Gramps

By A. Fraser and DJ Lowery

          Karra,
               It is with deepest sympathy that I must inform you of your
               grandfather's recent death. I knew Malakai well and shall
               miss his presence in this now, too empty house. His last
               wishes were for me to contact you and tell you it was time
               to come home. 

               Please call me as soon as possible to make the arrangements 
               for your return. I look forward to seeing you again, yet wish 
               it could be under happier circumstances.
                         Garrick

                         ********

     A slight frown crossed the young woman's face as she read the letter yet again. She was
saddened by her grandfather's death, but angry that she hadn't been notified sooner. There were
too many questions left unanswered.
     Malakai sent her away ten years ago with her care-giver, Layna. He simply told them not to
return until it was "time"; never bothering to explain what he meant. Even at the age of twelve,
she
understood that she and Layna were in danger from an enemy she didn't know.
     On her eighteenth birthday, Karra discovered just how dangerous these unknown enemies
could
be. Upon returning to their hotel after a shopping expedition, she found Layna's mutilated body.
The
woman that had become Karra's best friend was barely recognizable. She called Garrick in a
panic,
only to have him tell her to leave everything and run.
     That was nearly four years ago. Karra had kept moving, only infrequently telling even her
grandfather where she was. During this time, she literally begged him to explain things to her, but
he continually refused. All he would say was that until the time was right she would be in grave
peril
if she knew too much. He promised the time would come when everything would be revealed.
     As Karra stared at the letter that had taken several weeks to catch up with her, her anger
gradually abated. He couldn't have known death was imminent or he would have contacted her
sooner. Surely now that he'd asked for her to return, the answers would be waiting for her.
Perhaps
Garrick knew more than he'd ever let on. 
     Picking up the phone, she dialed Garrick's number and began to calculate how long it would
take
her to get home.

     Home. It was a large 2-story house on a hill, overlooking nearly two hundred acres of prime
woodland. She'd been told that her great-great-great grandfather had won the land in a duel of
sorts
and had built the house himself from the trees he'd cut for the clearing. The family believed the
woodlands to be inhabited by spirits and refused to waste any of the resources. This belief had
been passed from generation to generation. To this day, Karra believed in the spirits and in her
ancestor's belief that if she took from the land only what she used, the land would repay her
kindness tenfold.
     Other than his rare stories about the woodland spirits and the family history, Karra
remembered
little about her grandfather. His steely black eyes and uncanny silence were the main things that
came to mind. As a child, she'd never known when she might turn and find him watching her as if
he could read her mind. 

     She knew even less about her parents. Her mother had died while giving birth to her; and her
father... stars only knew where he was. Even his own father, Malakai, claimed to know nothing of
his whereabouts. Perhaps he would learn of Malakai's death and return home as well.
     Two days later, Karra found herself on familiar ground. Not in ten long years had she thought
of the way her family home had made her feel while growing up. Throughout the drive she'd been
on edge, yet from the moment she entered the woodlands, she began to relax. She was home and
felt a sense of security she'd long since forgotten.
     The narrow lane had been paved with asphalt since she'd left, but nothing else seemed
changed. The trees swung low over the roof of her car, casting deep shadows under the setting
sun. The lush foliage was dark and seemingly impenetrable, but she knew without doubt that the
leaves would part for her should she decide to get out and walk into the woods.
     As she continued up the drive, Karra's breath caught at her first glimpse of the house. It was lit
from top to bottom, the porch lights blazing a hardy welcome. The gates were standing open,
Garrick anticipating her arrival. The lilacs and honeysuckle that surrounded the house were in full
bloom and Karra breathed deeply of their fresh, sweet scent.
     She brought the car to a halt at the front steps, noticing the iron gates slide closed behind her.
As Karra stepped from the car, Garrick opened the wide double doors and came outside. The
woman he saw standing before him was definitely not the child he remembered. Karra looked so
much like her late mother that for a moment, even Garrick was spooked.

     Her pale blonde hair and porcelain complexion were offset only by the deep, emerald green of
her eyes. Standing no more than 5'3", her petite frame was accentuated by snug fitting jeans and
a simple t-shirt. At first glance she might be taken for a teenager, but when anyone looked into
her
eyes, they realized their mistake. Her eyes were cold and hard with distrust, their intensity
frightening.
     "Karra, welcome home!" Garrick called as he reached out to hug her. "How are you? Not
worn
out from your drive, I hope? I've fixed you a snack. Thought you might need something light once
you arrived."
     "That's fine, Garrick. Thank-you. It's good to be home again."
     Returning his hug, Karra noticed that he'd hardly changed in the ten years she'd been gone.
Nearly a foot taller than herself and a good hundred pounds heavier, Garrick was solid muscle. He
had to be at least 40, but didn't look a day over thirty. His shoulder-length black hair fell in waves
around his square face, eyes  dark as midnight still alert as ever. As an adult, she fully understood
why she'd had a pre-teen crush on him.
          Entering the house, she couldn't suppress a gasp of surprise. Nothing had been changed
since she'd left!
     "Malakai wanted you to feel at home when you returned," Garrick told her, "so he left
everything
as it was."
     "Even my old room?"
     "Everything," Garrick assured her as she rushed past him and up the wide, winding staircase.
     She threw open the door and was swept back to her childhood. The bookshelves lined with
children's stories; the wooden doll house Garrick had built for her when she was four; the fashion
Barbies lined up on her dresser; the stuffed animals piled high in "their" chair. Last, but most
important was the china doll that lay alone, propped on her pillow. Her name was Morganna. She
was the only tangible thing that Karra had left that had belonged to her mother.
     Walking softly, almost afraid to break the magic of the moment, Karra went to the bed and
gently
lifted Morganna from her place. She brushed the fine yellow hair back with her fingers, marveling
over its softness. She tucked her securely in the crook of her arm as she continued to explore a
past she'd nearly forgotten.

     Garrick had finished unloading Karra's car and was making himself comfortable as she came
back downstairs. A slight frown creased his brow as he watched her lightly touch each piece of
furniture she passed. As she approached the fireplace, he replaced the concern on his face with
a welcoming smile. Without further preamble, she seated herself next to him and began asking 
questions.
     "Why did Gramps send Layna and I away, Garrick? And keep us away for so long? Surely he
could have protected her? And who the hell killed her?"
     Stopping only when Garrick raised his hand for silence, Karra sat back, impatiently waiting for
him to gather his thoughts.
     "How well do you remember Malakai?" he asked softly.
     "Not very. I remember spending more time with you and Layna than with Gramps."
     He nodded as if he'd known the answer without asking, then continued, "There's not much I
can
tell you yet, Karra. There are things about the past you must remember before my words will hold
any meaning for you."
     Seeing she was about to interrupt, he raised his hand again and said, "Eat first. You'll need
your
strength. Afterward, I'll take you to Malakai's special place. It is there that many of your questions
will be answered. What you do with those answers will be your decision to make. I'll be here to
help
you however I can, just as I helped Malakai."
     Grudgingly, Karra ate the food he placed in front of her, knowing it was useless to argue with
him
when his mind was set on something. If what he said was true, she would discover the answers
soon enough.

     "Are you certain you want to begin this tonight?" Garrick asked as they walked out the back
door.
"You may learn things you aren't ready for."
     "What are you talking about, Garrick? I told you, I need to know what's going on. You and
Gramps have been hiding things from me all my life. Either I find out now, or I leave for good."
     "You're just like your father, you know. He always wanted to know the answers and was
stubborn as could be until he found them. I sincerely hope that he and Malakai knew what they
were doing when..."
     "What?" she asked suspiciously when he hesitated.
     "Never mind. We're almost there."
     Ahead of them in the moonlight loomed a large, mausoleum type building. Garrick inserted the
key into a rusted lock and shouldered the door open. The hinges creaked in protest under the
weight of the door as they entered the building. Suddenly a light flared as Garrick struck a
wooden
match and lit the candles hanging by the door. Karra cautiously passed him, eerie feelings of
familiarity nagging at her senses.
     "You'll find your answers here, Karra."
     With those few words, Garrick swung the door closed as he left her alone. It took her a
moment
to realize that he had locked her in.
     "Garrick!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the stillness of the building. "Garrick! Come back
here!"
     After several minutes had passed, Karra realized that he had definitely left her and there was
no escape for now. When he came back, there would be hell to pay. In the meantime, she glanced
at the narrow hallway where she stood and decided that simply standing there would serve no
purpose.

