Roger got up. "I guess I can walk. Thanks, but I still don't like the idea of women underground."

Stephanie looked at him. "It's people like you who make me want to quit my job."

I looked at Stephanie. "As far as the world is concerned, you quit your job the day you were born."

"Compliments like that will get you a nose pet," said Stephanie.

"I'd rather get a back rub," I said.

"Fine," aid Stephanie. "Later."

"Nose pet?" asked Roger?

"Private joke," I said.

Roger looked at Stephanie's oversized proboscis. "I see. Who goes through the hole first?"

"You," said Thanatos.

Just what Roger wanted to hear! "Thanks.

"Don't run when you get to the other side. This part of the cave is in a delicate state," said Thanatos.

"You're not from these parts," said Roger, as he walked toward the hole in the wall. "You're accent's different."

"Ireland," said Thanatos.

Roger went through, and waited. Thanatos went through next. "What's your name again?" asked Roger of Thanatos.

"Than."

Stephanie went next, then Macha, then I. Roger looked us over. "If we get out of this alive, I'll thank you all. Women, too."

Macha sent me nonverbally, 'I want to slap this guy.'

I gave a snort, trying to control my laughter. 'I figure you'd want to take a claymore to his neck by now.'

'I may take you up on that.'

I covered my mouth, and bit down on my lip. 'Cut that out before you floor me.'

Macha winked at me. "All right, let's get a move on. Walk soft."

Off we went.

"OK," said Roger. He looked at Macha, who was quite a bit taller than him. "You're a big lady."

"Who can probably get more done in a mine in a day than you, buster," said Macha.

"Maybe. You swing a mean pick," said Roger.

"She swings a mean sword, too," said Thanatos. "After all, she is Irish."

"The women there are just as fiery, huh?" asked Roger.

"Oh, they can be," I said. "You should have seen my mother. Real hellcat. Not that my father was blameless, but there is a thing called overkill."

"Yeah." Roger looked around. "This mine doesn't look the same."

"Considering what happened, I'd think not. You've had some schooling, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah. I was going to be an animal doctor until my father died. Then I had to go to work to help support the family. One sister went into sewing, another became a housekeeper, and my two brothers became carpenter apprentices. Me, I just took the job that was there, then, and this is it. It's OK, though. It puts food on the table. That, and my wife and two daughters take care of a nice big garden. We also have chickens, and we trade eggs for milk and flour, and stuff. How can you tell I went to school?"

"The way you talk," I said. "You're grammar is a little more high falutin' as some say."

"You four sound pretty educated yourself," said Roger.

"We are," said Macha. "Educated enough not to worry about women in mines."

"I don't know about that," said Roger.

"It's the twentieth century. I think it's time to get rid of those pointless superstitions. You'd think that went out with witch burnings and child sacrifices," said Thanatos. Not that those thing didn't still occur on a too regular of a basis. Just not in the United States.

"Who's to say?" asked Roger.

"What about other superstitions? Black cats? Broken mirrors? Has Friday the thirteenth been different than any other day?" asked Stephanie.

"Not really," said Roger. "I don't always pay attention to the calendar. My wife tells me when it's time to go to church. The other days, I work."

"Typical in these parts, huh?" asked Stephanie.

"Yeah. Vergil! Are you and Than brothers?" asked Roger. "You look almost the same."

"No," I said. "We're very good friends, though. Have been for a long time. We work together a lot."

"We've been walking for a while. Shouldn't we have been out of here?" asked Roger.

"In a little bit," said Stephanie.

"And we didn't have these lights. This is fire-torches! They kill the air. We had electric bulbs," said Roger.

"There's enough of an airflow here," I said. "Look ahead. The faint light up ahead?”

"I see," said Roger. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, but it was barely visible. It wasn't like daylight. It was more like there was a bigger fire down there around the corner, or something. "It'll be nice to get out of here. I never knew any of the mine to be like this. I thought I'd seen it all. Or is the power out, and they had to do this with the torches to cover?"

"Maybe," said Stephanie.

"But it still doesn't look right. This isn't what I remember. How long was I trapped?" asked Roger.

"We don't know that," said Stephanie.

"It didn't seem that long," said Roger.

*****

We walked a little longer, and Stephanie said, "Almost out."

"Looks like we're headed for another, better lit cave tunnel," said Roger.

"It's way better than that," I said. "Trust me!"

"If you say so," said Roger.

"Ronin and Del have the table set, right?" asked Stephanie.

"They sure do," said Thanatos. He looked at Roger. "Hope you don't mind a meat free meal, but it will be filling. We don't consume animals."

"I am hungry, and I'll take what I can get. I appreciate you feeding me."

"No problem," I said.

"What is this?" asked Roger, as we walked from the cave into one of the halls of the Tech Duinn castle.

"Home, for a while," I said. "It's called The House Of Donn. Donn Ui'Midir is my other name."

Roger scowled. "You have two names?"

"Some of us do. Than...Thanatos also is known as Keith Munster, and we'll get into Stephanie's other name later. It's a long, complicated story."

"You live in this mountain?" asked Roger of me.

"We're not in the mountain anymore. Let's have dinner first, before I explain," I said. "It's just two turns in the halls to get to the dining room."

"OK."

*****

Roger was in for a shock, when we got to the dining room. The table was loaded, Ronin, Deliah, Andre, and Tonya were seated at the table, and all were feasting away. Roger was shocked at the mixed race collection. "You all eat together? Yellow and darkie, and white?"

Stephanie crossed her arms. "Roger, we are all the same. Yes, we do all eat together. We also work and have fun together. Those at the table are more intelligent than most, and you could probably learn quite a bit from them. They're a class act that is hard to follow! There is no difference between us except in what we look like. We are one."

"I wasn't raised like that, but I guess I'm open."

"If you weren't, you wouldn't be here. We don't take on closed minded jerks," said Stephanie.

"Says the one who thinks the only good child is a cooked child," said Thanatos.

"Huh?" asked Roger.

"It really is a joke, despite how often I'll deny it," said Stephanie. "After all, I do have a reputation to maintain of being an Asshole to the Thirty Third Degree. Kind of like the Masons, but only different."

"OK," said Roger, a bit confused.

Thanatos walked over to the table first. "We're here."

Everyone looked at our new guest. "Hello Roger. Hope you didn't have too hard of a time getting here," said Tonya.

"You know my name?"

Tonya smiled. "We know everything about you. About the mine collapse, and all?"

Damn, she was pretty for a black lady. The black man who sat next to her was quite handsome, too. Roger sat down next to Tonya, and smiled. "And how do you know this?" he asked.

Thanatos sat next to Roger, and the rest of us found chairs. "Roger, you didn't really survive the mine collapse. It took your body five days to die, but we took your mind in a couple of hours. We figured it wasn't worth it to have you suffer the truth, so we gave you the illusion of a rescue. We're Gate Keepers. Some call the older ones of us death gods, but I think that's wrong. There's really only one God, who we call Source. After dinner, we'll tell you all about it."

"Let him read about it," said Stephanie. "I think Donn's story set is the best way to introduce anyone to this place. And it gives them a glimpse at what could be next if they don't recycle on Earth."

"All right," I said.

"You're saying I'm dead?" asked Roger.

"Let us say you did shed your mortal coil," said Thanatos. "Death is not a good term. It implies an ending, and there is no end."

"What about my wife and kids?" asked Roger.

"They're pretty resourceful. They'll make due. You're wife's a good farm girl, she can outshoot a lot of men, and she's still pretty good looking with a couple of daughters who are doing a good job in following in her footsteps," said Thanatos. "We can show you her future in a little bit, but it's going to be pretty good. Dr. Callahan likes her quite a bit."

Roger smiled. "Good. This food smells good. I've never seen some of it, but..."

"Serve yourself," said Ronin. "A lot of it is Japanese, but I'm sure you'll like it."

Roger did like it. He also liked my book series, and his way of thinking evolved several lifetimes, in no time.

He ended up moving on with no further incarnations on Earth.

Heimlich Manoeuvre Before Death, Next Time

Damn, it was a bitch getting old. Well, at least this sixty nine year old body could still move; and I didn't have far to go to get to where I wanted to go. Down two flights of stairs, if I didn't want to take the elevator; a block north, and across the street! Best Chinese restaurant in town.

It was raining, as usual. Here in Seattle, we might have fifty days a year when it was dry. Winter was approaching, and it was quite cold. At least it hadn't started to snow yet. If it had, I may have ordered a delivery.

This weather was hard on my old bones. I should have moved to Arizona when I could, but now I was stuck here. The problem of limited finances trapped me in this city.

I was warmly dressed, and despite the fact I had the heat on high; I was only comfortable in front of the heater. I got into my galoshes, my gloves, and raincoat. I grabbed my umbrella, and looked at my walking stick. I didn't really need it, but it provided me a degree of security. I hadn't fallen yet, but there was always a first time. It could also be used to clobber someone who tried to rob me, I suppose.

I took the cane, and walked out the door. I made myself take the stairs. On the way back, I'd probably take the elevator.

*****

One block. Six buildings that had no room between them! When I was a kid, I could run that distance in seconds. Now it took me a couple of minutes to cover it on a good day.

This was not a good day. I had to fight high winds with an umbrella in one hand, and a cane in the other. Unfortunately, not one inch of the sidewalk was covered on this block by any of the storefront buildings. How inconsiderate of the builders, considering the weather in this city. At least the restaurant had an inlet that protected you on three sides from wind and rain. I closed my umbrella, and shook it out when I got there.

I walked in. Robert Wong was at the counter. He was the owner. "Hi, Robert," I said as I sat at the table closest to the counter.

"Hello, Craig. I wasn't expecting you today."

I looked around. Four of the nine tables were occupied. "I just couldn't resist going for more than four days without your delicious food. Looks like you're having a good day."

"Yeah, it's been busy. Nice. Got a new local customer earlier. She said she'd be back."

"Good," I said. "You doing OK?"

"Fine. And you're having?"

"Lemon chicken. The usual steamed rice, mixed veggies, and egg drop soup today. Don't bring me any water."

"OK. Let me get you your tea. It's cold today."

"You're telling me," I said.

I waited for a few minutes, and got my tea and soup at the same time. Robert had given me the standard bowl of soup, instead of the appetizer bowl. "Here you go. On the house."

"You shouldn't do that."

"Yes I should. You tip high. Karma and all that, you know?"

"Isn't that India?" I asked.

"Right next to China."

I smiled. "Thank you, but I don't know if I can eat all this." Robert Wong was a very nice man. He'd treated me pretty good, and he gave out a lot of excellent food for very good prices. I wondered how he made a living.

"Take home what you can't."

I chuckled. "How do you stay open?!"

He winked at me. "Tippy-tippy. No taxy-taxy." He said that in an affected accent. Back in his regular voice, he continued, "You're not the only one who tips high. And you see how many of my customers bring me things from their trees and gardens? I trade, too."

"Good work."

"That, and I have a rich, devoted son," he said, looking at the ceiling. "Good engineer for Lockheed. He lives in California."

"You never told me that."

"You never asked. Treat son like royalty when he grows up, he makes good 401K-plan. The Chinese way! He sends money every month, even though I don’t need it." Robert went back to the kitchen.

Two of the tables emptied when Robert was gone. After he brought my food out, he went to clean up the tables, and pick up his money. He looked at me. "Dan tipped me fifty percent. I'll declare ten," he said in a low voice that was meant for my ears only."

"And you share."

"I give more, I get more. Seems to work."

I also knew he didn't ring up everything for all customers. I gave him more than enough for my meal, and no receipt was written. Some customers of his did that. Nothing I paid was ever rung up on the register.

The man at another table walked up to Robert, gave him a twenty, and said, "Thank you. See you next week." It was for him and his date.

"Thank you more. I'll see you then," said Robert.

The man gave a thumbs-up signal, and walked out with his girlfriend, wife, or whatever.

Now all that was left in the restaurant was some red-blond haired kid and I, and that hair was pretty long. He was working on a large bowl of soup while reading a paper. He seemed to be paying more attention to the paper than his food.

Robert cleaned up the just vacated table, and went in the back again.

I don't know how he did it. He was open ten hours a day, seven days a week, and he was always there. He had one employee. A delivery driver who also acted as dishwasher! Robert's wife sometimes helped, but that wasn't very often.

*****

Damn, this food was beyond delicious. It was almost too good to be true. I was probably eating too fast, as usual; but that's the way I ate. The steamed rice was excellent, though I had to be careful that I didn't choke myself. If I ate that too fast, it was hard going down, because it was kind of dry.

I dipped a piece of chicken in the lemon sauce, and bit half of it off. I guess I didn't chew it well enough, and due to not swallowing all my rice; I got it caught in my throat. I gagged, and I couldn't breath!

Robert was still in back, and I was in trouble. The kid who'd had his nose in the paper ran over to me, and despite the fact that he was a bit shorter than me; picked me up from behind, gave me five back slaps, then wrapped his arms around me for the Heimlich treatment. The combination worked. The piece of chicken became dislodged.

The kid saved my life. I sat down back in the chair, not quite coughing my guts out. "Are you alright?" the kid asked. He had a nice accent.

When I could finally talk, I said, "Yeah." I finished my cup of tea, which was now cool enough to drink all at once. "You saved my life."

The kid looked up blankly, and swallowed. He coughed once, and then smiled. "Maybe. Anyway, I'm Donn Ui'Midir. You?"

"Craig Latorre."

He extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you. Too bad it wasn't under other circumstances."

I had to laugh. "Indeed. Why don't you bring your food over to this table?"

"All right, I will."

"Will you let me pay for it?"

Donn smiled. "No. I pay before my meals, and it was no big deal. I've had EMT training."

"I'm still grateful. Mr. Wong is too, probably."

"No doubt." Donn looked at the empty counter. "He seems to be quite busy in the kitchen."

"If his delivery boy is on the road, he cleans the dishes. It looks like he had a pretty hectic morning."

"Considering the quality of his food, no doubt. Good stuff, and he doesn't defile it with MSG."

"What's with the MSG?"

"It's a neurotoxin. It's not good for you. Anyway, if you taste it straight, you're going to wonder how anything so vile can be added to food."

"OK," I said. I never paid it much attention. I never asked about MSG, and I never cared. It just was. I'd continue to ignore it, because it didn't seem to make me feel any different, and what the hell was a neurotoxin?

"You been here long?" asked Donn.

"Seattle? Born and raised here. I used to love it, but the weather's a little harsh for a man my age."