     She carefully lifted one of the candles from its holder on the wall and walked farther into the
building. Her footsteps rang hollow against the stone as she entered a huge central chamber. The
walls and floor were of solid stone, cold and rough to the touch, with no apparent decoration. In
the
center of the floor someone had drawn a perfect circle of white. In the middle of that sat a
wooden
trunk that seemed to beckon her.
     Deliberately, she made her way around the circle, not touching the paint that marred the pure
gray of the floor. For some reason she was reluctant to enter the circle, but could find no logical
reason not to. Perhaps the answers she sought were within the trunk. Grasping the candle firmly,
she stepped over the line and entered into a realm of memories she'd not known existed.

                         ********

>>>  A woman. Fair in appearance, petite, yet obviously in labor was lying in the middle of the
circle
next to the open trunk. Alone. A crystal amulet hung in midair above her heaving stomach. She
clawed at the stone floor beneath her, but uttered not a sound in her pain. A shadow fell across
her
face. She looked up and reached out to her husband. Smiling.
     "It will soon be done," she gasped. "Your child is almost here, then I'll be gone. Take care they
do not harm her."
     The man knelt down and cradled her head in his lap as the child was born. His tears glittered
on
her cheeks as he closed her eyes and placed a final kiss on her full lips. Laying her gently on the
floor, he reached out for the infant and turned toward the doorway.
     "It is done," he said, emotion choking his voice. "Now you must guard over her until she has
become of age. Teach her, as you taught me. When she learns the truth of her heritage, it will be
time for her to seek me out. Until then, Father, let nothing happen to her."
     Malakai took the infant into his arms and bid his son farewell. <<<

                              **

>>>  The toddler in the circle was aware of her grandfather's disappointment that his only
grandchild
was a girl. He also appeared discouraged that she had inherited her mother's fairness, claiming
none of her father's features or coloring. She didn't fully understand this knowledge, but knew it
to
be true. 
     Watching him, listening to his words, her curiosity absorbed everything. <<<

                              **

>>>  The child, perhaps three now, sat in the circle watching the man in front of her as if she
knew
exactly what he was doing. There were lights dancing on his fingertips, bouncing from hand to
hand,
delighting her. She watched, and she understood.
     "A simple trick, child," he said softly, holding his hands out to her.
     She raised her hands to his and the lights danced for her. They left the man's fingers and moved
about her head in a perfect circle, making her laugh. Malakai stood, silently surprised, watching
her. 
     A small smile played across his otherwise stern face. <<<

                              **

>>>  The memories continued to flow through the circle as the child began to grow up. By the
time
she was ten, Malakai had begun to teach her the necessities of survival. He taught her how to
protect herself, and how to kill.
     Calling upon the elements as she'd been taught, the girl placed her hands on the stone floor a
mere breath away from where she knelt. She focused her energies on the piece of cinder block just
outside the safety of the circle. Within seconds, a flash of red light blazed through the stone floor
striking the block instantly shattering it into smoldering bits of sand.
     She stood and turned, expecting praise from her teacher, but was greeted instead by a wall of
white light racing for her. Instinctively, she raised her arms crossing them at the wrist in front of
her
face. She felt the heat of the light strike her and absorbed it into her closed fists. Instantly opening
her hands, she forced it back across the circle. Her attacker stumbled and fell to his knees.
     The child ran to her grandfather as he stared at her in amazement. He was no longer
disappointed. <<<

                              **

>>>  "Child," Malakai was saying. "I must send you away for awhile for your own safety. You
will not
remember the things I have taught you until you return to this circle. When that time comes, either
myself or Garrick will help you find your father. It is through him that you will become what you
are
meant to be. If for some reason we cannot help you, you must seek out Baron Gideon Redoak.
He
has known me and will help you find your father."
     "I don't understand, Gramps. Why do I have to go? You've always taken care of me. I can help
you now."
     "You are not old enough to fight what is coming, Child. I may not be  able to protect myself
from
it. Layna will guide you until it is time to come home. When you regain use of your powers, use
them
wisely. The woodland spirits will be displeased if you abuse their gifts."
     "Remember, when you need them, the elements are there... The earth and water are gifts from
your mother; fire and air are gifts from your father, myself, and our ancestry. The masculine traits
will serve you strongest, yet never forget your feminine side. Your mother was strong in her own
right and her powers will serve you as well."
     "The light of the stars will guide you; the unity of the moon will strengthen you; the darkness
of
night will hide you. Never forget this, Child, and you will surpass the strength of even your
greatest
enemy." <<<

                         ********

     Karra woke slowly. Disoriented. She was lying on the cold stone floor next to the trunk. The
candle had long since burnt out, but she could see as if the room was dimly lit by an unseen
source.
Cautiously she rose to her knees and lifted the heavy lid of the trunk. Within it she found her
grandfather's talisman, his journals spanning the last three centuries, his ceremonial robes and the
extensive family history. Within that history was stored the secrets to the Protectors' power and
what was known of the Destroyers'.
     Gently, she stroked the brightly colored robes and thought of the rituals Malakai had taught
her
so long ago. She lifted the amulet over her head and giving thanks to the elements and the
woodland spirits, she let it rest between her breasts. Sighing softly, she carefully replaced the
other
items and closed the lid. Gramps had taught her all that was within the trunk, she had no current
need for anything else.
     The trunk would be safe within the circle as it had been throughout the family's history. For
generations, the family had protected the history of its powers with a sealed circle no matter
where
they were. Once the spell was cast, it could be broken only by another member of the immediate
bloodline. She and her father were the only ones that remained. Neither of them would risk losing
the power that lay within the family.
     The heavy door opened with merely a thought as she approached it. The moment Karra
stepped
outside into the light of dawn, she knew something was wrong. Deadly wrong. Breaking into a
run,
she burst into the house calling Garrick's name. Unable to find him, she let her instincts guide her
out the front door and into the trees. She raced through the thick foliage, knowing she was too
late,
but also knowing she had to find him.

     Garrick lay just outside the safety of the woodlands. As she drug his body into the trees, she
heard laughter receding on the air. Had he at least been breathing, she could have tried to
vanquish
the Destroyer's magic and healed him, but he wasn't. Unable to ascertain whether or not he still
lived, she left his body lying within the sanctity of the woodlands and asked the spirits to care for
it
and guard over it should the magic dissipate.
     Knowing instinctively that her time was limited, Karra raced back to the house, knowing she
couldn't panic. Somehow she had to find this Baron Redoak before it was too late. There was no
one else she could turn to. But how to find him...

                               ****

     It was hard to miss the sign at the entrance to the road.  It was designed not to be missed, after
all, for there were legal niceties  involved.  It loomed whitely against a backdrop of black pines,
informing the wary and unwary that they were about to set tire (for one assumed that anyone
approached this treacherous piece of road by car, it was much too far to walk) that the Cliff Road
was private property, patrolled and that trespassers would be prosecuted. 
     So much for the legalese.  Karra's magical hackles rose as she sat, idling the engine, letting the
_feel_ of that sign wash over her.  There were laws involved, all right, but they were _old_ laws.
Someone of the wrong sort daring to trespass on this road would not face a fine, but an unleashed
spell of considerable magnitude. A very slight undertone of sorcery made her uneasy--the magic
wasn't necessarily benevolent.  Yet it was harmless to the mundane.  A lost tourist or sightseer
would be merely ticketed by the Sheriff, not flamed into ashes. A lost sorcerer might have another
problem entirely. Whoever--or whatever--it was that lived out on the Cliff Road didn't believe in
taking chances with uninvited company.
     "Gramps," she thought, "You have some pretty strange friends.  Who is the Baron Gideon
Redoak?  Your friendly neighbourhood ceremonial magician?"

     It hadn't been that easy to track down Malakai's "old friend".  A search through Gramps'
papers
and letters had yielded a small number of missives from Baron Gideon Redoak, addressed
generally to "My dear Malakai" and written in a somewhat severe hand, the only flourish being
Greek "e"'s. The letters were rather formal for friend to friend, although at least he didn't actually
sign himself as "Baron".  Still, the beautifully embossed and coloured coat of arms at the top of
the
stationery was a bit much... wasn't it?
     And there was no address on a single solitary one of them.  Once in awhile, Redoak had
written
"Oakwoods" beside the date, but that wasn't much of a clue.  Must be a thousand places named
that in this country alone.  And anyone could make up and use their own coat of arms these days.
The College of Heralds couldn't persecute everyone who did so.  Yet, somehow, the strikingly
simple design of a red oak tree on a white background, with a crest of a half a bear holding an oak
leaf, looked very authentic.  People making up their own shields generally went for much fancier
designs.  Karra didn't know much about heraldry, or she would have understood the canting
charge--"red oak", which was a fairly good clue to the authenticity of the arms.  But even
knowing
that wouldn't have helped her with the address of the owner of this striking device.
     Malakai had burned his address book, so that his friends could not be traced by his enemies. 
Anything like envelopes had gone, too.  Still, he had left a way for Karra to find the Baron, if she
would take it.
     Karra picked up what letters there were and took them to bed with her, certain that she was
not
going to sleep.  Garrick was dead.  Layna was dead.  Malakai was dead.  Was she next?
     She read each of the letters, searching for some clue.  From them, she deduced that the Baron
was a quiet businessman of some power in the world, filthy rich, not very outgoing about his
personal life, and probably gay.  This last wasn't too wild a guess when he seldom mentioned any
women in his letters, but spoke somewhat fondly of someone named Joshua.  There were
occasional mentions of people named Mitch, Evan, Michael, Nicholas, Pandora, Maggie--ah,
there
were females--and once in a great while he even mentioned the doings of household pets.  It
would
seem the Baron had two dogs, a cat and a horse, a couple of them with rather odd names.  Who
would call a horse "Calvin"?
     As she continued to read, she gradually filled in her mental picture of a retired gentleman,
possibly a magician of some sort--to have known Malakai well enough to be on letter-writing
basis,
he'd have to have some connection with magic--living a life of quiet luxury on a country
estate--one
of those pillared mansions in the south, perhaps.  He and his long time companion would sit on
the
porch in a rocker, sipping mint juleps, watching the dogs chase the cat across the long grass as the
sun sank down.  This gentle, lovely picture--although the bit about the gay lover jarred a bit--sent
her to sleep smiling.
     She was, of course, dead wrong.

                               ****

>>>  Karra parted her lips and tasted the copper spray from the sea.  Her hair rippled down the
back of her black cloak like strands of stray moonlight, now and then lifting in the damp ocean
breeze.  The ceaseless surge of the surf filled her ears as much as her nose and mouth.  A full
moon painted the glittering waves with dancing faerie lights, and threw the cliffs above the rocky
shore into sharp black relief.  Spiky pine trees grew in profusion.
     Her feet followed the road that her dazzled eyes could not see, and she found herself at the
edge of the cliff on a promontory that jutted out to give a view of ocean and dark sky that went
on
forever.  Here and there lights tried to outdo the heavy moon, but its eerie and breathless light
rendered the scene in blacks and greys, colour vanquished in the perfect night.  A few low clouds
stretched across the sky, their upper halves reflecting the cold light.  
     Feeling the compulsion to turn her back to the ocean, Karra obeyed it reluctantly, for the view
was such as she had never seen.  Her slowly widening eyes beheld a large Georgian manor house,
a few lights still in its diamond-paned upper windows.  A restless whinny and stamp from a nearby
outbuilding made Karra jump, and a teasing tendril of breeze brought the unmistakable smell of
horse over that of the ocean.
     And beyond the house, down the long, winding drive, she saw the outline of two large trees
nodding their sleepy heads in the night wind.  
          Oak trees.
          Red oaks. <<<

     Karra's eyes snapped open and she clutched her sheets.  A few pieces of paper fluttered to the
floor as she watched, bewildered, and took a moment to get her bearings back. 
     A dream.  She had dreamt about the place where Malakai's friend, Baron Gideon Redoak,
lived. 
Most evidently not in some Southern plantation house.  But what a vivid dream it had been!  She
licked her lips and tasted salt.  Sweat, probably, but it added a taste of authenticity to what had to
be what Layna had once called "dreaming true".
     Karra gathered up the scattered letters and knew that she could now find Baron Gideon
Redoak.
She had to only follow her dream.  And it lead... east.
     Which was how she came, after much trial and error, to be sitting in her car and gazing with
trepidation at the Cliff Road sign.  Well, if she was going to risk it, best do so before a patrol car
showed up and she had to explain her business...

     Baron Gideon Redoak pushed a stray lock of his dark hair away from his equally dark eyes and
chewed thoughtfully on his pen.  These were not habitual gestures for him, especially the latter
was
quite uncharacteristic.  With a startled look, he put the pen down.  A fang had punctured the shaft
and he suddenly had a small mouthful of ink.
     Now what on earth had gotten into him?  He was no fledgling to be forgetting himself like
that,
pulling a silly stunt like biting a pen! He had fed earlier in the evening, he had not the excuse of
hunger and deprivation to explain that undesired appearance of fang.  With careful  impatience, he
rose up from his desk and abandoned his letter to Tremayne.  A rapidly-growing gray panther cub
leapt to its feet excitedly.  
     <Can we go for a walk, Mr. Vampire, please?> Smoke asked, rubbing against Gideon's
grey-flannel-clad legs.  <Please?  It's such a pretty night>.
     Despite himself, the vampire smiled.  He was very, very glad that the "no wildlife" rule had
been
violated at his wedding, for Smoke had become a member of the Oakwoods family.  He enjoyed
her company in the very small hours of the morning when even Evan was asleep.  And it was,
indeed, a pretty night.
     <Yes, little one,> he thought back at her.  <Just let me rinse my mouth, and we will go for a
walk
on this pretty night>.
     <Oh, boy!>  Smoke went galumphing out of the study to tell the other animals.  Pumpkin was
annoyed at being woken up from her nest at the foot of Mitch's bed, and bared her teeth at the
overzealous cub.  Warg feigned total deafness.
     For his part, Gideon moved as softly as the cub's name through the master bedroom to make
his way to the bathroom.  The dark, masculine colours of the wallpaper and furniture projected a
feeling of security and comfort in this room, which was filled with things Gideon loved. He
stopped
by the bed to gaze down at the most beloved.  Joshua was sleeping fitfully, tossing a bit, his brow
puckered and covered with a faint sheen of sweat.  Gideon, concerned, stopped and drew the
sheets and covers back up over his husband, feeling Joshua's forehead for signs of fever.  It was
no use, he couldn't tell, not with his own much lower body temperature interfering.  All breathers
felt
feverish to a vampire. He went into the bathroom, rinsed the ink out of his mouth, and found the
very modern thermometer that Pandora had insisted they keep on hand. A quick, unobtrusive
insertion in Joshua's ear, and the gauge read the story:  normal.  Just a nightmare, then, and a bad
one, to judge.
     That was bad enough; but it was much, much better than the alternative--that Josh was starting
to get night sweats.
     "My love," the Baron murmured, stroking Joshua's hand, then his forehead, and adding mental
thoughts of calmness.  "Sssh.... dream of the good, not the bad.  I love you, Joshua.  Banish this
nightmare in that thought."  He kissed the frown away from the slumbering man's brow.
     Joshua, still sound asleep, smiled so sweetly that it made Gideon catch his breath.  The
antiques
expert turned over and settled down into a much easier rest.
     Gideon kissed him again, then left the bedroom before he woke Josh up.