"I like the cool weather, myself. I'm also a rain addict."

"The rain's too hard on me now. It's a good idea for me to use a walking stick, because I'm not so steady on my feet as I used to be. That and the umbrella don’t leave me much as far as free hands go. It makes shopping hard. I just hope I'll be able to drive until the day I die."

"I think that's a good likelihood," said Donn. "You strike me as being pretty spry."

Spry. A good term for a lively old coot! "So far so good," I said. "After this, would you like to come to my place for a cup of coffee or something? I live just across the street in that grey four- storey apartment on the end. I'm on the second floor."

"Sure. If you'll come to my place for latte, or gourmet tea and dinner later! I live on the outskirts of the city in a house with my friends who double as staff."

"Staff?"

"Big house. It needs maintenance. They stay for free, get fed, whatever grows on the land, a small salary and if they want another part time job, they're free. It takes less than twenty hours a week for all of us to maintain the place."

Sounded pretty posh. "Sure. Today?"

"I don't see why not. The day is young. And if it gets too late, you can stay in a guest bedroom. It's forty kilometres away."

Damn! What was that in miles? A kilometre was a little more than half a mile. Oh, whatever. I was sure it was less than thirty miles, and that was OK. "Fine," I said. "Should I bring sleep-ware and a change of clothes, just in case?"

"Optional."

"All right." We got up, I put fifteen dollars on the counter, Donn put down twice that, and we walked out.

*****

Donn held the umbrella for us, and we walked to my apartment building. We took the elevator up, and went to my apartment. It was a cozy little thing, and I had Donn sit at the kitchen table. It was easier for me to serve coffee there. "Nice place," said Donn.

"Thanks. It's small, but I don't need much room. The less to clean, the better."

Donn nodded his head once. "I can see your point of view, though I don't live it."

I put the put a bag of coffee in my coffee maker. "French Roast."

"That's fine," said Donn.

"Cream and sugar?"

"Definitely."

I took two cups out of the cupboard, with a couple of saucers. "I have no idea how to thank you enough for what you did for me."

"It was really nothing. All in the line of the job, you know?"

"Where's your car parked?"

"Surprisingly, it's just outside the door of your apartment. That grey Camry?! There was no parking in front of Mr. Wong's."

"Convenient. Walnut cookies?"

He smiled. "Let's not spoil our appetite any more before dinner, though that is tempting."

"All right. How long have you been in the States?"

"Not long. I have some property here, but I'm only visiting. I spend more time across The Pond. Shall we leave as soon as we finish the coffee?"

"If you like."

"It would be practical. Maybe you should pack some clothes. You never know what circumstances we'll run into."

"Will do."

*****

It was nice to get out of the city into a more rural setting. I was also glad the rain had slowed to a slight drizzle when Donn drove us off. The change of scenery was pleasant, and it was even sweeter not to have it marred by buckets coming down on the car; obscuring the view.

When we got to Donn's house, I was awed. The front yard must have been two acres. The driveway was long, and the three-storey Victorian was surrounded by trees and covered in vines! In fact the whole front yard was covered with trees and bushes. It was a beautiful, paradoxical front yard that had a wild touch, though it was manicured. The grass was cut, and there were various groups of flowers growing here and there, though they weren't set apart in any way. They grew with the grass, but they were planted in assemblages of different types; and it was very artistic looking.

A red headed man with a very big nose was sitting on the verandah in a long sleeved jumpsuit, with a glass of iced orange juice. For a cold day like today, the orange juice seemed out of place. "You're back. What took you so long, Donn?"

"Craig here, had a slight problem at Mr. Wong's. It's OK, though," said Donn.

The man stood up, and came to me. "I'm Stefan Shannon. Pleased to meet you."

"Craig Latorre. Pleased to meet you, too."

"Hope you're staying for supper. Kevalyn is preparing a doozy of a vegetarian work of art for dinner in Vietnamese, tonight. She always cooks too much."

I loved Vietnamese food. I could rarely afford it, but this sounded like it was going to be quite a treat. "There's no way I can turn that down," I said.

"Good." Stefan finished off his lemonade. "And perhaps we can have some tea while we wait?"

"I'd like that," I said.

*****

So, I got to see how the upper class lived up close.

Incredible.

The house was decorated with things from the past, but everything was in perfect condition. I guess everything was a replica, but there were ancient weapons, shields, tapestries, and the furnitshings were made of intricately carved cherry. I have no idea how they kept it so dust free.

The place had no carpets, but throw rugs on wooden floors. "You want a tour of this place?" asked Donn.

"You'd actually give me one?"

Donn shrugged. "Sure. A lot of visitors are curious about this place. It's unique, architecturally. Not something you find on every block. It's amazing how many people have never had tea in a turret room. Would you like to do that?"

I chuckled. "Are you a mind reader, or something?" I hadn't dared to ask, though it was an experience I'd been curious about since childhood.

"Or something," said Donn. "Let's go to the turret at the front north corner. You and Stefan can have a seat at the little circular table, and I'll bring us some tea."

"Thank you very much."

*****

In this quaint, little round room, Donn, Stefan, and I shared some creamed Earl Grey tea, and milk chocolate covered hazelnut toffee biscotti. I've rarely had biscotti, and I'd never even seen this flavour. It was so nice, looking out the window at this little corner in paradise. I felt like I was in a faery tale. I could also smell the food cooking in the kitchen. Needless to say, it was making me pretty hungry despite of what I’d eaten at Mr. Wong’s.

I almost couldn't believe what was happening. This guy saves me from choking to death, then he invites me over for dinner to the wealthiest household I'd ever been in. We had a major cloudburst, as we were having our tea. The intensity of the rain was almost frightening. "Hope you have good drainage, here," I said.

"We're on a low hill," said Donn. "No worries."

"It's nice and warm in here."

"A home with no central heating in Washington State is crazy," said Stefan.

"Yeah. I have a wall heater," I said.

"You poor thing," said Stefan. "I remember those days. I used to live in an apartment."

"You did?" I asked.

"Aye. I'm not the landed one here. I work for Donn."

"With me, is more like it," said Donn. "We work on various collective art projects."

"I thought you were a paramedic, or something," I said.

"Just because I'm EMT trained, doesn't mean I do that for a living," said Donn. "Not that I couldn't do it. I just have better ways to use my talents"

"Most of the paintings up on the walls were done by Donn," said Stefan.

"But Stef has a few, here," said Donn.

"I've got to look at those closer. I noticed them, and they are nice; but I just gave them a brief scan," I said.

"No problem. You can look at all of them after tea when we give you a tour of the house," said Donn.

*****

There was a library, an art studio with a painting in progress on the easel, a music studio, a den, a study, a couple of offices, we saw the kitchen with a very attractive red haired lady who looked like she just stepped out of nineteen sixty five; who was doing the cooking, a dining room, and I was even shown some of the bedrooms and bathrooms. I was shown what was to be my room for the night if we didn't get me home in time, and it had its own bathroom. It was quite fancy, and I hoped I wouldn't get home in time. To spend the night in this kind of luxury was unimaginable, for me. Hey, and my pajamas and a change of street clothes were packed in Donn's car.

It was strange, but I also felt better than I had in years. My aching joints were giving me some respite. I wondered if that had something to do with the central heating.

Dinner was being put on the table when we were done with the tour. It was a huge table, and it was a feast. Rice, spinach with garlic, broccoli, a mushroom mixture, tofu, spring rolls, and all kinds of other delicacies! To drink, there was coconut juice, tea, and mango juice. I'd never had anything this good at any restaurant.

Four other people joined us, besides Kevalyn. A black couple named Andre and Tonya, and a white couple named Warren and Sylvia. Everybody had an Irish accent, and everybody seemed very intellectual. I liked my current company quite a bit, and wished I didn't have to leave them; be it tonight or tomorrow.

I couldn't believe how much I'd managed to eat, and when I got away from the table I almost needed a wheelbarrow to get me to the living room. The fireplace was lit when I got there.

We ended up having a long conversation, and I would spend the night. Donn got me my clothes out of the car.

*****

A bath. I hadn't had one of those since my younger days. My way was a shower. Tonight, I had both. Heavens forbid anyone knew I had a bubble bath, but a bubble bath I did have. It was rose scented, and yes; I ENJOYED IT, DAMMIT!!!! I didn't have that option at my apartment. It was shower only.

Surprisingly, I had no problem getting out of the tub. When I drew back my covers and found satin sheets, my pajamas came off. I'd sleep in my undies tonight. Why waste the satin?

I haven't slept this well since I was a baby.

*****

When I got up the next morning, I found a note under the door. 'Feel free to have breakfast with us before you leave. Devilled eggs, grits, French toast, corn muffins, potato pancakes, fresh fruit, orange juice, pineapple juice, hot chocolate, and tea.

Could life get any better?

Well, yes. I could live here.

But I didn’t! That’s life! I took another shower, dressed, and came down to the dining room. Several people were at the table, but Warren and Sylvia were not there. Instead, there was an Asian man, and I think the most attractive woman I ever saw in my life.

The woman waved to me. "Hi Craig. I'm Deliah, and this is Ronin."

I waved back. "Hi everybody."

"Top o' the mornin' to ya," said Donn with a wink. "Help yourself."

I did, and I totally loaded my plate. "This is quite an adventure for me," I said. "All because I almost died."

"You like it here, huh?" asked Donn.

"Very much so."

"If you want to stay for a few days, you can. You're fun to talk to," said Donn.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

Donn raised both his eyebrows, and smiled. "Dead serious."

For some strange reason, everyone at the table looked at Donn, and broke out into a smile. It seemed some wanted to laugh, as if a private joke had been told. I asked, "Who am I to argue?"

"All right," said Stefan. "Has anyone seen Percy?"

"I think he was out back with the horses," said Ronin.

"You have horses?" I asked

"Most of them are ponies that just barely missed being horses by a couple of milimetres, but yes. We have stables out back," said Donn.

"Who's Percy?"

"The head of household," said Deliah. "He's a beautiful, big, black cat."

Stefan cocked his head. "And Reggie?"

"With Percy, last I saw," said Ronin.

Stefan laughed. "I wonder what those two are gonna dish up next?"

"Reggie?" I asked.

"A bird. Beautiful, colourful, intelligent, and out of this world," said Stefan. "Him and Percy are best of friends. They even play together."

I had half a devilled egg. "A cat and a bird?!"

"The bird's the size of a medium-small chicken, or maybe a really big crow," said Stefan. "He's awesome."

Donn chuckled. "I think we can hunt them down after breakfast. We can go out back when we're done."

"OK." A bird and a cat! I had to see this.

We didn't say much more during breakfast, and I wasn't at all dismayed over that. I got to concentrate on this scrumptious meal.

Wow! To live in this lush setting for several days! But would someone take me home to get some more of my clothes? Or would I wash one, and wear the other? Oh, whatever. It didn't matter. Either option was all right.

*****

I was almost done with my plate, when Donn waved to someone behind me. "Yo, Thanatos! You're late, but thanks for bringing our two slave masters in."

I wasn't ready for this. When I turned, I saw a tall, alabaster man with alabaster hair who looked just like Donn, even down to his long, layered hair. On his right shoulder, sat an archaeopteryx, and to his left side was a big, long tailed black cat with sabre fangs. By big, I mean the size of a leopard, but it wasn't a leopard. It was more heavily built.

I looked at Stefan. "This is your bird and cat?"

"Yeah. Aren't they a trip?" asked Stefan

"What is this place? These animals should be extinct, no?" I asked.

"Nothing ever goes extinct," said Donn. "They just go somewhere else."

I nodded. "I see."

"Like you did," said Donn. "You don't live where you used to live."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I didn't save your physical body from choking to death. I only made you think so," said Donn.

"You mean I'm dead?"

"I mean; you're somewhere else. You're on the Low Etheric, and not the Physical. I just made your transfer here a little less traumatic than it might have been."

I nodded. "I see. Now what?"

"Now you explore all your options, and decide what to do next. A good way to start would be for one of us to do a mind share with you, so you can learn all the ins and outs of this place instantaneously; as opposed to a little at a time via trial and error. Then you might get a kick out of reading the book I wrote, which is actually published on Earth. I suppose that should provide you with enough insight on the potential possibilities of what can be in store for you," said Donn.

"I never dreamed death was like this, but can I ask you a question?"

Donn said, "Could I have saved you before you died? Yes, but that's not my job. I have helped a few people remain in the Physical Realm, but not by direct intervention on the Physical Plane. The only thing I ever did there, is counsel not quite successful suicides into finishing up their contracts with them selves...Stefan having been one of those. He was a woman named Kyle Shannon, on Earth; though at the time of the attempted suicide, her name was Zanna Milovich; because she hadn't changed her given name yet, which she hated with a passion. You can read all about it."

Yes, that was the question, and the answer. "OK, I guess I will. This is all mighty interesting," I said.

"Oh, don't worry. It will get even more interesting."

Indeed, it did.

Firefight

Here I was, breaking all the rules. I didn't have a choice. Lives depended on me. But how much longer could I hold out? I'd been awake over seventy hours straight, but I had to keep going. We'd lost so much already, and we could lose so much more.

I was in the ground crew, fighting a wildfire. It was the middle of summer, the winds were high, there had been a drought for the past three years, and that made for some mighty fine kindling. If someone set this fire on purpose, I think I was going to strangle the perpetrators to death myself in the courtroom!

We'd lost thousands of acres of virgin woodland, and this thing was going to eat an entire town if we didn't get it under control. It looked like beating this fire would happen in our dreams. There were no signs of containment.

I felt like I was going to pass out, but I couldn't do that. The heat, and the weight of my oxygen tank were really wearing on me. I was a pretty strong dude, but the exhaustion was taking its toll. I'd been hot-spotting the first day, cold trailing the second, and now I was working in burning out any leftovers to make sure they wouldn't flare up again. I was way beyond being any good as a dedicated shoveller now.

It was hard to talk to people who'd lost everything. Home, livelihoods, loved ones, whatever. Thinking of that was the only thing that kept me going.

Damn, why did we have to be having a heat wave? I hated the summers. This was par for the course, it earned a good living, but I didn't have to like it. If I'd known there'd be so much pain involved, I think I might have chosen another profession. To see the carcasses of wildlife hurt as much as telling someone their child had died.

*****

I was on my forth day. I was a goner. I couldn't think any more. I was seeing things and hearing things that weren't there. I just couldn't keep my eyes open. I'd pushed myself to the limit. I went down, then and there. I just collapsed, and passed out. My last thoughts were that my insurance policy would take care of my wife and two kids for life.