     <Can we go now, Mr. Vampire?> Smoke was dancing eagerly outside the bedroom door.
     <Smoke, you sound like Bunni,> Gideon said kindly.
     <I like Bunni, is she coming to visit?>
     <No, dear one, Bunni is moving to Colorado.>
     <Can we walk there?>
     "No," Gideon said outloud, and Smoke showed her new maturity by not pouting.
     The odd twosome went out the back door of Oakwoods, so that they could see the view from
the promontory.  It was a pretty night, with the full moon and dark, scuttling clouds hanging
above
the ocean.  Yet the vampire frowned, for he sensed something unusual in the breeze that danced
along the cliff top.  Something that did not belong.  But no one and nothing could trespass here,
not
without setting off powerful magical alarms...
     Then why did he smell a faint trace of perfume?  There were no flowers right here, and the
scent
was man-made, anyway. A vampire's nose is never wrong.
     At that moment, he knew there was a strange car on the Cliff Road.  The other denizens of the
Road would be stirring, sniffing the wind, checking their wards, but Gideon knew that this
particular
trouble had his name on it.  He didn't know _how_ he knew.  When Griffin had beefed  up the
spell
on the Cliff Road, he'd somehow customized it.  If the trespasser was thinking of one of the
Brotherhood in particular, somehow that one would know it. 
     With a brief nod towards Griffin's house, acknowledging the mastery of magic this trick had
taken, Gideon looked down at his furry companion.  <Smoke, do you want a real run?>
     <Yes, please!> Smoke was almost boiling at the prospect.
     "Well, then."  Gideon nodded.  He turned, completely unsurprised, as a huge black horse with
glowing red eyes trotted up to him.  None of them had figured just how Calvin got out of his stall
when he wanted to, but then one does not examine too closely the motives of a horse that was a
gift from a Lord of Chaos.
     The Baron, who was an excellent rider, vaulted easily onto the unsaddled black back presented
to him.  Calvin would tolerate neither saddle nor bit, and just barely allowed a halter.  The
demonic
horse's eyes glowed ruby-red  as it reared but failed to unseat its master.  Settling down, Calvin
accepted Gideon's commands and began to run south along the Cliff  Road, Smoke bouncing
eagerly in his wake and Gideon staying easily in place on the ebony express.

     Karra, who was expecting her car to explode or herself to turn into a particularly unattractive
frog,
was very surprised when nothing of the sort happened as she drove onto the Cliff Road.  A voice
niggled at her that this was not right, that surely such powerful protection magic should _do_
something to those who violated it.
     Nothing.  A grove of tall pines, spikes raised against the night sky, passed her to the right, to
the
left the cliff began to rise above the valley.  There was no guardrail, she noticed somewhat
nervously, but surely the magic didn't mean an ignominious fate like driving off the road.  Still
nothing happened.
     Then instinct warned her to brake--gently, so as not to skid off the road--and she did so just as
a huge black horse came out of nowhere, like something from a bad fairy tale.  And, like a fugitive
from the same, there was a handsome young man on the back of the horse.  He had no saddle,
no stirrups or spurs, yet he sat on that beast with all the ease of one at home in his favourite
lounger.  He wore grey clothes that blended so well with the night that he was hard to see, his hair
merely escaped folds of cloud upon his head.  She could only really see him because his skin was
luminously white.
     "You are trespassing," he informed her, as if totally unsurprised to see her.  The horse snorted,
and she noticed that his eyes glowed and were red.  This was more and more like something from
a really bad fantasy novel, Karra thought, except that she could feel the breath from the horse, and
the man on the horse had a very no-nonsense upper class English accent. 
     <But she's so pretty,> said a voice in Karra's head, and she whirled to see who could be
addressing her in the manner.  A smallish grey panther cocked a head up at her from between the
horse's front hooves. <Hello, I'm Smoke.>
     "Smoke, kindly do not speak to strangers unless I give you leave," said the man on the horse,
severely, and Karra saw that he was not quite as young as she had at first thought.  But still
handsome, in a quiet sort of way.  Very commanding.  "State your name and business," he said to
Karra.
      Perfect,' thought Karra.  But at least it isn't the headless horseman. Yet.'
     Cautiously getting out of her car, she warily watched man and beast, wondering idly if this
could
be the man she sought. He didn't have the magic like Gramps' surrounding him, but he was
decidedly different from anyone she'd ever met. 
     The image of this man sitting around drinking mint juleps, or that  cat' allowing any dog to
chase
it briefly entered her mind. If this was Baron Redoak, her imagination had truly outdone itself this
time.
     "I'm Karra Morgan," she told him when she found her voice. "I'm looking for Baron Gideon
Redoak. I think he lives here at a place called Oakwoods."
     He'd already known she was looking for him, so what surprised him was the familiarity of her
name, though he was careful not to show it. With a grace that can only come naturally, he slid off
the back of his horse and stepped forward.
     "Why, might I ask, do you seek him?"
     "My grandfather told me he could help me find someone," Karra replied after deliberating how
much she should tell this stranger.
     "Your grandfather is...?"
     Hesitating only a moment she told him. "Malakai, of the Woodlands."
     "Can you prove this?"
     "To Baron Redoak, yes."
     Curiosity, and concern for an old friend, overruled his suspicions. Bowing slightly, never
taking
his eyes off Karra, he introduced himself and had to stop a chuckle at her look of disbelief.
Apparently, Malakai hadn't told her much about him.
     "But. You're only a part of the magic here. Not its source..." Karra frowned. Surely Gramps
wouldn't have sent her to someone who couldn't protect himself against the others.

     Noticing the slightly lessening tension, Smoke chose that moment to interrupt, <Mr. Vampire,
can I talk to the pretty lady now?>
     <Not yet, Smoke,> he answered. Then noticing Karra's reaction to Smoke's thoughts he said
aloud, "You heard correctly."
     "That's just great!" Karra muttered softly, but sarcastically. "I risk getting fried by Donovan,
ignore
magical warning signs, and get scared half out of my wits by a red eyed horse to find out my
contact
is something I was always warned to stay away from! Great!"
     "For the most part, you probably should," Gideon advised. "Most would recognize your
powers
and be threatened by them. However, if you are who you say you are, you have no reason to fear
anyone on Cliff Road."
     His words effectively brought her pacing to a halt as she considered them. What he said made
sense, of course. If he'd felt threatened, he wouldn't be standing here so close to her. He simply
would have invoked whatever magic it was that protected his space and been done with it. From
her car there would have been little, if anything, she could have done to protect herself.
     "Now, are you willing to prove you are in fact Malakai's granddaughter and not someone sent
by Donovan?"
     Nodding, Karra reached into the car and pulled the letters off the dash. Getting no closer than
necessary, she handed these to Gideon, and in the same motion deposited a duplicate of the
talisman she wore on top of them. Anyone directly associated with Malakai, or their immediate
bloodline, would recognize the energy of the pendant.
     As she stepped back again, she pulled her own talisman out from beneath her shirt to show
that
she wore it. If one of Donovan's sort attempted to wear the same against their bare skin, it would
destroy them instantly, but far from painlessly.
     Gideon quickly made his decision and handed the items back to her. Retaking his seat on
Calvin, he directed to Smoke that it was time to go home, and surprisingly received no argument. 
     To Karra he said, "Follow us back to Oakwoods. It's nearing dawn, and I believe we need to
talk."
     Questioning her sanity at following a vampire anywhere, Karra dared to offer no objection. As
she continued up Cliff Road she began seriously hoping that Gramps' had known what he was
doing when he sent her here.
     Karra's car followed the black horse with difficulty.  It was like trying to follow a shadow in
the
night.  But since it was also impossible to get lost on the Cliff Road, which had no turn offs save
either into a deep valley on one side or the Atlantic on the other, she managed to arrive at the end
of a driveway she remembered vividly from her dream.  Two red oak trees towered on either side
of the entrance, their leaves rustles of darkness.  Acorns and gravel scrunched under  her tires as
she followed the horse.
     'At least he doesn't have a cape,' she thought, eyeing the stocky vampire as he once more
dehorsed gracefully.  She felt a twinge of envy that anyone that... solid (not fat, she thought, just
not the conventional starving corpse) should move so completely effortlessly.

     The house looked exactly as it had in her dream--two stories high, an elegant Georgian facade
with a somewhat unusual L-shape.  Twin doors faced the world behind an elaborate and beautiful
carved oak tree on their surface.  Two brass knockers in the shape of wolf's heads  decorated
these lovely portals.
     Karra--nervous, tired, still stunned from everything that had happened and not really believing
she was here--couldn't help the cheap, obvious line that sprang to her lips upon viewing these
decorations.
     "Nice knockers!"
     There was a mental shout of laughter from Smoke, but the Baron merely rolled his dark eyes
and shook his head.  He'd heard it before.  Often.
     "Thank you, sweetie, yours aren't bad, either," said a voice.
     Karra whirled, defenses on the alert, to find herself staring into the laughing hazel eyes of a
rather good-looking, muscular, red-haired man who was lounging against the door frame.  *She
hadn't heard the doors opening!*  Something about him reminded her of Garrick a little.

     "Evan Jones, at your service," he grinned.  His eyes flickered towards the black horse and its
dismounted rider.  "Everything okay, Gideon?"
     "_Now_ you ask," the vampire shot back.  "Evan, this is Karra Morgan, she's the
granddaughter
of Malakai."
     Evan straightened up and bowed his head.  "Sorry," he told her, instinct warning him not to
ask
about her grandfather.  "I didn't mean any offense."
     "That's okay, I deserved a corny line in return for one," Karra replied, relaxing a little.
     "I'll put Calvin away for you," Evan offered to his employer.  "Ray's here, chomping at the uh,
bit,"
here the protector glanced warily at the horse who would tolerate no such thing, "to know who
set
off his wards." Without waiting for a reply, Evan grabbed Calvin's halter and the horse
condescended to pretend to be led away.
     Karra was left with the man she'd come all this way to meet.  "'Calvin'?" she asked.
     Gideon shrugged.  "It suited," he replied.  He escorted her to the doors of his mansion. 
"Please
come in, Miss Morgan.  Enter freely and of your own will."  He said it without the hint of a smile,
but
she caught the ghost of a twinkle in his unfathomable eyes.
     "I thought you were a Baron," she countered, marveling at how much she already felt at home. 
She could feel a magical energy about this house that fairly made her hair stand on end, but it was
not hostile--merely watchful.
     "I have many titles," he said, and this time even his iron will couldn't keep a brief, startled,
boyish
grin from tugging at his lips. 

     He showed her into a stunning living room, the expanse of which was covered with a
three-inch
deep jade, black, white and grey Aubusson carpet that Karra knew instinctively was not
something
you'd want to spill grape juice on.  A very pretty wallpaper in a willow-leaf pattern covered the
walls,
and the room was filled with antiques like wing chairs, Chippendale tables, the to-die-for tiled
fireplace, and a rather asthmatic grey German Shepherd that rose, yawning and stretching, to
come
and check her out.
     As the beast pressed its wrinkled muzzle into her outstretched palm, Karra recognized it for a
wolf.   An older wolf, not yet decrepit but not far off the mark.  Was nothing in this household the
way
she'd envisioned it?  The "horse" was a red-eyed demon, the Baron was hardly a retired Southern
gentleman, the 'cat' was a panther, and one of the 'dogs' was a wolf.  
     Then every magical alarm Karra had went off as two more men and a dog--an
honest-to-goodness brown-and-white spaniel--came into the living room.  One of the two men
had
an interesting aura about him that made Karra think of deep forests and wolves baying at the
moon. 
He was young, cute and friendly-looking, and marked with the mark of the wolf.  She  realized
that
in a startled second of deep perception.
     'Wampires and verevolves, oh my!' she thought, fleetingly, but knew that this young
lycanthrope
wasn't what had made her go tingly.
     The other man.  The quintessential man in black.  He was gazing at her with narrowed blue
eyes
that were about the same temperature as your average glacier.  He was the first male in this
household who wasn't good-looking, in any sort of way.  His face bore the testimony of a  hard,
brutal life.  He had a fairly decent body, but he was holding it like a  strung bow with an arrow
notched--he was tense enough to snap. His incongruous curly brown hair only made him look
tougher.  And he fairly shrieked with magical power.  
     He was, undeniably, the mage who had set the defense wards on the Cliff Road sign, the one
who held the reins of power that ran along this road like telephone lines.  You could almost smell
it on him, the way the air has a sharp scent to it when an electrical socket sparks.
     He was a very dangerous man.
     "Miss Morgan."  The Baron's soft voice made Karra jump. "May I introduce Mitch Pritchard,"
this
was the tall, lanky boy wolf, harmless compared to the other, "and Raymond Griffin.  This is
Karra
Morgan, the granddaughter of a friend of mine."
     "Hey," said Mitch, "I like it when pretty girls arrive in the dead of  night."
     Griffin nodded his head almost imperceptibly.  "What are you playing at?" he growled, making
Gideon frown and all three of the animals underfoot prick up their ears.
     Looking him over, Karra bit back a sharp retort. There was no reason to insult her host by
blasting one of his neighbours as soon as she'd entered his home. With effort, she attempted to
relax her own magical defenses to convey a non-threatening stance. She debated only briefly
before answering Griffin's challenge.
     "Nothing that concerns your wards, Mr. Griffin. Leastways, I hope it won't. I've come only
seeking
Baron Redoak's assistance in a personal, family matter."
     Griffin's only comment to this was a gruff, "Really?"
     Taken aback only momentarily by the obvious, charged friction between the two, Gideon
chose
to intervene. Indicating that they should all sit down and _relax_, he watched as Karra and Ray
warily avoided getting too close to one another. Even Mitch and the animals were getting slightly
confused by the high level of tension. Shaking his head, Gideon realized that whatever this was
about, it wasn't going to be easy.

     "From now on that damned horse can take care of himself," Evan was heard muttering as the
front door slammed.
     The pets perked up their ears at his voice, and Gideon and Mitch had to share a conspiratorial
grin despite the tension. Apparently this wasn't the first time they'd heard the threat. Evan was still
mumbling as he strode into the living room, either oblivious to, or deliberately ignoring the
underlying strain. Most likely the latter.
     "Would anyone care for a drink?" Gideon offered. "Evan? You look like you need one."
     After drinks were passed around and Evan had finished grumbling  about Calvin, Gideon
looked
to Karra.
     "Miss Morgan..."
     "Just Karra, please," she interrupted softly. She hated being called "Miss".
     "As long as you call me Gideon." At her nod he continued, "I know it's late and you're tired,
but
I must express my curiosity as to why you are here. I've not heard from Malakai in months."
     "Gramps died nearly five weeks ago," Karra told him. "I've only  known it myself a few days
now."
     Gideon and Evan both expressed their shock (they'd thought Malakai to be virtually invincible)
and offered their condolences. When questioned about his death, Karra had to admit ignorance.
     "Surely Garrick knows?" Evan asked.
     "Donovan's people got to him before he could tell me," Karra  stated flatly.
     "Donovan?!" Griffin demanded, causing nearly everyone in the room to flinch. "What have you
to do with him?!"
     Getting frustrated with this predatorial nonsense, Karra glared  at him with eyes as cold as his
own. "Only his death if he stands in my way!"
     "Ahem," Gideon interrupted, frowning. These two just _weren't_  going to get along. "It's
almost
dawn, and I have the distinct  impression we should all get some rest before continuing this.
Mitch, 
would you bring in Karra's bags and put them in the guest room?"
     "Sure," he answered, jumping to his feet. "Is the car locked?"