*****

I didn't understand what happened when I woke up. Everything was burned to a crisp around me, but I was still there with my clothes, my gear, and myself in tact. I should have been taken away from here after I'd gone down.

So what did happen? Did everyone just let me lie there? Talking about going against procedure, that one was a doozy and a half. I doubt that had ever been done to anyone before.

I sat up, and took my oxygen tank off. I'd disengaged the mouthpiece when I was out cold. My headgear was all discombobulated as well. I'm surprised I hadn't keeled over from smoke inhalation.

I took off my hood, gloves, and rain jacket. I looked around. Looks like a lot of the crew didn't make it. I saw a bunch of bodies burnt to a crisp. So why didn't the same happen to me?

I fell to the ground, and started crying. Not something that would have done if anyone were around, but being I was of a sensitive nature; and I was without an audience, it was something I had to do. I had a feeling I'd lost a few friends. It was hard enough to lose the guys who came from out of the county, but the thought of losing the guys from my station was just too much; not that I had any concrete evidence of that yet.

After I got everything out of my system, I got up and scanned the wreckage. This was my ultimate nightmare. Until the new one came into my life that I couldn't have dreamed up if I'd tried, a few minutes later; that is.

*****

I heard hoof beats, and I turned around. On a beautiful, lightly tacked, Araby, tall grey pony with a black mane, tail, and feathered hocks, was a woman...I think.

Yeah, it was a woman. She was dressed oddly. She wore a strange thing that may have been a barely legal one-piece bathing suit, if only it hadn't been made out of leather. She also wore boots, a gauntlet; a torc, there was a sword on her back, a knife at her right hip, and another one in her left boot. She had a camera, and she was taking pictures of the devastation.

The lady looked kind of tall for a woman, and was thin, but really cut. She was as defined as a lot of guys. A weight lifter who did not do steroids! She came over to me. "Wow! A survivor!"

She reached behind herself, and threw me a bottle of water. She had a nice accent.

"Thanks. Is your sword double edged?"

"All my weapons are," she said.

I opened the bottle, and had some of the water, which I really needed. I have no idea how it could have been so cold, but I wasn't going to argue. "Those are illegal."

She flexed, and caressed her right biceps. "I wouldn't recommend trying to take them away from me." She narrowed her eyes, smiled, and bared her teeth. My God, she had fangs. "I'm combat trained, and I don't wear out too easily."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I said.

"Wise."

She was pale, had the most beautiful turquoise eyes I ever saw, and had a very attractive face, despite a nose from Hell. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Pictures for an exhibit, maybe. Lot's of charred bodies here! I'm trying to make up my mind whether I should call it 'Cannibal's Delight', or 'Krispy Kritters'."

That was the last thing I needed to hear. I was pretty shocked. "That's cold!"

She flicked her wrist like a campy gay dude, and in an affected gay accent; she said, "What do you expect from a misanthrope who holds the human race in contempt?"

"What do you consider yourself?"

She stroked her nose. "A nose, considering this gorgeous thing takes up most of my body weight."

I just nodded. I had no idea on how to reply to that.

She tilted her head, and smiled. "I assume you're hungry."

"Yes. Still a little tired, too. I was on my forth day straight fighting this fire with no sleep, and I passed out. I don't even know why I'm still alive. If it weren't for my wife and kids, I'd wish I weren't."

She wrinkled her nose, and shook her head real fast. "Kids! Yeack! I don't know why people still have those infernal things! It's so easy not to. I mean, all I did was call Planned Parenthood, and I got myself spayed at nineteen. All kids are good for is stifling you. Total waste of time and resources."

I scowled. "I happen to love my children. They make my day."

She stuck her tongue out in an expression of disgust. "Well, I don't have to live with you; so whatever." The expression in her voice signified something beyond contempt.

"Thanks for the water, but go away."

She turned her pony. "Sure. Have fun walking to the next town. Yours is history. I had some fun cuttin' the rug to 'Blue Oyster Cult's' 'Dancin' In The Ruins' in those ashes. I wanted to do that when the fires of Oakland wiped parts of that city, but it was too far away. A lot of people didn't make it here, and I ain't just talkin' firefighters."

I couldn't stand this person. Still, "Wasn't it evacuated?" How did she know I lived here?

"Mostly. I guess there were a few who managed to get left behind. They may have hidden out somewhere when the authorities came."

"Gods, I hope my wife and kids got away."

"Like I could know that. But hey! Look on the bright side! Three less mouths to feed!"

*****

"Donn, I want to hang Stephanie up by the nose on a clothes line, forty stories up," said Thanatos.

"With a clothes pin?"

"If only it were possible."

*****

I think I was going to cry again. "Look, woman! After all I've been through, the garbage you're spewing out is the last thing I need to hear. Please, go away. I'll deal with what I have to deal with, without you."

"Woman?! That's Your Nostrilness, or you can call me Stephanie. Don't ever insult me like that again," she snarled. She seemed mighty upset. "Good-bye!" She exclaimed, and her pony turned and took off at a fast gallop, though she didn't even guide him with the reins. Weird. It's like the animal read her mind.

*****

I'd been walking a long time, and by dusk; the scenery hadn't changed. I'd always had a good sense of direction, but was I lost? I was famished, and I wasn't going to last much longer. I also needed more water.

I saw a small fire in the distance. It looked like a campfire. I went toward it.

Unfortunately, I found Stephanie again. This time she was dressed in black jeans, a black work shirt, and those jeans were tucked into her boots. She was unarmed this time, and she had a pot over the fire with a stew that smelled really good.

I walked up to her. She immediately threw me another bottle of water, and stirred the pot. "By for dinner?" she asked.

"I don't like you very much, after what you said to me."

She shrugged. "Fine. I have neither a liking or dislike of you, but you're still welcome to join me."

I sniffed the air. I was picking up a scent of some sort of cologne. It certainly wasn't me, who reeked to high heaven. "I suppose if I want to survive the night, or whatever; I have to take you up on that." I opened the water bottle, and drank it all at once."

Stephanie chuckled. "Sure. Stew’s about done! As for what else you're picking up, I always wear Drakkar." She filled a couple of bowls with a hearty vegetable stew, put a couple of spoons in them, and handed one in my direction. She reached beside herself, picked up a loaf of bread, broke it in half, and gave me a piece. "More water in the cooler behind me."

I sat down, and dunked the bread in the stew. This was excellent. "Why are you so down on kids?"

"The breeder cow bitch that was my incubator made me take care of the rest of her brood when I was six. They were like two and three. A royal pain, and I couldn't stand ‘em. Thank the gods I only had to deal with those pieces of intestinal waste for about five years. Worthless parasites." She gave me a psychotic look that terrified me, as she continued. "But in a way I'm glad that it happened, so I saw for real what crotch droppings are all about first hand before I could have them. They're environmental liabilities and time consuming wastes of resources, though I ended up using those resources in a more constructive fashion, because screechlings weren't there. I spent my money on something worth spending it on. A cat." The venom in her voice made me cringe.

I shook my head. "I have a completely different outlook. I love my family. Brother and sisters, too. We had our moments, but we stood up for each other. You don't seem to think too much of your mother, either."

"Can't stand her. The idiot seems to like children about as much as me, but at least I had the decency to get sterilised as opposed to having a litter, then abusing it."

That explained a bit. I'd read up enough about this. "I see. Good soup, by the way. I think I'm going to need another water."

Stephanie put her soup down, leaned over, and opened her cooler. She threw me another bottle. "Take what you need."

"Thanks." I had more water. "This terrain all looks the same! Do you have any idea where we are?"

"Yeah. It's a half a day's walk to civilisation. Too bad you're too big for Shiva."

"That your pony?"

"My equine buddy. I don't own him. We take care of each other, though."

"I'm six foot two. Yeah. You?"

"It's more a weight thing for the animals, but I'm not quite five foot nine. I hate using U.S. measurements. I tend to think in metric."

I said, "Yeah. I'm around two hundred twenty pounds. I think that's a hundred kilograms. You work out a lot?"

"Enough. Probably not enough to beat you arm wrestling. After all, I'm no match for Keith, and you're a little bigger than him."

I chuckled. "No need for that." No point to it, either. My harsh feelings for her were softening. "Who's 'Kayth'?"

"Keith Munster. You guys pronounce his name 'Keeth'." Stephanie looked off into the distance. "He's one of the two biggest inspirations in my life."

"What's the other one?"

She looked at me. "Donn Ui'Midir."

"Inspirations, huh?"

Stephanie tilted her head. "Artistic obsessions, among other things. I also work with them."

I finished my soup. "Is there enough for another bowl?"

"Sure is. Fill it up yourself." She reached around herself, and said, "Catch," as she threw me a plastic bag of something.

It was a dried fruit. "What's this?"

"Mango. Great stuff."

I had a piece. Damn straight, it was great stuff. "Thank you very much." I put it aside, as I got another bowl of stew. "I hope you don't mind, but now that I see where you're coming from; I like you a bit better."

"I guess I can live with that."

"But can I ask you not to come down so hard on the concept of family? It kind of bothers me. I mean I don't even know if my family is alive, and I love them more than anything."

"Oh, I suppose so. But if they're OK it's open season, all right?"

I just had to laugh. "Stephanie, you are baaaaaaaaaad!"

"Thanks. I try hard."

"No need to explain the obvious."

Stephanie laughed at that one.

*****

"Gods, what passes for a sense of humour with that one," said Thanatos.

"I'm used to it by now."

"Expecting it, but will I ever be inured?"

"Doubt it. Don't worry, though. She'll come through for us, the ol' button pusher."

*****

"I never told you my name. Sorry. I'm Oliver Randall," I said.

"OK. I guess you can use the sleeping bag tonight."

"What about you?"

"I'll sleep when we get home. I'm fine. I don't need much. I have a pillow for you, and you can use the saddle if you need more head support. It's light. Almost like a racing saddle."

"Where is Shiva?"

"He runs free when I don't need him. When I whistle, he'll come. He's very intelligent."

"A stallion, huh?"

"Aye. A real sweetheart! You get out of a horse or pony what you put into them."

"No problems with him being un-gelded, huh?"

"No. Why? Do you have any problems being un-gelded, assuming you are?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "No, but I don't think it's the same thing."

Stoically, she asked me, "Are you sure?"

"I don't think I want to go there," I said...with a slightly nervous chuckle.

She raised her water bottle to me. "Don't worry about it." She smiled, bearing her fangs again.

"Uh, can I ask about the teeth?"

"Implants. Keith got them first."

"Interesting. Is he your boyfriend?"

"Sort of. My relationship with him is about identical to my relationship with Donn."

"Never mind." I didn't want to begin to even try to imagine...

Stephanie finished her bowl of soup, put some water into it, and set it aside after putting her spoon into it. She got up. "I'm going for a walk. Make yourself comfortable."

"A walk? This time of night?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I like the graveyard shift. I'll be back for when you wake up. Then we'll go...home."

"Where is home?"

She pointed in hell knows what direction. "Nineteen kilometres that way."

"That doesn't sound good."

"Around twelve miles."

I shrugged. That sounded better, but still not good. "Oh well."

"Finish eating, fill your bowl with water, and go to sleep."

"Now THAT sounds good."

*****

The sleeping bag was pretty thick. It was made for Antarctic weather, and this was a warm summer night. I ended up sleeping on it, instead of in it. It was nice to have some padding under me, and I was also self-conscious of being pretty rank. It's been almost a week since I had a shower. I didn't want to mess up the interior of her sleeping bag. I was too tired to think about it for very long, and I passed out shortly. My sleep was deep, and I could remember no dreams.

*****

When I woke up, everything had been cleaned up. Shiva had a pack on him, and Stephanie was standing beside him. When I looked up, she said, "Damn, it took you long enough to wake up. No time for a real breakfast, but here's some dried bananas for ya," she said, as she threw me a sealed plastic bag with some whole, dried, semi-soft bananas. "Water's in the bag on Shiva."

"Thanks." I picked up the bag of bananas, and got up. I felt so disgusting. My teeth needed brushing, I needed a shower, and I couldn't stand myself. "First river we come to, I'm taking a bath," I said.

"That'll be about halfway there."

Stephanie's hair looked freshly washed, and she looked like she was fresh out of the shower. "How do you stay so clean out here?"

She smiled, baring those fangs again. "I have my ways."

"Hopefully you'll share your secret with me?"

"Later today," she said.

"Why not now?"

"There's a time and a place for everything, and now is neither of those."

"OK. What did you do with your weapons?"

"They're home. I don't need them. They were to prove a point."

I nodded. "They did. What was that skimpy thing you were wearing the first time we met?"

"I was just indulging in my warrior-slut phantasies, though the slut days are over."

"Don't worry. My wife is my one and only."

"I respect that. Any Donn and Keith are my two and only."

I looked down and sighed. "All right."

"Don't worry. Everybody knows about each other. After all, I'm the one that started out as the third wheel."

I looked at her. "That's really too much information."

"You have no idea how often I hear that line. Come on. Let's go."

"What about the sleeping bag, saddle and pillow?"

Stephanie shrugged. "Leave them. They'll take care of themselves."

"That's littering."

Stephanie waved her arm across the landscape. "Look at this! Who cares? We have to go!"

"OK."

*****

Me, Stephanie, and Shiva all walked. We went kind of fast, and even broke into a trot every once in a while.

The landscape ended up looking better after a few miles. Green and lush! There were even a few fruit trees. I don't remember ever seeing that. We picked some as we walked. The peaches were great. "Where are we?" I asked.

"About six kilometres closer to home. We're almost at the river...or stream, rather."

"That's good to hear," I said. "Don't look, when we get there."

"Believe me, I have no inclination!" The tone of her voice had an insulting quality.

"Yeah. Can't wait to get hold of a toothbrush and razor again, either."

"Got a spare unused toothbrush in the bag. Toothpaste and soap, too! You're gonna be stuck with your scruffy beard and 'stash for a few more hours, though."

"Cool. I can live with that. Thanks."

*****

When we got to the stream, Stephanie handed me a towel, a bar of soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, a pair of men's underwear, and a pair of jeans. "Where did you get all this, and the clothes?"

"I went home and got them. The pants were an accidental purchase. Keith is a lot lighter than you, though he's almost as tall. They don't fit him, but they may fit you."

"How nice."

"Do what you gotta do. I'll be waiting."

"Thanks."