     Karra handed him the keys, sensing his relief at having an excuse to leave the room. Feeling
she should apologize to Gideon for her outburst, but uncertain how to do so, she was grateful
when
he excused himself to see Ray to the door. As they left the room she was surprised to hear Evan
chuckling.
     "A real spitfire when you get mad, huh?" he smiled. "Not many  people risk getting on Ray's
bad
side."
     She shrugged, still somewhat embarrassed by her reaction to the mage. "Gramps always did
say I had a temper."
     "I believe I recall Garrick saying the same a long time ago,"  Evan remembered. "He also
claimed you had the abilities to back that  temper up..." he fished.
     Again, Karra shrugged. "For ten years, Gramps blocked the  training from my memory. Up
until
a couple of days ago, I didn't even know the knowledge existed."
     "He was trying to protect you from Donovan," Gideon stated as he walked into the room.
He'd
heard the trace of bitterness in her voice and wondered if she held a grudge against Malakai for
the
memory block.
     "I know," she admitted reluctantly. "It's just going to take some getting used to... and some
practice."
     At their upraised eyebrows, she quickly assured them, "Practice, someplace other than here,
that is."
     Nodding in rather relieved agreement ( he wouldn't have wanted to be the one to explain
_that_
to Ray), Gideon then asked, "Who is it  that you are looking for?"
     "My father, Lucas Morgan."
     Blank looks all around. Smoke pressed her head into Karra's hand.
     <You don't have a Daddy?> the cub asked sadly.  <You can share mine.  My Mom and Dad
might come to visit soon.>
     <Thank you, Smoke, that's very kind of you,> Karra ruffled the cub's fur.
     <You can talk to me!> the grey star panther looked excited.
     <Of course I can.  But now, I think, it's bedtime.>
     "Well past it, rather," Gideon smiled.  
     "I'll show her to her room!" two male voices chorused, and a pair of hazel eyes locked with a
pair
of amber ones (it was almost the full moon).  Mitch had come back in with Karra's bags, and was
currently  trying to out glare Evan.
     "_I_ shall escort Karra to her room," Gideon replied.  "You may bring her bags."
     <Can I sleep in the pretty lady's room?> Smoke asked, unconsciously --or perhaps not--
echoing
the thoughts of two of the men in the room.
     <No, Smoke,> Gideon replied.  <Or anyone _else_ for that matter,> he added, and since they
were all attuned to Smoke, Evan and Mitch both blushed.
     Karra was shown into the Rose Room, made as comfortable as possible, and assured that she
could sleep in as late as she liked.  
     "You haven't met quite the whole household yet," Gideon told her just before he bid her
goodnight.  He looked down at the white gold wedding band on his left hand--Karra hadn't
noticed
it till now.  
     'A wedding ring?' she thought. 'But...'  Something else wrong with her mental picture, she
chided
herself.
     "Sometime tomorrow, no doubt, you'll meet Joshua," Gideon went on  softly. "He is certainly
no
one you need to be afraid of, he's very  mortal.  The only one in the house, besides Pumpkin and
Warg," he added with a quiet laugh.  "He and I... well..."

     "It's okay," Karra said impulsively, though this kind of attachment wasn't something she really
understood.
     And she wondered why Gideon gave her such a sad, tired smile, the smile of a very lost man.
"Is it?" he asked, not to her.  Then he recollected himself with a little shake.  "I'll say goodnight,
then,
Karra," he said, with a little bow.  "Sleep well, and keep the wolves from your door."  There was
that
brief grin again that made him look like a teenager, and he was gone.

     When Karra awoke later that morning, she sat up in bed and wondered who had transported
her
into a garden. The Rose Room was aptly named, after all--there was gorgeous flowered
wallpaper,
a carefully-matched carpet, a pretty, hand-woven bedspread, and delicate antique furniture
obviously made for women.  It was a very enchanting, feminine room.  In a house full of men? 
Surely the pink motif was a bit much for even the gayest of blades...
     Chiding herself for such uncharitable thoughts towards her host--who certainly had not acted
at
all like a stereotype--Karra swung out of bed and made her way to the nesuite bathroom.  This
was
an equally pretty, if functional, room and she put it to good use. Refreshed and dressed, she
ventured to the door and let herself out into the hall.
     "Arf!"  A furry brown and white missile launched itself into Karra's startled arms, and
proceeded
to scour her face with a happy tongue while its small body wiggled with pleasure and a short,
plumed tail thumped against her ribs in 3/4 time.
     "Well, hello, there," she said, managing to fend off the spaniel's excited kisses.  There was no
trace of anything magical about this critter!
     "Pumpkin, get down!" A tall, lean, sandy-haired man came up the stairs and down the hallway. 
He pointed firmly at the floor and the abashed dog squirmed out of Karra's embrace and plopped
to the floor, tail still wagging.  "Sorry about that," continued the man, grinning at Karra.  "I'm
Joshua
Trevallion.  That is Pumpkin, currently in disgrace."
     The spaniel didn't look disgraced, as her tail continued to raise dust from the hall carpet.
     "Karra Morgan," she said, and shook Joshua's offered hand.  What nice eyes, she thought,
noting their unusual butterscotch colour and the twinkle in them.  Like most other people meeting
him for the first time, she had already succumbed to Josh's warmth and humour.
     "Of course you are," he laughed.  "Unless we took in another stray waif over night, and no one
thought to tell me."
     Karra released his hand, looking thoughtful. She had picked up a very odd energy from him,
something _very_ wrong.  There were strain marks around those lovely eyes, and he was a bit
pale. 
Was he ill?
     "Would you like some breakfast?" he was asking her.  "Your wish is my command."
     "If it's no trouble..."
     "Cooking," he assured her solemnly, "is a joy, a pleasure, and a treat. Besides, we can make
Mitch do the dishes."
     She couldn't help laughing, and let Josh escort her down the wide, sweeping staircase, and into
the back of the mansion where the kitchen was located.  Pumpkin traveled hopefully with them.
     The kitchen was as wonderful as the rest of the house that Karra had seen so far--lots of
counter
space, including an island down the middle; lots of cupboards, gleaming pots and pans hanging
from hooks, all modern appliances, a breakfast nook with a huge window giving a view of the
ocean... she started feeling a bit dizzy at the idea of just _how_ much money the Baron had to
have
to maintain this all.
     No sooner had Joshua settled Karra at the breakfast table then both Mitch and Evan appeared
on the scene as if summoned.  Both looked suspiciously clean and pressed, making Warg wrinkle
his nose at his master in disgust.  Had he used... scent?  Urgh, thought the wolf.
     <Breakfast?> Smoke thought, nosing her dish.
     "Breakfast?" Mitch asked.  He commenced to feed the animals, all three of them getting
generous helpings of their respective kibbles.
     "Breakfast!" Evan commanded, eyes hungrily falling on the pancake batter Josh was stirring. 
He was, after all, in high cycle and politeness to Gideon's guest was enforcing him _not_ to satisfy
that half of his urges.
     "I am not making you several dozen pancakes," Josh warned the protector. "Have some cereal
or something."
     Evan sighed, sat down and consumed an entire box of Frosted Flakes, then started on some
fruit.
     Karra looked startled--Garrick and Layna had both eaten like that at intervals--Evan must be
one
of their race!  Evan noticed her expression, and swallowed some apple.
     "Sorry," he said, "It's not very polite of me to go ahead and eat, but I can't help it."
     "I know," she replied.  "It's okay."
     Soon Josh brought pancakes, syrup, bacon and orange juice to the table and they all tucked in,
managing to fend off Evan long enough to get their fair share of the food. It disappeared quickly,
and Karra was almost feeling at home by the time she'd finished her meal.  Everyone had even
pretended not to notice when she slipped pieces of bacon to three waiting muzzles.