*****

The water was damn cold. It was torture, but after I brushed my teeth, I entered the water. I got out, soaped myself up, rinsed myself off outside of the stream, got in again for a more thorough rinse, dried off, got into the fresh clothes, and my boots. When I went back to Stephanie, I asked, "No shirt?"

"I forgot. It don't matter, though. You ain't got tits."

Neither do you. I didn't say that out loud, though. Well, we were walking in the shade, and it was warm. I wouldn't burn, and I wouldn't freeze. "No big deal. Bag the old clothes?"

"Sure. And everything else. We'll discard them at home."

"We're going to where you live, right?" I asked.

"Aye. It's the only place I can think of going."

"Then what?"

"Then we find out about your wife and crotch droppings."

"Stephanie!"

"Land mine detectors."

"Girl, that is not much better!"

"YOUR NOSTRILNESS!!!!!!!!"

"I'll call you Your Nostrilness when you start referring to my children as children!"

"All right, your CHILDREN!"

"Yes, Your Nostrilness." I almost couldn't believe this conversation was happening. "Do you put every parent you meet through this?"

"I try, but I don't always succeed."

"What stops you?" I asked.

"Circumstances."

"Like?"

"Keith or Donn threatening never to pet my nose again if I do it in this or that case."

"You are kidding, right?"

"No!"

"I'm NOT going to ask!"

"What if I tell you anyway?" asked Stephanie.

"May I request that you don't?"

"You may request anything you want. Will I heed your request?"

"I'll pet your nose if you do," I said.

"Deal!"

She presented her nose, and I stroked it once. "Thank you," I said.

"OK, so I lied when my days of being a slut are over. But let's keep this nose pet thing between you and me, OK?"

I just shook my head.

*****

After a while, we came to a dirt path. The trees were thicker than ever, and more varied than I knew them to be in these parts. "Are we almost there?" I asked.

"Almost. We're going in the back way."

I shrugged. Whatever difference that made.

The path soon became cobbled stone. "Your pony isn't shod," I said.

"Doesn't need it. It's not really that good for them. We don't ride our animals much on hard ground, and when we do; it's usually at a walk. They have strong hooves, too. There's never been any problems in all their days."

I didn't know enough about horses to argue. "Oh."

In a little while, we came to a huge wall with a door. Stephanie opened the door. "This is one of the back entrances to the garden."

"The garden?"

"Aye. We have to go through it to get to the castle."

"Castle?" You live in a castle?" I asked.

"Ayuh! The House Of Donn."

When the three of us walked through the door, I saw the castle. "Wow! Where are we? I had no idea we had anything like this in the neighbourhood."

"There's lots of things you don't know, and probably wouldn't want to admit to knowing even if you did know them...for a little while longer."

"What's that mean?"

"Let's wait until we get to the castle."

"What's the difference of you explaining now or then?" I asked.

"Believe me when I tell you there is one. Now, let's enjoy the garden." Stephanie looked up to the sky. "And I think we arrived at a good time." She looked at me. "Dinner should be on the table when we get to the dining room."

I looked around. "Thanks. This garden is huge. I've never seen such a collection of perfect flowers. The smells are heavenly."

"I've never seen a better garden than this. Donn is responsible for the landscaping."

"And all these gazebos and fountains? European styles, the pagoda styles! This is great. And the statues! Why are the torches burning now? It's daylight."

"They always burn. This place is the best on a foggy night."

"That might be a while. Never happens here in the summer."

"Oh, yes it does," said Stephanie. "We can all come out here later, after dark. You can see the whole thing."

"How long am I staying here?"

"As long as you want."

"Does Donn know about me?"

"He sure does. So do Keith, and everyone else who lives here. You are welcome by everyone. Katiya, Sophie, and Vincent are already here."

"My wife and kids? How?"

"They got here first. Roughly all at the same time! They petitioned Keith to pull a few strings to get you here, even though you had an initial contract and destiny to go somewhere else."

"What are you saying?"

Stephanie pointed down the path toward a little bridge. "Look."

Four people were running toward us. There was a light redheaded person who I think was a lady, someone who looked like my wife, and another man and woman. I smiled. "That looks like Katiya. Who are the other three?"

"Donn, Sophie, and Vincent."

I scowled. "That red head is a dude?"

"Aye."

"My kids? But they're just kids. Those two are adult."

"This is the Etheric Realm. There are no crotch droppings here. That's for the Physical Realm. Dude, you did not survive the fire. Nobody did. You have been transitioned to this realm with no knowledge of what really happened. I brought you here through the illusions that you experienced."

"Thank you, I guess." I'd digest that in a little bit. Now I wanted to hug my wife and kids. "Let's run, and get to them a minute or so faster."

Stephanie took off all out. I went right after her.

When our groups were just a little apart, I stopped, and extended my arms. Me, Katiya, Sophie and Vincent all got into a group hug. Stephanie and Donn stood side by side, and both wrapped one arm around each other. "I am soooooo glad to see you all again," I said to my family. "I hope you guys getting here wasn't too bad."

Katiya said, "Donn said we died of smoke inhalation, but none of us have any memory of that. To us, he was changing the tire of his car in front of our place when we got home from the store, and he pointed out the fire was getting close, and we had to evacuate fast by choice or by government force. I saw the smoke in the distance, and was confused of what I was supposed to do. Donn showed me his drivers licence with his address, told me to copy it down if I didn't trust him, and offered to let us stay at his place until the threat was over. I took the kids, and he drove us all here. I have no idea how we got here, or what really happened or how we actually died; but this is a great place. There is so much to learn, and we can borrow the horses."

I looked at Stephanie. "So I'm dead?!"

"We prefer the term 'transferred', but basically. Donn is an Irish death god who prefers the title 'Gate Keeper', Keith is also known as Thanatos; which is a name you are familiar with, and I'm a newer, un-deified Gate Keeper who also happens to be an obnoxious twit."

"Nice. I'm not going to argue with you on your last statement, Your Nostrilness."

All of us ended up laughing over that one.

I would have all my questions answered now.

The Wreck Of The Cecelia

We would have landed our haul six in more hours, if we didn't hit this storm.

It was bad. The waves were high, and they were breaking. We had the sails down, and were running with bare poles. We were also running with the wind and waves.

Well, I knew the risks of being a fisherman. This isn't the first time I'd weathered a storm this bad with the crew. Apparently it would be my last. The next wave pitchpoled the boat! We capsized, end over end. I was at the starboard bow, and was thrown clear into the frigid water. I don't know what I got hit with, but I got knocked out. My life flashed before my eyes right before I lost consciousness.

*****

I couldn't believe what happened. I came to, as someone was pulling me out of the now very calm waters. I shouldn't have survived what I survived.

I was barely aware of the sun at the horizon. Was it rising or setting?

I had a headache. A real bad headache!

I looked at the man who rescued me. He wore a hooded robe. I couldn't make out much of the face. The skin of his hands was pale, and he looked thin, from what I saw of his wrists and forearms.

He had dragged me into a little rowboat. "Anyone else alive?" I croaked? I was as thirsty as hell.

He gave me a leather bag of liquid. "No. Here's some water."

I took it, and unscrewed the top. "Thanks." I drank it right, and squirted it into my mouth without touching the dispenser. Damn, I needed that. "I wonder how the Hell I lived through that."

"What happened?"

"I'm a fisherman. Our boat pitchpoled."

"Wow! Pretty impressive that you're here," said the man.

"Where are we?"

The man sat down, and took hold of his oars. "By my island. We're a few kilometres away from County Cork. We're just at the horizon line from the mainland if you're on a tall cliff. Look to your left."

I did. This island of his was huge. There was an immense castle on it. I wasn't aware we had such a huge body of land southwest of Ireland. "I hope I don't freeze to death before you make it back?"

"Then I'll row faster," he said.

He did.

I didn't say anything else to him. I didn't want to distract him. I have no idea how long it took him to dock, but to me; it seemed like forever.

*****

I couldn't see the sun anymore. It was on the opposite side of the island, but the sky seemed the same shade of twilight. "Is it morning or evening?" I asked.

"It's the eve," he said as he tied the boat up. "I'm glad I decided to take a pleasure trip this afternoon."

"So am I," I said with a smile. "I'm Herbert Frye, by the way. Everyone calls me Herb."

He threw back his hood. He looked quite young. Even though I wasn't into those of male persuasion, I had to admit he was damn beautiful. From the face alone, it was impossible to tell what he was. "Vergil."

I extended my shivering hand. "Pleased to meet you, Vergil. I'm glad you didn't say 'Donn'."

He laughed. "Come on! Let's get you inside, and warmed up."

"Please."

It was cold here, but at least there wasn't much of a wind chill to make me even more miserable in my sopping clothes.

Time had virtually stopped for me. The trip to solid ground from the mooring dock seemed eternal. I felt like I was going to lose body parts. I was so uncomfortable; I rather wish I had died.

We walked along a cobbled path to a small bridge that crossed the moat. Of course the gates were open, and under the thick arches we walked. "Oh damn! How big is this courtyard?"

"Forty metres to the entrance from the gate. Hate to tell you, but the inside isn't much warmer than this. We have a lot of fireplaces, though. We have to get you out of those clothes as fast as possible. I have some spare léines." (Yeah, I; Donn Ui’Midr, suppose I shoulda used the accents all along, but I didn’t, OK? So shoot me! For all the good it’ll do.)

"You want me to wear a dress?"

"Herb! I'm wearing one under this robe. I've got it belted to mid calf, and the warriors of yore wore them."

I looked at his feet. He was wearing boots with his robe and léine. "My wife has a couple. Do you have a phone out here so I can call her?"

"Surely you jest? How can they get the wires out here?"

"Never mind." I looked up at the castle. "This is yours?"

"It's shared. I don't live here by myself."

"You've got to give me the coordinates of this place. I never knew it was here," I said.

"We'll figure that out in a little bit. First, we have to take care of you."

"Thanks." I swear; I was shivering so hard I could barely walk anymore.

"We've got a spa at the other end of the castle. The water's hot, potentially oiled, and always filtered."

"Oiled?"

"We can release various scented oils. There’re rose, sandalwood, jasmine, musk, magnolia, lavender, and a few others. The spa is in a dark room lit by various gas torches; so all the flames are different colours! There's also obsidian statuary. You could have that to yourself for a while. But first, you should really change out of those wet clothes. You can do that almost as soon as we get inside," said Vergil.

I looked ahead. I felt we should have already been inside.

I was feeling so strange, and more than a little disoriented. Everything seemed to be taking so much longer than it should. My sense of time felt thoroughly corrupted.

We walked up some steps to a huge verandah, and then walked inside. It must be great sitting out on that covered porch in the rain.

The halls were lit up by torchlight. Real fire, just like in the old days! This place was incredible. It must have been thousands of years old, but it looked completely renovated. Everything was in perfect condition. There wasn't a chipped stone in sight. It was beautiful, and so damn cold.

Vergil pulled his robe off, and he was wearing a black embroidered léine. He looked pretty good in it. I saw he also had some damn long hair. I wish mine was half as thick, but I suppose I should be glad I still had most of mine at age forty-seven. I looked him over. He was a little shorter than me, and looked quite a bit lighter. "How'd a scrawny thing like you pull me from the water?"

He shrugged. "Desperation, maybe." He pointed to a door to my right. "That's a closet. I'm putting my robe in there, and you can get into a dry léine. Any one that you like! You can leave your wet clothes on the floor outside of the door. There's enough room in the closet to change, though you won't have any light; so you might want to shed some of your things in the hall."

"I'll do that."

"I'll face away for more privacy."

Vergil turned away, so I got out of everything but my underwear, pulled a tan léine out, got into it letting it almost hit the floor, got back in the closet, removed the underwear, and threw it into the pile. I got back into my wet shoes, but this was a little better. "I'm ready," I said. I hadn’t belted it up, and it came to just above my ankles.

Vergil turned around, and nodded. "Not bad, huh?"

"It's OK. Just don't tell my wife or...well, my mates are all dead, so never mind! They probably know already."

Vergil smiled. "Probably, being there's no such thing as dead."

"Aye. I know. I must be one of the most haunted men on the planet."

"Let's go to one of the hall fireplaces and have some tea. We have fireplace cranes in most of them, a water spigot by them, with a tea service set. We do that for a reason."

My left eyebrow went up. "Water spigots by the fireplace?"

"We had some modifications done."

"That must have cost."

"Little bit."

When we went around the first corner, I saw one of those fireplaces. Raised hearth you could sit on, and I even had a choice of flavours. Earl Grey, China black with mango, Darjeeling, and jasmine. There was even a ceramic container of sugar cubes there, with the service set. Nice!

Vergil grabbed a bag of Earl Grey from one of the boxes, filled the teakettle with water, put it on the fireplace crane, and put the kettle over the fire. "It'll be ready in a few minutes."

I sat down, relishing the warmth of the fire. I put a bag of Darjeeling into an empty cup. I wasn't sure I wanted to leave this, being I was finally comfortable; but that spa really sounded interesting.

There were so many rooms here. Many were open, and they all looked different. So out of place.

Luxurious, and well decorated, but they had nothing to do with each other. "What are these rooms?" I asked.

"Each room is dedicated to a different historical culture. I'm a history buff."

"This is like a museum, then. Do you hold tours?"

"Yes."

"How much," I asked.

"Nothing. Don't need anything. Would you like one later?"

"Sure. Looks like it's going to take some time."

"It will," said Vergil. "It's not important, though. Not many see it all, but the option is yours."

"How big is this place?"

"You wouldn't believe me, and I'm not going to tell you." The teakettle was ready, and he poured the water into our cups.

I chuckled, and agitated my tea bag. "All right. Later for the tour! This is good tea. You know, when I first saw you in your little rowboat, I thought I'd met The Ferryman, or something."

Vergil tilted his head. "Dude! This is Ireland, not Greece."

"And you look too young to be Charon," I said.

He smiled. "And you mentioned Donn. It's nice to come across someone familiar with the myths of the world."

"I'm a history buff, too. Can you give me a partial tour after the spa?"

"Sure can. In fact, why don't I start as soon as we start walking again? I'll tell you what country the room represents, when the civilisation was around, and what made it stand out."

"OK. You can do that with every room?"

"Sure can."

"Pretty amazing that you can retain all that." I had a sip of my tea. Great stuff!

"Hey! I'm obsessed! If your priorities were as mine, you could do it too."

"If you say so."

After we finished our tea, off we went. This kid really impressed me. His intelligence was astounding.

*****

I forgot all about being cold in the excitement of the tour. The rooms were not in any order, but Vergil had his lectures down flawlessly. I was beginning to wonder what he was. How can anyone retain so much? And at so young an age?! We walked quite a few halls.

"You said others live here?" I asked.

"Hm hm. When we have dinner, you can meet some of them; like whoever decides to dine at the communal table tonight."

"Sure, but when can you take me home to my wife?"

"We can do that after dinner. The spa is just around the corner."

"Can I bring her here to show her this?"

Vergil closed his eyes. "Yes. She can come here soon. Very soon." He smiled, and opened his eyes. "You're very close, huh?"

"Aye, but it's hard. I'm at sea a lot, and we never see each other. Also, I'm in one of the most dangerous professions there are."

"Considering how I found you, I can see that."

I chuckled. "Aye."

We went around the corner, and there was a closed door. "It's like a sauna the minute you step in there," said Vergil. "Your tunic is gonna be a'soppin' in no time. I'm gonna get you some fresh clothes. Keith's should fit you. The pants might be a little long, but hey."

"Keith?"

"Keith Munster. One of my best friends! He looks a lot like me, only taller, albino, and with modified teeth and eyes. He had fangs implanted, and his eyes glow."

I scowled. "How do you make the eyes glow?"

"Some sort of weird implant. You'll have to ask Keith if we meet him. I can't remember the details."

I tilted my head. "But you can remember all the civilisations of every room you showed me?"

Vergil shrugged. "Selective memory, and selective intelligence."

I had to laugh. "I like you."

"I like you too. Now go and enjoy yourself. I'll be back in a little bit. You ought to leave your shoes in the hall to dry out."

"Thanks. I will."

Vergil walked off, and I took my shoes off. When I stepped into the room, I was inclined to take off the léine, and hang it on the door lever outside of the spa. What a neat room.

It was huge. There were black glass animals of myth. There was a unicorn, a winged horse, a gryphon, a dragon, and many others. There were a few benches, and then there was the spa. It could seat quite a few people.

There was a shower area, and I went there first. There was a single knob for the water, and that water was tepid. It never got cold or hot! Strange, but not bad. The soap was rose. That's not the scent I would have chosen, but I had no choice. It wasn't bad, but it struck me more as a soap for the ladies.

The lighting in this room was fascinating. It was dimly lit by gas torches, and I wondered if they ever went out?! All the colours and the perpetual mist gave this place an eerie atmosphere, but it was peaceful. I loved it.

I slowly entered the whirlpool. There were some knobs of different colours. I turned a tan one, and I saw something emitted into the water. It generated some mild suds, was oily, and when I smelled it, I found it had a strong sandalwood scent. This was great. I picked a good one, though I had no idea what I was doing.

I turned the knob back, and the flow of the oil stopped. How much was I supposed to put in here?

I had no idea, but what I had was sufficient; I guess. All I know is that I must have been in there a hell of a long time.

When I finally got out of there, I was quite toasty; and I found a towel hanging from the door latch, as well as some clothing. Everything had been on hangers. There were even some shoes. They were made of soft black suede, and had fringes on them. Moccasins. It was the first pair I ever saw.

Everything basically fit. There was also a piece of paper taped to the door with written instructions on where to go.

Left at the second hall, right at the third, right at the second, then I was there.

Easy enough.

It was a living room-type set up. Vergil was there with a redhead of undetermined gender, dressed in a strange, out of date suit that one might find on a titled Victorian gentleman, and a tall attractive blonde woman. A black house cat was with them. The blonde woman had the cat in her lap.

"Hello," I said, looking at Vergil.

Vergil stood up, as did the other two. The blonde woman held the cat. "Hello. This is Stephanie Shannon, Sylvia Plath, and the cat is Percy. That is Herb Frye," said Vergil.

So the redhead was a woman. The name ‘Sylvia Plath’ sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I waved, and said, “Hello again to everyone.”

They all waved back, except for the cat; and Vergil said, "Have a seat anywhere you like. Sorry, but I didn't want to wait for you. The experience of that spa is kind of addictive for novices, and they tend to stay a while."

"You're tellin' me," I said. "It's OK. Leaving me the directions on how to get here is fine. I wouldn't have felt good over you waiting for me." I walked over to them, and sat in a comfortable lounge chair.

"Thanks. We're waiting for two more individuals to show up, then we're going to have dinner."

"From what you said, I'd really like to meet Keith," I said.

"That's one who we're waiting for. The other one's a Brianna."

I smiled. "That's my wife's name."

"Common name in these parts," said Stephanie.

"True," I said.

"Aye, Keith is pretty awesome. I never saw anything like him in any way. He's nice, too," said Stephanie. She pointed to a teakettle and some wafer cookies on the coffee table. "The pot is fresh. Help yourself to some tea and cookies."

"Thank you." I got up, poured some tea, and creamed it. I grabbed two wafers, and sat down again. I dunked one of the wafers, and was inundated by a strong buttery flavour. "These are good. Darjeeling tea?" I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was famished.

"Yes," said Vergil.

"One of my favourites," I said. "After dinner, I should really be headed for the mainland. My Brianna’'s probably worried about me. She may have heard of the wreck, and...and...oh gods, I hope she wasn't serious about killing herself if anything happened to me!" A touch of panic rose up in me.

"I'm sure she's fine," said Vergil.

"How can you know that?" I asked.

He pointed down the hall. "Wait a few seconds, and you'll find out."

I stood up, as I heard the footsteps.

My wife, dressed in finery I'd never seen her in before; was being guided to this room by none other than Keith. A tall, snow coloured man with neon eyes, whose facial features were identical to Vergil's. When Brianna saw me, she ran to me. "Herb!" I got a tight embrace, and had no reason to know why I was deserving of it.

"Brianna! How'd you get here?" I embraced her back.

"Keith walked me here after I helped myself to the yew. I heard your boat went down. No survivors."

"But I did survive."

"No you didn't," said Vergil. "And I go by two names. So does Keith. It was Stephanie's idea to call me Vergil before she knew my name, and Macha The Red named The Great White, Keith, before she knew who he really was. My other name is Donn Ui'Midir, and Keith's other name is Thanatos. You're on Tech Duinn."

I looked at him with a scowl. "But what about you rescuing me with your boat?"

"I gave you the illusion that you didn't get transferred to this side of The Veil. I let you think you survived, and despite the cold; you did enjoy yourself, no?"

I had to chuckle. I stepped back from Brianna, and looked at her. "And what did you go through to come here?"

"I just woke up with Thanatos sitting on the edge of the bed, telling me we were going to meet you. Somehow our back yard developed a path to get onto this island. We walked here through a beautiful garden. You've just got to see it. It's out back."

I embraced Brianna again. "I got here by rowboat. If this is death, this is wonderful. I never heard of anything like this."

"I expected Donn, not Thanatos," said Brianna. She looked at Donn. "Though they do look a bit alike."

"Long story," said Keith...Thanatos...whatever. "Very soon, you can read about it."

"I look forward to it," I said.

And what a story it was.

Now why did Stephanie start whistling, *'As I Roved Out'?

Not that I minded, for it was a nice song, but...

*’As I Roved Out’ was the tune Gordon Lightfoot ‘borrowed’ for The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Stef bein’ Stef, and all; what did you expect?

Living And Dying For Misguided Priorities

Stephanie, Percy the sabre cat, and Reggie the archaeopteryx, and I were in the Elysian Fields, though the place was hardly all fields! There were mountains, hills, oceans, dense forests, jungles, and what have you. There just weren't any deserts. We were on a flat part of one of these mountains, under a few willows, with a fast running stream right next to us. The water was snowmelt, and it was crystal clear.

I was lying down, Stephanie was using the crook of my arm as a headrest, Percy had his head on my chest, and Reggie was on my abdomen. I was everyone's pillow, but I didn't mind. With my right hand, I was playing with Stephanie's hair, and my left hand was divided between stroking Percy's head and Reggie's back and sides. "I wonder when Thanatos will be done with his sculpture?" asked Stephanie.

Thanatos had gotten into stone carving, and was working on a marble horse for the halls of the Akashic Castle. "We could time trip forward, but why bother?" I asked. "He'll come back here with us after he's done. After all, he could use some time without us."

Stephanie sat up, untied her cloak; and let it fall. She stroked Reggie and Percy with a gloved hand, and then stretched. "Want to go for a ride later?"

'Can I have my own horse?' asked Reggie telepathically.

Percy looked at Reggie. 'If Donn designs a saddle so you can keep your talons out of my flesh, you can ride me.'

'I was being sarcastic. I'll fly, thank you,' sent Reggie.

"You so funny," said Stephanie to Reggie.

"I'd love to ride later, though in the flats. I don't like riding down steep inclines," I said. "I'm also sorry, but I'm getting a hankering to do another case now. It's been forever, you know?"

"A rather nice forever, I must say," said Stephanie. She looked into my mind. "Eritrea, huh? I've never met a Tigrinya. You want to take on a soldier girl?"

"Aye. 1998."

"I used to like that place," said Stephanie. "It was progressive for a while. Too bad Isaias Afewerki turned it into the mess it was when I...when you brought me to Tech Duinn. I'm game in joining you for this one."

I smiled at her. "Afewerki almost makes Nero look like a saint. Coming with me would be good, but stay as you are." By that, I meant for her, or rather, 'it' to remain in female form.

"Will do," said Stephanie

'I don't think you'll need us for this one,' conveyed Reggie.

"You're right. You two would not be conducive for this case. Can you now both please get off of me so I can sit up?" I asked of Percy and Reggie.

They did, with Reggie being careful not to hurt me. Percy stretched out, himself; and conveyed to me, 'Too bad. I think it would be sooooo much fun to go down to Africa looking like this.'

I sat up, chuckled, and scratched the cat behind the ears. "I'm not dealing with a poacher, babe. I'm dealing with a freedom fighter. And please don't go on your own, you little trouble maker."

Percy got before me, kind of half straddled my thighs in the way only a big cat could, put his paws on my shoulder, and pressed the bridge of his nose against mine. 'Who ya callin' little, buster?!' This experience was almost a 'cliché' by now.

I embraced him as best as I could. "You used to be a house cat, baby-cat."

He rubbed the side of his face against mine. 'Just messin' with ya, love.' He got off me, and rubbed against my shoulder. 'I'll miss you.'

I kissed Percy on his left temple. "I'll miss you too, but we won't be long. In fact, we'll time trip back so it'll seem like we've been gone for a little while, OK?"

'OK. Gonna bring...uh...Ayana here afterward, or Tech Duinn?' asked Percy.'

I stroked his head again. "I haven't decided yet. It'll depend on her. We'll let you know." I stood up, and so did Stephanie, picking up her cloak on the way.

Stephanie asked, "I suppose I should change my clothes?" She (it) was in her (its...) usual 'Count Dracula' garb.

I looked down at my black tunic. "We better both change our clothes. How's about military camo, like Ayana's?"

Stephanie closed her eyes to get from me exactly what it looked like. "Will do." She did, and so did I.

I embraced her, and kissed her enormous honker. "You're a cute soldier."

She returned my hold. "So are you. Should we change race for this?"

"Nahhhhh. Pretend you're a foreign aide medic."

After we held each other for a while, we were off to a skirmish west of Badme.

*****

Ayana. An apolitical 19 year old who just did what she had to do. This meant she ended up getting felled by a few Ethiopian bullets. In reality, her physical body was laying there on autopilot, with heart beating for another 4 hours. What Ayana barely perceived, was two white outlanders putting her on a stretcher; and taking her away, not that there was even the remotest chance of this happening; but Ayana was in no condition to question her reality. She'd be 'unconscious' in a few minutes.

There was something wrong. "Wait a minute. I'm picking up a little nuisance. Subtle, but there."

We both had stopped. Stephanie closed her eyes. "She's circumcised. Didn't heal right."

I nodded. I fixed it. "Not anymore."

"She's gonna throw a fit when she finds out."

"I'm a white witch doctor, OK? I'll turn a staff into a snake, then back again to prove it. I didn't touch her. She'll get over it! It would be better if she 'comes to' in a closed off environment. Let's give her the picture of having moved her to the periphery of the battle, so to speak; set up a tent with a bunch of first aid equipment, and put her on a gurney."

And so it was.

Three bullets had been in her. No problem. Hey! In this parallel illusion of life, she would awaken fully healed; except for the scars from where I'd allegedly removed the bullets.

She would be conscious soon, and we would make her as comfortable as possible. Stephanie wrinkled her nose. "Ayana is more into coffee than tea."

"So, have a latte sans the foam which I couldn't explain. You like that."

"Shall I get adventurous and try it with camel's milk?"

I scowled. "Makes sense, considering that's what they mostly drink around here; but I never had that. Hazelnut latte with camel's milk?"

Stephanie wrinkled her nose. "How's about cows milk for me or us and camel's milk for her?"

"Actually, I wanna try plain camel's milk latte with sugar, nutmeg and cinnamon."

"Sure. I'll experiment, too."

"OK." I manifested a small stove, along with small table, several jugs of water, a coffee pot, a bowl, a hand blender, six cups, large canisters of coffee, sugar, salt, and small canisters of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, allspice, pepper, dried onion, and dried garlic; not that we had any intention of using over half this stuff. It was there for show. "Does this look realistic enough?"

Stephanie shrugged. "It's probably cleaner than you'd expect, but who's gonna complain?"

"True," I said as I stood up and took Ayana's hand. We were ready for her to reach a state of awareness, and I gave her a little push in that direction.

Ayana opened her eyes.

"You feeling OK?" I asked with a smile.

"Yes. Where am I?" she asked.

I didn't answer her question. "I had to take three bullets out of you. You're not hurting, right?"

"No. What happened?"

"I don't think you'll be fighting anymore."

"I will after I heal. I must."

"What if we can get you out of Eritrea?" I asked.

"I love Eritrea, and I have family here. Uh...I wasn't raped, was I?"

I shook my head. "No, but I fixed the damage that was done to you as a young child."

She knew exactly what I was talking about, and looked at me in horror. "How can you have done that?"

I looked at Stephanie. "Might as well get this over with." I looked back at Ayana. "The same way I do this. Look at your milked coffee on the table." I pointed to it.

She did. One of the cups disappeared. It appeared in my hand. "OK with you?" I asked.

"You're a witch!" Ayana declared.

"A white witch doctor." said Stephanie. "He used his powers to repair the ill healing of a barbaric cultural practise that should never have been, and put you back as God meant you to be. You were in pain, right?" The legends around here could come in handy some times.