     "Let me show you the house while these two clean up," Josh suggested, and soon Karra,
replete
and happy, was oohing over Gideon's stunning roses in the conservatory, examining the thousands
of titles in the library, and even going out to say 'hello' to Calvin in his stall. Smoke went with
them,
keeping up a mostly one-sided conversation all the way.
     "I'm sorry about your grandfather," Josh said as they walked along the cliff path behind
Oakwoods.  "I never met him, but Gideon valued his friendship highly."
     "However did they meet?" Karra asked.
     "I don't know.  I think Gideon just meets everyone, sooner or later." He touched his own
wedding
ring in an oddly familiar gesture.  "Well, we'd better go back inside before Evan eats everything in
the house."
     They went back in through the kitchen door, and found Evan guiltily munching on a celery
stick.  "Michael just called," he said to ward off Josh's frown.  "He wants to know if everything
here is okay, and he and the others will be over tonight."
     "All the others?" Josh asked, while Karra looked puzzled.
     "No, just the magic users."
     "I'd better check the supply of Scotch, then."
     "I'll go get some, give me a shopping list."
     Josh wrote one out, and Evan disappeared with it.  They could hear his car going down the
drive
awhile later.
     "I hope the restaurants in town are well-stocked," Mitch laughed, upon coming into the
kitchen--the daytime hub of activity in Oakwoods-- and being told where Evan had gone.  The
animals were constantly underfoot here, too, always hoping for some fallen scrap.
     "What's all this about Michael, other magic users, and tonight?" Karra asked, causing the two
remaining men in the kitchen to look at each other.
     They did their best to explain about the Brotherhood of Darkness to Karra.


     Karra nodded a lot during the rather convoluted explanation, and ended up looking adorably
confused--an expression that seemed to cross a lot of faces in Oakwoods, sooner or later. Finally,
they all gave it up as a bad cause, and decided to have lunch, instead.  
     "You'll see tonight," Josh predicted.

     After lunch, the house grew quiet.  Evan returned and was busily putting away groceries, Josh
excused himself to take a nap.  Mitch challenged Karra to play ping pong in the mansion's game
room.
     She accepted, and so got a tour of the basement, which she had not yet seen.  The sight of a
silver-warded cell made her pause, but she saw Mitch shudder a bit and suddenly knew what it
was
for.  And tonight was the full moon--the poor boy.  They passed that quickly, plus the more 
mundane rooms like the laundry, furnace and cold storage ones, and into the quite spectacular
games room.  This had a window cut into the cliff itself, so that it gave an unparalleled view of the
ocean.  There was a card table, a billiard table, a ping-pong table, a stack of board games, a tv and
VCR... all the comforts and then some.
     "We get snowed in a lot," Mitch grinned, setting up the ping-pong table. "Evan's got a weight
room down here, too, if you feel the need to do any bench presses."
     "No, thanks," Karra grinned.
     They played to while away the afternoon, and could hear Evan working out in the weight
room
next door.  Eventually Joshua made his way down to call them all upstairs to help with dinner.  
     "It's getting late," Mitch sighed.  "Moon's rising."  His voice was  gruff, his five o'clock
shadow
was definitely heading toward midnight.
     "Do you want to be locked up tonight?" Evan asked, somehow once again appearing without
Karra hearing him approach.
     "Yeah, maybe it'd be for the best," Mitch nodded at Karra.  "See you tomorrow, though I'll be
feeling pretty sick."
     He and Evan went in the direction of the cell.
     "Does he _have_ to be locked up?" Karra asked.
     "It' really for his own safety," Josh replied, leading the way back upstairs.  "We don't if it's just
us around, because Evan can control him if he gets out of hand, but with someone else in the
house..."

     Gideon was already downstairs when Karra and Josh came up, he greeted her with a nod of his
head.  She noted the way he and Joshua looked at each other--anyone in the path of _that_ gaze
would be friend to a crisp.  Karra filed that away in the sparse-but-growing pile of things  she was
learning about gay couples.  There could be genuine love between them.
     Dinner was another excellent meal, and Evan did his best to eat politely.  That out of the way,
the Oakwoods Boys started preparing for their other guests to arrive--preparations that seemed to
mostly insure there was an unlimited supply of Glenfiddich on hand.
     And soon they arrived--Michael Fairlawn, the short but powerful Archdruid, Nicholas and
Pandora, Bard and Healer, Maggie Bruce, the Enhancer, and Ray Griffin, the Man in Black.  After
introductions had been made, and Griffin was persuaded not to sit glaring at Karra _all_ night, 
they
all sat expectantly for Karra's story.

     Not being accustomed to being in the limelight, and not  altogether sure she liked the position,
Karra began her story:

     "As you know, my grandfather, Malakai, died about five weeks ago. His guardian, Garrick,
notified me and told me it was time to return home. Gramps had sent me away ten years ago to 
protect me, though at the time I didn't know from what."
     Taking a sip of her brandy, Karra thought a moment about how to proceed. There was so
much
she still didn't know. How could she expect these people to be able to help her?
     "After returning home I regained the memories that Gramps had blocked from my mind.
Garrick
was to explain everything then, but somehow Donovan's people lured him outside the safety of
the
woodlands and attacked him. By the time I found him, it was too late."
     "The woodlands are inhabited by spirits that protect Gramps' home. They can prevent
Donovan's sort from entering, but I don't know how long they could keep Donovan himself out.
In
lieu of this, I knew I had to leave my home again in search of my father."
     "Gramps once told me that if he or Garrick couldn't help me, to turn to Baron Gideon Redoak.
Unfortunately, he left me with no tangible means of finding him. Only a few letters written by
Gideon,
minus envelopes or a return address. I fell asleep while reading these letters, and by 'dreaming
true', I was able to find my way here."
     "All I know about my father is almost useless. His name is Lucas Morgan, his true age is near
200, and unless he's changed his appearance, he looks like a slightly younger version of Gramps.
He's a sorcerer who practices, or practiced, protection magic as did Gramps."
     "I honestly don't know if you can help or not, but Gramps seemed to think so or he wouldn't
have
sent me here. I only know that I have to find my father before Donovan finds me," she concluded.

     "If you are able to dream true, is there a way you can use this to find Lucas?" Michael asked.
     "I don't know. Layna once told me there was a way to focus the dreams, but she didn't know
how. Gramps said the dreams came from my mother and that Father would explain them when the
time came."
     Shaking her head in frustration she added, "Gramps taught me what I had to know. The rest I
was to learn when Father and I were reunited."
     "I never fully understood Malakai's magic," Gideon was saying. "What can you tell us about it
and what we can expect should we encounter Donovan anytime soon?"
     "Basically, we draw energy from the four elements. Whatever we take from the elements, be it
energy or materials, must be returned in one form or another or we risk losing our powers. We
can
also draw strength from the woodland spirits under certain conditions, but we must, at all costs,
protect them from misuse. If we don't, they could easily decide to vacate the woodlands, thereby
leaving the family home open to attack."
     "How do you 'return' to the elements? I'm confused about that." Joshua asked.
     "If we take materials, we can only take what we can rightfully use. In return for this we do
what
we can to replace what we've taken by planting, nurturing, etc. When we take energies, we pay
with
our own energies. As we draw on the elements, they draw on our life force. Which is one reason
we can't, and won't, abuse what's been given to us."
     "You mean using your magic could kill you?" Nicholas asked in amazement.
     "Only if it's misused," she smiled. "As long as we abide by the rules set down by our ancestors,
our life energy will be returned after we've rested. The stronger one is, the less time it takes to
regain that energy."
     "What about Donovan?" Ray grumbled. "He doesn't seem to have any problem abusing his
powers."
     Surprised that Griffin was even speaking to her, much less asking a relatively civil question,
Karra chose to ignore the tone it was delivered in.