She shook her head with a scowl. "Yes, but I don't know what to say. The Bible says witches should be killed."

"It's OK. I'm a good witch. I just didn't want you to hurt anymore. I can feel what you feel." I raised the cup. "This is half coffee, and half camel's milk, with sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. I made some for all of us. Would you like this?" I held it under her nose.

She was under the illusion she was hungry, and it sure smelled good. "Not poisoned?"

I looked up at the ceiling. "Stef, can you please get up and bring the other cups over?" I took the cup back, and had a sip. It was a little different and would take some getting used to, but I wouldn't say it was bad. Just a taste that I could acquire later! "No, not poisoned. Hurting you is the last thing on our minds. After all, we risked our lives on the battlefield to get you to safety."

Stephanie gave Ayana one of the cups, and had a sip, herself. Stef raised the cup to me. "Good stuff, Vergil."

I raised my cup back. "Thanks. I like cow's milk a little better, but I could get used to this in no time."

Ayana had some. "I never had coffee like this before. Yes, this is good. Also, I do feel better; but how am I going to get a husband now?"

Stephanie scowled. "Why do you even need a husband?"

"Every woman has one. That's the way it is. Unless he dies or she gets divorced or something."

Stephanie said, "I used to have one, but I wish I'd never married. He was a waste of time, and cost me a lot of money."

"What?" asked Ayana, in shock.

"In my culture, we do not cut the women; and women sometime support men. In fact, is some households; what the woman says, goes. If she makes more money than him, you know?"

Seeing Ayana's stunned expression, I had to chuckle. "Too much information at once, Stef."

Stephanie gave me a wicked smile. "So you don't want me to give her my opinion on children?"

That one made me laugh so hard; I couldn't even answer.

"Why is he laughing like that?" asked Ayana.

"Oh, it's just that my opinion on having children isn't that high. When I look at a child, the first thing that crosses my mine it that it might make a good stew or roast."

"That's horrible!" Ayana was not laughing.

"Don't worry, I never ate anybody. I just say that to get people upset."

Ayana had another sip of the latte. "You succeeded. Are you U.N. or something?"

I was starting to control myself. "No." I had to wait another few seconds. "Ever hear of Doctors Without Borders?" That sounded like a good excuse to be here.

"No," said Ayana.

Stephanie said, "The U.N. is bad news. It looks good on paper, but they don't do what they're supposed to do. Sometimes they abuse the people they're supposed to protect."

"I heard," said Ayana. "I never met anyone from the U.N." She finished her latte.

I cocked my head. "Neither have I. You must be hungry."

"I am."

I closed my eyes. I searched her mind, and was inspired to materialise a chicken dish called 'tsebhi dorho', a bread called 'taita,' and a spicy lentil mixture on a tray, along with more latte, and a glass of water. Needless to say, she was delighted. Of course, she was also won over. You can seduce just about any living creature over to your side with food. The only difference between people and animals; is that animals take longer to come around when dealing in the so-called 'mortal' realms. I ended up moving next to Stephanie, as Ayana ate. Stef and I didn't instigate any conversation while she finished up. We'd have a long talk after she finished eating, though. Stephanie talked about how it was for her when she was alive, and Ayana talked about her past from as early as she could remember, to now.

*****

Ayana was very patriotic, proud of being a soldier, proud of having killed eight of the opposition, and really believed in her country. There was no changing that. If only she knew what the future had in store, like the fact there was no future for Eritrea; and that Isaias Afewerki was an evil tyrant, but there was no way I could convince her. Overriding her programming was more than I could do without breaking a few rules.

"What's your ideal life?" I asked.

"Own a farm with my future husband, if I can find one now, have five or six children, raise chickens, goats, and take care of a few camels, oxen for the plow, and maybe have a few horses.

Stephanie didn't quite gag when Ayana said she wanted five or six children. Ayana noticed. "You really don't like children, Stephanie?"

"I like my time and resources too much. I cringe at the concept of the pain of childbirth, and looking like a watermelon factory (Stef loved that analogy) doesn't do anything for me either. I got surgically sterilised before having sex to make sure I'd never have any. It's easier than getting an abortion with each contraceptive failure. In urban settings, children are a liability. Good for nothing but holding you back. I know it's different here, though. In an agricultural society you need children to help you with the land. Anyway, it's your life, and your trip. What works for me isn't going to work for you. After all, everyone's circumstances are different."

Ayana smiled, and shook her head. "I can't understand you, Stephanie. I like you, but you are very strange to me."

Stephanie chuckled, "Believe me, you're not the only one who thinks like that. I'm considered odd even in my own culture, but that's OK. I had fewer problems because of it. I like you too. Admire you, even. You're way tougher than I ever was."

"Thank you. Our lives were very different," said Ayana.

"So they are. If I'd been raised here, I would probably think more like you, and the other way around," said Stephanie.

Ayana looked at me. "Vergil! What was your life like?"

"Not much to say. I was born to a very rich family, and I like to work in different types of art when I'm not working in the field."

"You two have nice accents."

"Irish," I said. "Thank you."

Ayana asked me, "Are you two lovers?"

I nodded. "Aye. Long time."

"But you never married?!"

Stephanie and I looked at each other. I then looked back at Ayana. "Trust me. Getting married would be very awkward. We have a way of existence where that just wouldn't work."

"Why?" asked Ayana.

I was at a loss. "Maybe I can tell you later, but I don't think you want to know that yet."

"Family feud?"

"No. It's too complicated," I said. Oh, she'd just love to hear about Thanatos being a part of the picture, and Stef not having a static gender. Stef and I would probably lose her respect yesterday; despite the fact our relationship was now 99.9 percent technically celibate. Or would that make her lose even more respect?

"Vergil," said Stephanie softly. Her eyes were closed.

"Yes?"

"Hesper, Shiva, and Gil are outside. Let's go over the battle grounds one more time."

I smiled. "Stef, you're great."

Ayana scowled. "What?"

"You feel good enough to ride a horse?" I asked her.

Ayana said, "I think so, but..."

"Fine," I said, not letting her ask her next question. "Then let's go for a ride."

When we walked outside of the tent, we would be in an absolute parallel reality of the edge of the battlefield Ayana had been on. A version of her own body would be there, as well.

*****

Ayana was stunned when she saw the equines. She'd never seen such a beautiful horse or set of ponies in her entire life. They were tacked in halters, light saddles, and each had a stretcher tied to his side. She was thrilled when she found out Gilgamesh was for her, though Ayana was initially unnerved by the glow of his red eyes. After she found out what a sweetie-pie he was, it didn't matter to her anymore.

"Just don't kick him," I said. "You can make clicking noises to get him to go faster, and the slightest touch of the rein to his neck will make him turn. He's used to very gentle treatment. Harsh treatment will get you thrown."

Stephanie said, "Or you can just not hold the reins. Gilgamesh will come with us on his own."

"I'll do that," said Ayana. "I'll just let him do what he wants. He's a big horse."

"His usual rider is tall," I said.

"Who is his usual rider?" asked Ayana.

"Keith Munster. He works with us some times, and you can meet him later," I said.

"Is he a witch too?" asked Ayana.

"A better witch than I," I said. "Very nice man. He helped make me what I am today. He was my teacher. Now, let's go to where we found you and see if we can find anyone else who might need our help."

"You want me to help?" asked Ayana.

"If you want to, you can. If you don't, you can watch."

"I'll help," she said.

Of course, we were not on Earth. There would be no people walking around to check on the wounded, or people rolling around in pain with their guts hanging out. Everyone would be dead on the field.

When we got to where we were going, Ayana was pretty non-reactive. She'd seen it all before. Not even the stench fazed her.

Damn the heads of state for doing this to people. I said, "You know these are all one people. This all used to be one country, and everyone's related."

"I know about Aksum," said Ayana. "They taught us that in school." Ayana was a girl who had gone to school. Her family had consisted of educated parents that wanted educated children. About half the country of Eritrea was illiterate, and most of those who couldn't read were of the female gender.

I'd spent a bit of time in the room dedicated to Aksum at Tech Duinn. It had been such a great, and beautiful civilisation. Just one more corner of the once magnificent continent of Africa that was buried in history! I almost felt like crying. "Do you also know that if European colonisation had never happened, you wouldn't be fighting today? That this gratuitous killing is for arbitrary borders involving political infighting over your resource rich land that's waiting to be exploited for when the time is right? It's not for the people of your lands. All that's happening with them is that they're getting killed."

"I just thought it was a fight to get our land back," said Ayana.

"Do you know how many people's sons, daughters, sisters, mothers, fathers and brothers are laying here? How many people were forced to run into lines of fire just to be slaughtered for corporate and despotic greed? Do you know how much was destroyed? How many homes and families?" I got off of Hesper's back. Stephanie made a show of getting off Shiva, to encourage Ayana to dismount.

Ayana did slide off of Gilgamesh. "I lost two brothers, but together they'd killed more than twenty Ethiopians."

"Some of who would be declared Eritreans after the land is taken back," I said. We were slowly advancing to the copy of 'the body' of the fallen Ayana.

Ayana scowled. "I never thought of that."

"How much value does life have to you?!" I asked.

"I don't know. We live, we die, and then we go to God."

"Are you afraid to die?" I asked.

"A little bit, but I accept that I might."

"What if all this is for nothing. What if Eritrea never becomes what you think it will? What if Isaias Afewerki turns out to be a cruel dictator who lives well on the blood and work of the people, and tortures and kills those who even dare question him?"

"I don't think that's going to happen," said Ayana.

"But what if it does? Then what will you think about having killed the people you killed?"

"I guess it would be a waste."

"But you don't think it's a waste, now? After all I told you on why this war is happening? How brothers and sisters are killing each other?" I asked.

Stephanie pointed to a body.

"Maybe it is, but what can I do?" asked Ayana.

A single tear rolled down my left cheek. With a smile, I said, "You can learn Truth." I pointed to Stephanie. "Go to her."

"Why are you crying?"

I put my hand on Ayana's shoulder, gave her a gentle push, and started walking over to Stef. As Ayana allowed herself to be led, I said, "Because this war is a tragedy that never should have happened. Because of all the unnecessary suffering that's taking place due to discreet powers pulling strings in gambles to enrich themselves, not that they have time for their plans to come to fruition."

"I never looked at it like that," said Ayana.

When we got to the body Stephanie was standing over, Stef got down and rolled 'it' over on 'its' back. It looked exactly like Ayana's body on Earth, with the three bullet holes, and lots of blood.

"Ayana, it's time for this act to come to an end."

She scowled. "This soldier looks like me!"

I still had my hand on her shoulder. "That used to be you." What I said was a technical lie, but I had to say what I had to say. "You don't live in that body anymore. To be honest, you are dead; and I am Death. Vergil Xanon is a name I use, but in legend I'm known as Donn Ui'Midir. A so-called Irish Death god. You were riding the horse used by a Greek Death god known as Thanatos, who does on occasion go as Keith Munster. When you meet him, you'll find he looks like me, only he's taller, all white, and with those same glowing red eyes of Gilgamesh."

Ayana looked at me. "I never thought death would be like this. You're also very pretty for a white man. And you're pretty too, Stephanie. You have nice eyes."

Stephanie stood up. "Thank you, but I like my nose better."

"There's enough of it," I said.

Ayana looked at me. "Was that nice?"

Stephanie said, "Yes, it was. I'm very proud of my nose. It has stage presence."

Ayana smiled. "It doesn't look bad, though I have to admit I think it's a nose for two."

"Yeah, now let's get out of here. I'll never get used to this smell, and I don't like being surrounded by forcibly vacated bodies," I said. I waved my left hand, and the scene faded to be replaced by that of the Elysian Fields.

Ayana looked confused. "Where are we? This is beautiful."

I took my hand off her, and stepped back. "It's called the Elysian Fields. It's the section of the Afterworld known to the Greeks, though anyone can come here. I bring most to Tech Duinn, which is a way station between the realms, but you're better off here. There are many Heavens, and many Hells, but no one stays in any of them eternally."

Ayana was Catholic. Religion had played a moderate part in her family. "Does this mean what you said about Isaias Afewerki is true?" she asked.

I nodded. "It is. And Eritrea is doomed until the end of what was your era, but from her ashes she will rise again greater than before; but that's not our time on Earth anymore. That's for the Physical survivors of Earth who make it past December 21, 2012 to rebuild more benign civilisations that actually take the life of all into consideration.

Ayana nodded.

I held out my arms to her. "Let me show you what you need, to stay here."

She stepped into my embrace, and wrapped her arms around me as well. I opened to her the parts of my mind that she needed to see, and taught her all she needed to know. After we separated, she asked, "How long will you two stay with me?"

"How ever long you want us," I said. "This isn't your final destination. You'll want to be in a place with more of your people later, but for a while we can explore many different worlds."

"I like this one. Can we see more on horseback?" Ayana liked to ride.

I smiled, "We sure can," I said. "After we pick up two more of our animal companions who are waiting for us.

I time tripped us, so to Percy and Reggie we were only gone a few minutes.

*****

Ayana almost couldn't believe it when she met the big cat and toothed bird with the clawed wings. The three did take a strong liking to each other after Ayana was assured she wouldn't become anyone's lunch.

Me, Stef, Percy, Reggie, the equines, and later, Thanatos with Warren Colfax's buckskin pony, would all accompany Ayana in the exploration of many realms. Thanatos took Gilgamesh back, and Ayana would ride the buckskin named Kemberlaine. Ayana was a special case to me, and I handled her situation a bit differently from most, but it was a nice break in the routine, and a hell of a lot of fun for everyone.

One thing though! Near the end of the Ayana project, Stef wished she...it...whatever could have taken on Mr. Afewerki all by...itself.

Isaias had better be thankful it wasn't meant to be.

Only Workin’ Half The Year Is Great...On Paper

Man, it sounded great before I started the job. Half the year off! Twelve hours a day, one week with four days, and one week with three. I've been doing it for six months. I found by the end of the first month it wasn't all I thought it was cracked up to be. It was Hell o' hard on me. I was also working with dangerous equipment at the paper plant, but oh well.

A part of me wanted to quit, but the money was just too damn good. I didn't get overtime for the hours worked after the first eight hours a day, but I did after forty a week; so I'd get eight hours every week I worked four days. I also got a mighty fine shift differential on top of the killer base pay. The job was only about twenty miles away, and that was statistically a pretty good commute.

I worked from midnight to noon. Our half hour lunch was paid for. There was more money for starting the graveyard shift. With the twenty percent differential, I made over sixty grand a year. Not bad for a single dude with no kids.

Last night was a bitch. My background in electronics saved me, though I was technically not authorised to work on my machine. My company let us break the rules when it meant getting the job done and saving money. Half our forklift drivers were uncertified, but they knew what they were doing; so what the Hell? If a rule made no sense, and its only purpose was to make the state more money, it was ignored on many occasions. Cal/OSHA wasn't a much-liked institution where I worked. We considered them a worthless nuisance who were nothing but a financial drain that made things extra difficult for both the corporations AND the workers.

In my past, I once worked for a company that really needed to be called in on environmental issues; and someone actually did call Cal/OSHA right before he quit. The slimy owner of the company bribed the Cal/OSHA persons who visited him, and got off scot-free. I lost what little respect I had for that vile institution from that day. Another company I worked for got fined a ridiculous amount for having one expired fire extinguisher. After that, I really loathed Cal/OSHA beyond anything, the Nazi bastards.

Thank God I had tonight, and the next three nights off. I was gonna probably sleep twenty hours after I got home. Then I'd only have to work three days. Unfortunately the cycle of misery would continue. By my third work night, I was always toast. By the end of the fourth, I was beginning to wish I were dead. But I did have one real nice check in my wallet, so that almost made up for it. It kept me going.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, I could barely keep my eyes open. When I was at the stoplight just before getting on the freeway, I saw what I thought was a real cute, lean, long haired, light red headed girl in a weird black dress, leotards, and boots; holding up a sign that said, 'Alvarado Niles'. It was on the way home, so I pulled over on the next block.

I walked over to 'her', and said, "My turn-off is Mowry, so you're on the way."

"Thanks. You can just drop me off where the freeway meets the exit."

Damn, 'she' had a nice accent; and though I couldn't tell from the rather high voice, I could tell from the Adam's apple; it wasn't a woman like I'd originally thought. Oh well. I wasn't going to back out now, not that it really mattered on way or another. "Sure. No problem." I pointed to my car. "We're headed for the grey Lexus. Where'd you get the threads?" The 'dress' was shiny silk-satin.

"My tunic? Custom made. My girlfriend drew a picture of me in it, I had it made because I thought it would be killer for my ice dancing; which it was, but it's so comfortable that I wear it more often."

Girlfriend? Not boyfriend?! Man, it takes all kinds! "Understood. I never saw anything like it," I said as we got to my car. I opened it with my remote, and we both got in. "I'm Willie Singer."

"Donn Ui'Midir."

"Where are you from?"

"Southwest Ireland."

He looked too clean and well groomed to be homeless. He also smelled rather nice; though the scent was something I though was more appropriate for a woman to wear. "Are you a professional skater?" I asked as I started the car.

"I'm not a professional anything, really; though I am an obscure published writer. That was more of a hobby that just happened to get out."

"I work at the paper mill. I had to do an undocumented repair where I had to rack my brain for half the night, trying to remember things I learned in college twenty years ago. I got it, though. Where's your ultimate destination?"

"Don't worry about it. I can get there. I accidently got stranded in Oakland, but I'm meeting some friends at the teahouse across from the Devil's Workshop. I just thought it would be easier to hitch a ride than take BART and bus."

I pressed myself into my seat in the nostalgic moment that just hit me. "That's where the Niles Station nightclub used to be. It was my favourite hangout when I was younger. You know, I haven't been there in forever. I'll take you all the way." Strangely, I felt as if I could. My exhaustion had evaporated. I suddenly felt like I was twenty as opposed to forty-five.

"You really don't have to."

"This is for my sake, OK?" I smiled at him, and winked. "You're just an afterthought."

Donn chuckled in a show of appreciation of my sometimes anti-social sense of humour. "Thanks. I appreciate it. And will you let me buy you a cup of tea or coffee or something to repay you?"

"I'm the last person who needs repayment, dude. I make more money than I know what to do with, and with my shift; I spend more time resting up than going out to raise Hell, though I'm getting a little old for that. The only good part is that I think I can either retire or go to part time when I'm fifty nine."

"You do a lot of overtime?"

"Only in December. I've got one of those rotating twelve-hour shifts. You know the type."

"I'm surprised those are legal," said Donn.

"So am I," I said. "If it wasn't for the money, I'd quit yesterday."

Donn looked at me with his left eyebrow raised. "I wonder if you'll think it was worth it after you get to where you're going?"

I shrugged. "Good question. Half the time I don't think it's worth it, now. It's just that I'm addicted to the concept of financial security."

"I'm not sure there is such a thing as financial security. Look what's happening in Zimbabwe, or what has happened in Weimar Germany, and all the fortunes lost during the Great Depression of your country."

Oooooh! Politically informed, smart dude. There was more to this one than met the eye. "I don't think that's going to happen again in the U.S.," I said.

Donn just shrugged. He gave me an enigmatic smile like he knew something that I didn't, and he wasn't going to tell me. Then my left rear tyre gave out.

"Oh, shit; if you'll excuse my French." I said. I had two exits to go. I pulled the car over to the side of the road.

Donn said, "Actually, that would be 'Oh, merde'; but you got a spare?"

Smart-ass! I would have laughed if circumstances had been different. "I most certainly do. The lug nut wrench and jack are in the trunk. This might be fun, considering they used a power lug nut wrench to put my wheels on."

Donn shook his head, and looked a little irritated. "It's no problem. Let me do it."

I opened the trunk, and looked at him. Donn was rather thin, and looked rather delicate, just standing there. He also didn't exactly look dressed to play tyre changer. "Are you sure?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't risk embarrassing myself by offering to do it, then not being able to." He got the tools out, grabbed the spare, and went at it. He handled everything with ease, like he'd done it a thousand times. He unscrewed the lug nuts with no show of effort, and threw on the spare with even less of a show of trying. I wondered how tight he got the wheel on, and after he was done; I asked, "Mind if I double check the nuts?"

He shook his head, and handed me the lug nut wrench. "Not at all."

I couldn't budge them one millimetre. "Good job. I've never seen anyone do that so fast. If I didn't know better, I'd say you worked doing pit stops at race tracks."

He laughed. "Ye gods, that's one of the last professions I'd want."

I put the blown out tyre, lug nut wrench, and jack back in the trunk. I guess I'd be getting a new tyre tomorrow. As if I didn't have enough to do, but oh well.

No, not really; but I'd planned on sleeping all day, so this little 'ratchet in my wheel' was a nuisance; not meaning to imply having to get a tyre was less of a nuisance for someone else in the general scheme of things, but it's not like I really cared about anyone's life or convenience other than my own. At that thought, a strong voice with an Irish accent came into my head that sounded exactly like Donn. It said, 'Suuuuuure. That's why you picked up the cute red headed chick who you found wasn't a chick to take her, him, whatever closer to her, his, whatever destination unconditionally just because 'she' was there, and it was on the way. You even pulled the car over and walked back to her...uh...him, because you don't give a shit about anyone but yourself, huh? And you knew you were never going to see her…him whatever again, too. You didn’t even plan on trying to make a date with ‘her.’'

I was looking at Donn. He wasn't saying anything. He was looking up at the sky, with another one of those enigmatic smiles.

It must have been my own thoughts judging myself to be a hypocrite, though I suppose not in a bad way. I guess Donn's accent was affecting me.

I rather liked this guy. "I've always been a little curious about Ireland. Before we split up, wanna trade e-mails or something?"

"Sure. No problem."

We got back in the car, and I started her up again. Donn and I got into a philosophical discussion on how so many cultures in the past worked so well without a monetary economy until they had one imposed on them; after which they went to Hell in a hand basket. He also got into how materialism and the quest for money was what was destroying the world and distracted people from what life was supposed to be all about, but everyone's trip was everyone's trip; so oh well.

This conversation was starting to remind of that song Roberta Flack did, called 'Killing Me Softly'. This guy was telling me my life's history, and all that was wrong with my life; and there was no way he could know. We'd never met in all our days.

I didn't say much. I also never remember Alvarado Niles being such a long street, but I didn't care. I was fascinated beyond fascination, and I didn't want this conversation with Donn's insights to stop. He told me all that was wrong with everything today, and how to fix it; and despite the fact he was telling me that I, in third person; was all misprioritised and lived a messed up life, he never condemned me or those like me. He commented it was just necessary for some individuals to spend a life or two like that so they could see for themselves what it was all about.

"Donn, if I took you to lunch; would you be late?"

He shook his head. "They'll wait. They have forever. We all do."

"Do we?"

"Yes. We're all eternal, and Stef, Keith, and our friend Tonya, who runs the place, can entertain each other quite well without me. They do it all the time. Stef and Keith might be doing some guerrilla theatre right now." He laughed. "I know of no one else other than Stephanie who can just come up out of the blue, and start telling people about the intrigues of scaphism and lingchi; which are two of the vilest modes of execution there are."

"Never heard of them."

"Lingchi is where a person has a little bit of them cut off at a time, sometimes over the course of a few days; and scaphism is where one is placed in a hollowed out log, top and bottom; with hands, head and feet protruding. They were force fed lots of milk and honey so they'd get the runs, and they'd fester in their own waste until they died; whilst insects would bite the exposed parts in the process."

Oh, that was gross. I pulled into a strip mall. "That is absolutely disgusting, and thank you for not telling me that at the lunch table while I had a mouthful of food. I get the feeling if you had, I would have messed up your tunic, regardless of whether you were sitting across from me, next to me, or whatever."

"You're welcome. Stephanie wouldn't have been so kind. She's turned Keith into a bit of a prankster too, though; in his old age."

I parked the car. "Who are Keith and Stephanie?"

"They're my best friends, and housemates. I'm vegetarian, by the way. Not vegan, though. I love eggs and dairy."

I pointed to a sandwich shop. "They have veggie sandwiches. I've had their cream cheese, sprout, and avocado before, but at another branch. Good stuff. They also have some damn good tofu burgers, hummus and egg salad sandwiches. I'm not veg, but I've tried almost everything except ham. I can't stand the stuff. I'm buying."

"Thanks."

Donn ordered the hummus sandwich with a Seven-Up, and I had a roast beef sandwich with a Coke. I tipped the server ten dollars for the meal. Donn's lecture had really rubbed off on me. As the sandwiches were being made, I told Donn, "I have a confession to make."

"Yes?"

"What you told me! You almost repeated my life's history, and told my why I am what I am. It's like you were with me from the day of my birth, but I never saw you before."

"We may have met in another life. Who knows, not that this has anything to do with our discussion."

I cocked my head. "Interesting how you have me nailed. Are you a telepath or something?"

"Do you think they exist?"

I shrugged. "They might. I don't know. I don't think I ever met one unless you are one, and I admit you're giving some damn good advice."

"Thanks." He had a sip of his Seven-Up.

The server brought over some plastic trays with our sandwiches, crisps, and pickles. We both thanked the server, and I bit into my sandwich. It was delicious. Donn started by finishing off his pickle, first.

"You never answered my question," I said.

"Which is?"

"Well, I suppose since you had to ask that question, you're not; but I had asked whether you were a telepath or not."

He had a bite of his sandwich, and a sip of his drink. "If I were, do you think it would be conducive to either one of us for you to know that?"

"Interesting question. You could have feinted with me by your asking 'Which is?' Will you tell me before we part?"

He bit into a crisp. "Maybe."

"Now I'm beginning to think you are, not that it bothers me. You don't seem the destructive type."

"I'm generally not. There's no point to it. I'd rather see all that is, runs smoothly."

"My perception of time has been a bit off since I met you. Can you explain?"

"Time is subjective."

"Yeah. My shifts take forever at work, but I have to be there for twelve hour stretches. Getting three or four days off a week doesn't seem to make up for it anymore; not that it ever really did! Maybe I will quit...if I can find something that almost pays comparably."

Donn didn't say anything. He just looked at me.

"Or maybe not," I said. "Yeah, I'm gonna quit. After all, I've got quite a savings account, and no one to spend it on except for myself. Always too busy to even think about starting a relationship."

"That might change if you quit being so proud of your salary, and if you quit insisting she make at least as much as you."

"So you're definitely a telepath. You just admitted it with your statement."

"OK. Guilty as charged."

I finished half my sandwich before I said anything else. "Did we meet by accident?"

"No. Let me explain everything after we get to our destination."

"OK."

We finished our lunch in silence.

*****

I parked in the empty lot that was in front of what used to be Niles Station. The front that used to be Niles Station was still empty. "Don't worry about Keith's eyes or teeth, when you meet him. He's been enhanced due to the strange tastes of a former girlfriend," said Donn. "He also looks like me, other than being taller, and paler. That's not entirely natural either."

Donn was mighty pale. Almost stark white, but not quite. "What's with the teeth and eyes?" I asked.

"He's got fangs, and neon eyes. They glow. He's cool, though. You might also not be able to take your eyes off of Stef's nose. It's also gotten a little help to be where it's at, and Stephanie is quite proud of it."

"It's big enough for you to warn me about?"

"Aye, I think it's a good idea."

I just had to laugh. "I almost can't believe this."

"It gets better," said Donn, and we got out of the car.

Donn actually took my hand as we crossed the street. I thought that was as strange as Hell, but I didn't fight him. We walked into the cozy little shop, and there were only two individuals sitting at a table, along with a server. There was a red head with a very big nose who was dressed in black breeches, boots, a high collar white shirt with cravat, black vest, black coat of sorts, black cloak, and black driving gloves. I couldn't tell what gender it was by looking at ‘it’, but 'it' had a very big nose, so I guessed that was Stephanie.

Keith. Long white hair, and when I saw his face; I about went into shock. He looked like he'd been dipped in white paint. His face was the spitting image of Donn's. Yes, his eyes did glow red, but paradoxically, he looked so gentle. Damn beautiful, too, just like Donn. Keith got up, pulled the chair out, and said, "Have a seat," to me, and "More tea please," to the server.

Donn helped my stunned self into the chair. He then sat across from me. The server came with another pot of tea, and two more cups. She was a beautiful, statuesque black lady. Donn said, "Thanks Tonya."

Tonya smiled. "No problem. Are we done now?"

"Almost," said Keith. Keith and me moved our chairs more apart from each other. "Pull up a chair, luv."

Tonya did, and she sat between Donn and Keith. She'd brought her own cup.

Everyone had an Irish accent, including Tonya. I was getting a little confused, and Keith poured my tea. "Welcome on board, Willie," he said, and I scowled. "Another telepath?"

"We all are. So are you, now. This is all an illusion. You're in an Etheric copy of a part of Fremont. After all, you did electrocute yourself silly on the conveyor you tried to fix last night," said Donn.

My head went up and down once. "Oh."

A small mirror suddenly appeared in Donn's hands, and he gave it to me. "Look at yourself."

I took the mirror. "How did you do that?"

"Instant manifestation is the way of this locale. I'll teach you how to do it very soon," said Donn. "You could learn on your own, but I can teach you everything you need to know instantly.

I looked in the mirror. My facial lines were gone; I had twice as much hair as I had since the last time I looked in the mirror. That was one thing I didn't mind at all. "So I'm dead?" I asked.

"No such thing," said Donn. "Let's say you evolved rather suddenly to a higher realm, a little closer to Home."

I had a sip of the very delicious tea that I could not identify. It was fruity. "I see. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Donn raised his teacup to me. "You had an outlook that needed a'changin', and you did have fun, didn't you?"

"Except for the tyre, yes."

"I arranged for that," said Donn. "I wanted for you to overcome your first impression of me. That there was more to me than being just a fluffy transvestite scholar."

I smiled. "A fluffy transvestite scholar who ice dances!"

"Yes," said Donn. "And the tea is China black with peach and mango."

"Thank you," I said. "This death thing isn't bad."

"Beats the Hell out of life," said Stephanie.

Tonya said, "Let's finish this pot of tea, and get this place back to how it's supposed to be. I like Tech Duinn way better than this mundane view."

"Understood," said Stephanie.

Donn looked at Tonya. "I see you've been hangin' with Stephanie a bit."

"A bit," said Tonya. "I've come to a complete agreement with her opinion of comparing life to death is like comparing kidney pie to mango mousse."

I wrinkled my nose at the concept of kidney pie. "I'm in for some real interesting times ahead, aren't I?"

"All the way," said Keith. "By the way, the name most call me is Thanatos, we're all Gate Keepers; meaning we help people transition from life to afterlife, though you can keep calling me Keith."

"I've heard of Thanatos when I took a psych class. It was about a death instinct thing. Yeah," I said. I looked at Donn, and smiled. "Thanks for this little adventure. What you gave me was a nice introduction to this place.

Donn said, "It'll only get better."

It did.

Black Tigress

My name is Aakavi. I was 16, and a soldier for the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam. I was in with the Black Tigers. My specialty was guerrilla warfare, and I was in top form. I'd been on active duty for six month, and had killed 28 soldiers of the Sri Lankan army, and three civilians. Not a bad way for a girl to get some respect, I thought. My favourite kill was the single machete number I did. It was the most satisfying, being so direct and hands-on.

I was good, and I had an attribute than helped me to be a good 'night stalker'. My skin was as black as coal. Not only did that make it easier for me to hide in the shadows; it unnerved a lot of people. There were times when I gave a battle cry as I opened fire, and from the looks of the opposition I slaughtered, they must have thought I was Kali come to life. I was tough, fast, and quiet. I was also pretty strong, and my stamina was hard to match.

Kali was my Goddess. Kali, and Shiva were the only ones I cared for. I dedicated all my kills to Kali. Being what I was, it was helpful to see Death as a friend. Perhaps your only friend! That made me a better soldier. I smiled, as I kissed the cyanide vial around my neck.

Sri Lanka. It was my land. My ancestors were here first, and then the invaders can't even give us an autonomous area to call our own nation. I hated them so much; it almost hurt! I loathed all of them. Everyone on this island not of my blood, were foes. I freely admitted to having killed civilians to anyone, and if you asked me about it; I'd ask back, "What of it? An outlander was an outlander, be they in uniform, or no."

Tonight, I would kill again. Vaisa had found a Sri Lankan army outpost, and we were on it. I manned a sniper rifle, and my eight backups were armed with machine guns. I aimed, and got one guard right between the eyes. I downed two more, and then felt a bullet go under my right collarbone.

I was disabled, and in no condition to fight anymore. I couldn't risk capture. With my left hand, I grabbed my vial of cyanide. I was also in shock. I didn't feel any pain.

Just then, someone grabbed my left wrist from behind. The vial was removed from my hand, and I had the thong around my neck snapped off by someone who must have been pretty powerful, since I didn't even feel any pressure from the thong.

If I weren't so badly wounded, I would have fought like Hell. But that's not how it was, and I was pretty messed up mentally, as well as physically. I could barely move my right arm, and I went limp.

I found myself picked up, and placed face down on the back of a big white horse. I flailed and kicked a little, but to no avail. There was no reason for it, but I passed out for some strange reason.

*****

When I came to, I was laying under a tree. I didn't feel half bad, and I could move my right arm again. When I looked at where my wound was, it was like I'd never been shot.

I didn't know where I was. I felt for my cyanide vial. It wasn't there. I checked out all my knives, and found only empty sheathes. I'd been completely disarmed, but I seemed to be undamaged. Everything I wore was in tact, except for the holes in my shirt where I'd been shot; though considering my current state I almost wondered if I'd hallucinated or dreamed the whole thing up. You don't just heal in a few hours from a gunshot wound, provided I'd only been out for a few hours.

I looked around, and spotted two glowing red lights. I scowled, and tried to make out what they were. They suddenly gained altitude. They ended up almost a metre higher than where they'd been.

I sprang to my feet, and got ready to do some damage. I'd been trained in the structural weaknesses of the body, and how to hit them. I wasn't someone to be messed with, even unarmed.

When the lights came closer, my desire to plaster somebody faded. Those lights were a pair of eyes. That was enough to still me. They belonged to something that looked like a man, in every other respect. He was pretty tall, had long light hair, was clean-shaven, and not from around these parts. He looked European, from what I could tell in the dark. He was also quite attractive, and dressed very strangely. He wore only a loincloth, boots, and a piece of decorative metal circled his neck that was open at his throat. In English, he said, "Aakavi. I'm not a part of your opposition, and I hope you don't mind my dragging you out of a somewhat perilous situation." His lilting accent was captivating.

I spoke English in addition to Tamil, Sinhala, and Hindi. "Had I really been shot?"

"The bullet passed through the shoulder. At least it missed your lungs."

"But it's OK now. Did you fix me?"

He smiled. Man, he had fangs. Both upper and lower! "In reality, you 'fixed' yourself; but I guided the procedure."

"Thank you. You're not a man, are you?"

"I would hope not. I most certainly don't like being treated like one, if you get my meaning."

I had to chuckle. "Being a Black Tiger, I don't tolerate being treated like a woman. I think I understand."

He closed his eyes. "Mmmmmmmm. Speaking of tigers..." The man suddenly disappeared, and a tiger stood where he had been.

It was a white tiger with no stripes, and red glowing eyes.

I couldn't help myself. The cat was non-threatening, and so beautiful. I walked over to him, sat down, and stroked the sides of his face. His fur there, was soft. "I wish I could do that."

'You will be able to...in a little while.' I heard the man's voice, but the tiger's mouth hadn't moved.

"Did you just tell me that in a little while I can become a real tiger?"

'Not verbally, but I did so inform you. Mind to mind, you know?"

I nodded. "Are you an Avatar?"

'I've been called worse. I suppose so. As for your next question, my name is Thanatos. Greek, but my accent is Irish for reasons you'll find out soon enough.'

"I don't need to talk, do I?"

'No. Your thoughts are mine.'

"Do you still have my weapons and my cyanide?"

'Yes. I suppose I can give them back to you now.'

"Why did you take them away?"

The cat backed away from me, and re-appeared as something closer to human. As he stood, he held my three knives, and cyanide vial on the thong. He handed them to me; I re-sheathed my knives, and tied the vial around my neck. "So you wouldn't...um...kill yourself," he said.

"OK. Of course, I have no idea where I am. Can you take me back to someplace I recognise?"

"I took you to where you'd be safe. I suppose I can now take you right back to where I found you. The commotion is over."

I thought for a moment. "You know, I'll never be able to face my sergeant after this. It's like I ran away."

"You didn't run away. You were removed." The white horse suddenly came into view. "We'll ride back together, though there are a few things I'd like to talk about."

The horse came to us, and Thanatos helped me up. "Like?" I asked.

Thanatos got on easily behind me. "Your choice of occupations. You're pretty good, huh? Tough, independent, no attachments, and strongly identifying with Kali?"

"I'm an excellent sharp shooter. I've killed in hand-to-hand combat, and I chopped one soldier up with a machete. Considering how much I hate the non-Tamil invaders, I have no problem killing them."

"You've lost all ability to empathise. Do you think that's good?"

"It's convenient."

"You don't even think that much of your own family."

"That's what makes me such a good Tiger. Focused. As far as I'm concerned, my family is a bunch of pacifist bastards who don't know their ass from a hole in the ground. They expected me to get married and have a family. I don't think so. If someone wants a servile house slave, they can have my two sisters."

"That's your choice. One of my two best friends is of the same thought line as you." He chuckled. "So is my one time mentor. She used to plaster me in combat games, and I still can't beat her."

I smiled. "She must be quite a woman, or should I say goddess?"

"Some call her that, though not I. If you knew us, what we've been through and what we've done; you wouldn't deify any of us. We're of another realm, but we're no better than those of higher density. We have many of the same issues and problems. We've had to deal with insecurities, personal differences, neurosis, pointless hatred, misunderstandings, not knowing ourselves, and all that. Some of us I don't think will ever get over it until the Nirvanic Plane is reached."

"So, what exactly are you?"

"How about I tell you when we get back to the battle-site?"

"Why can't you tell me now?" I asked.

"It'll be better if I wait. Trust me. What if I had left you there, incapacitated as you were?"

"I would have killed myself. You didn't let me, though. I'm not sure you did me a favour by taking me away. I feel dishonourable."

"Put that feeling on hold. I think you'll change your mind."

"If I think I'm worse off for your so called rescue, I will kill myself. You do understand that?!"

"That's fine," he said. "How can you hate a people who share your gods?"

"They won't give us our own country.”

"That's the government, not the people. You've dispatched a few civilians."

"I can’t stand any of them."

"Did you arrive at this conclusion independently, or were you programmed?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I was told about the independence movement, what it entailed, I looked at how mundane and boring the family life is, and I decided I'd rather be a warrior than a floor sweeper, cook, baby minder and dishwasher."

"What about your intense dislike of so many people who never did anything to you, and who would even help you in varying circumstances if you would let them? Is that right? To hate someone just because of whom they were born to?"

I was silent for a while. "I never looked at it like that."

"We're almost where we want to go. Another ten minutes, or so! Would you like to dismount, and think about this for a while?"

"If you know my thoughts, how come you present that as a question?"

"To make you more comfortable."

The horse stopped, and Thanatos got off. I slid off the horse, and followed him to a clearing. He sat on a rock, and I sat across from him. He materialised a cup of tea, and handed it to me. "Thank you," I said.

"Darjeeling." He materialised himself a cup.

I had a sip. It was hot and tasty. "This is good."

"What did you expect?"

"True. Anyway, according to all philosophies, I know my way of thinking is wrong, but that's the way it is."

"And if you read of an alien culture doing what you are doing, what would you think? Viewing it all from a detached perspective, considering it has no direct effect on you?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"You ought to read 'Heart Of Darkness'. Then you'd know. I’ve read it a few times, and I cried each time. Or we can do this the fast way after we finish our tea."

"And what does that mean?" I asked.

"Your mind is mine. I can also share my mind with you. The things I've seen, the things I know."

"Interesting. I'm going to hate to see you go, later."

He chuckled, showing off his fangs. "You will not lose my company until you no longer require or want it."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. Let's finish up our tea."

*****

Thanatos had dematerialised our empty teacups, and sat next to me. He raised his right hand to me, with an open palm. "Touch your hand to mine, and close your eyes. Let the visions flow."

I put my left palm against his, and closed my eyes.

What I saw; was like a series of movie clips. Battle scenes of then and now. Swords, arrows, maces, guns, bombs, spears, and everything else! I was even forced to review my own killings. I saw the blood, heard the screams, was aware of the vile stench, and even felt the pain of the victims...both physical and mental. I had the knowledge they will never see their loved ones again in life, and was forced to see it from their perspective!

It hit me pretty hard. I'd closed myself off from that completely. I ended up in tears.

Thanatos embraced me, and then I was subjected to something completely different. It was so good; it was almost indescribable! I felt so loved in a way I couldn't have imagined. There was no ulterior motive behind it. It was pure and unconditional. It just was, for the sake of being. It was so good, and so intense; I couldn't handle it! I cried even harder, and Thanatos gently held me.

It was dawn, when I finally got it all out of my system. Having to deal with the guilt of what I had done, included. Thanatos absolved me of that, saying everything I had done was just something I had to do to get to where I'm going. I had to kill to learn. Everything was as it was supposed to be.

I looked into his glowing eyes. "You've redirected my way of thinking completely, and I think I love you."

He stood up, and extended his hand to me. "I love you too. Now, let's go. We'll walk. Gilgamesh got bored and took off. We're almost done here."

I took his hand, and he pulled me up. "Almost, huh?" I asked.

"Aye. Almost."

I was in familiar territory, now. Everything was quiet, but just up ahead was where I had been...or as I would soon find out; where I still was.

There were bodies all over the place. My squad had been totally wiped out, and when I saw my own bullet-ridden body, I was stunned. "I'm dead?!"

"And I am Death. Not like Shiva. I'm more akin to Yama, though akin is all I can say. We aren't the same, either. We fulfill the same function, and it was just better for me to deal with you than Yama."

I looked up at him. "I'm glad you did."

"You're no longer dying to meet Kali, I see."

I had to laugh. "Being that I'm already dead, huh? No, I don't want to meet her anymore. Now what?"

"Now, I think it's time to introduce you to the limitless future that does not exist, being there is no time."

For all the sense that made! "What?"

He waved his hand like he was being pestered by an insect, and my surroundings melted.

We ended up in a beautiful garden with different coloured torches, and statuary, and fountains, and gazebos. It was huge, and there was a castle up ahead that I could barely see the ends of.

Thanatos said, "Here, you'll explore all your options; and decide what you're going to do next."

"This isn't at all what I expected."

"It so rarely is."

We walked back to the castle hand in hand, exploring the garden on the way.

Death was quite an interesting adventure that had surpassed all my expectations.

End of Volume Thirteen

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THE XANON CHRONICLES-XIII

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

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Salvage

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