     "That's because he isn't a Protector and doesn't have to play by our rules. His powers, while
also
based on the same elements, are strengthened by hatred, rather than the more benevolent spirits.
And in this world there's plenty of hate to last him an eternity. If he continues though, he will
eventually turn the elements against those of us that would use them for good. Leastways, that
seems to be his intentions."
     "And you think _you_ can stop him?" Sarcasm dripped rather freely from Ray's question.
     "No," Karra answered truthfully. "I don't have the knowledge, or the power yet. That's why I
have
to find Father. Without him, I don't dare face Donovan."
     "With, or without your help," she added softly, looking directly at Ray.
     Shaking his head at the continued antagonism between Ray and Karra, Gideon asked, "Do you
have any idea where Lucas might be? Or how we might go about finding him?"
     "No. The only time I ever saw my father was the day I was born. I don't believe even Gramps
had any contact with him after that."
     "How long ago was that?" Pandora asked softly.
     "It will soon be 130 years," Karra sighed, still not believing that the first twelve years of her
life
had spanned more than a century. To her, it had seemed a normal frame of time.

     At the startled looks from everyone except Gideon and Evan, she tried to explain. "While
Gramps was teaching me, he held my aging to one year for every ten that passed. When I left
home at twelve, I had been training with him for 120 years, then started aging naturally. Now that
I've returned to the 'fold' so to speak, I'll stop aging again unless I choose to do so."
     "Then you're immortal?" Maggie wanted to know.
     "Not exactly," she shook her head. "A lot of things can kill me, but not as easily as they might
someone else. As long as it isn't fatal, I can heal. I just don't have to worry about old age as long
as I don't lose the powers."
     "Can you heal others?" Michael's curiosity was aroused.
     "To a degree," she admitted reluctantly. "If the injury is caused by magic, I usually can. Any
other
healing is questionable. It requires the cooperation of the spirits. Gramps once said it depended on
what mood the spirits were in and how much we were willing to pay."
     She finished with a fond smile in remembrance of Malakai and patiently awaited any further
questions. She sincerely hoped she'd explained enough, because she had actually told them more
than anyone outside the bloodline should know. Surely, the woodland spirits would understand
her
reasons.
     "Whatever I can do to help, I will," Michael promised Karra.  "Donovan's like should be
stopped.
Your magic isn't dissimilar to mine, if you think you'd like me to help you try to learn it."
     "Thank you," Karra's eyes shone at this unexpected offer.  An Archdruid, a master of green
magic!  He would be an enormous help. The woodland sprites would certainly listen to him.
     "You have my help, too," Maggie said warmly, leaning over to give Karra quick hug.  "I can
help
boost your magic, and I know the odd trick or two."  She grinned and tossed her fiery red hair.
     "We're with you," said Pandora, linking hands with her Bard.  "Anything we can do, just ask."
     "And you know you have my support, and that of my whole household," Gideon smiled at her. 
"I will revenge Malakai."  He said it quietly, but even so it made Karra's blood run cold for a
moment.
     Everyone looked at the member of the Brotherhood who had not yet spoken.  Griffin was
staring
at some cards in his hand, touching one gently, a look on his face that softened it until he was
almost human.  He felt the pressure of eyes on him and reluctantly put his Trumps away.  Karra
caught the whiff of strong, but clean magic from those cards and was intrigued.

     "Oh, I'm with you," said the mage, eyes locking with Karra.  "You'll need me to counter
Donovan.
I'm the only one who can beat him at his own game."
     "Then it's settled," Gideon rose as everyone digested this statement. "More drinks, anyone?"
     "Not for me," said Joshua.  "I think I'd better turn in.  Pandora, do you want to tuck me in?" 
He
grinned at her, but the healer caught the undertone.
     "Of course, Josh," she replied.  "Nicholas, I'll be back down shortly."
     "I'll be here, mo croidhe," he replied with a lazy smile.
     The topic turned back to Karra, Malakai, Donovan, and the missing Lucas. Eventually
Pandora
returned, and spoke briefly and quietly to a  worried-looking Gideon.  The vampire's expression
cleared up a little, and he smiled and squeezed the healer's shoulder.
     Only when the conversation finally died down and the magical guests departed for their own
homes did Karra learn what that had been all about.  When Gideon showed her to the Rose Room
and wished her good night, Karra dared to place a hand on his arm.
     "Is everything okay?" she asked.  "Joshua's not ill, is he?"
     He smiled, but it was a sad, lost smile.  "He has HIV," came the quiet reply.  "But it's not
AIDS
yet.  But his health is beginning to fail."
     "I'm so sorry."  She hugged him before she could stop the impulse.
     "Thank you, my dear."  He looked startled but not displeased.  "However, your problem is of
more immediate concern.  You should get some sleep, no doubt at least some of last night's
guests
will be back tomorrow to question you further."
     "No doubt," Karra sighed, thinking of the unfriendly Griffin.  "Good night, then."
     "Good night."  Gideon nodded and left her.

>>>  Shadows stretched long and dark across the great expanse of sparse, brown grass. Karra
looked in all directions, desperately seeking the one who had called her to this place, but he was
nowhere to be seen.
     Again, she heard the voice, its deep, familiar timbre pulling her along in its wake. She was now
in a building. Old and rustic from the looks of the inside. It seemed to be a hollowed out church
or
chapel of some sort.
     The voice was calling to her from beyond a darkened archway at the back of the room.
Stopping
short of crossing the threshold, she felt the magic of the Destroyers at work here. Opening her
senses to their fullest, she realized that entering this room would mean death.
     From the murky blackness, she heard her father's voice, "Child,  you must hurry. I have little
time
left to live in this place."
     "Where are we, Father? If I knew, I could come!"
     "I don't know," came his dejected reply. Then suddenly, forcibly, he shouted, "You must go!
Now! Donovan is coming!"
     Even before Lucas finished his warning, Donovan stormed into the room behind Karra, angry
that she had somehow penetrated his territory so easily despite all his guards. Casting a grey light
from his hands, he tried to force Karra into the room which contained her father... and her death.
     Having already prepared herself, she easily diffused the callous effort long before it  reached
her,
infuriating the master Destroyer.  Pulling his energies together, he attacked her with blazing
flashes
of fire that raged at the shields she'd erected. He knew she was still a child and no match for his
strength without her father.
     Suddenly, the fiery streaks broke through Karra's personal shield and touched her... <<<
     Crying out in anguish, Karra awoke and clutched her forearms to her chest. Her ragged
breathing came in gasps as the pain radiated throughout her upper body. Sitting curled up in a
ball,
she began rocking herself, trying to quell the pain, as she broke into a cold sweat. She was
vaguely
aware of someone knocking insistently at her bedroom door, but wasn't able to acknowledge
them.
     "Karra?" Evan called as he gave up propriety and pushed the door open. "Karra, what's
wrong?"
     Sensing the magic that still hovered lightly in the room, he cautiously entered and stepped
closer
to the bed. Uncertain whether or not it would be wise to touch her in this state -- not to mention
_his_ state of being in high cycle -- he opted instead to call her name again. After all, she _was_
Malakai's granddaughter, and Gideon's guest.
     "I'm fine," she finally muttered in a tone that clearly told Evan she wasn't.
     "Why don't I believe that?" he questioned as he stood next to her.
     When he didn't receive an answer, he ignored his better judgement and touched her shoulder.
The contact shocked Karra into sitting up straight and pulling away from him, but not before he
saw
her hands. Frowning, he reached out and lightly grasped one wrist and gasped at the heat
emanating off her arm.
     "What happened?" he demanded, softly, but firmly.
     "A dream," Karra answered, trying to pull free of Evan's hold.
     "A dream?" He asked in disbelief. "A dream did this?"
     Gently tugging both her arms out straight, Evan's frown deepened as he saw the extent of the
burns. From each palm, a fiery trail about an inch wide tracked up her arms nearly to the elbows.
The heat from the burns was lessening, but was still too intense for comfort -- hers, or his.
     "I dream true," Karra tried to explain, finally retrieving her hands and quickly covering herself.
Neither of them had missed the fact that her damp nightgown hid very little.
     "Donovan has my father," she continued, her voice a bit huskier than normal. "He caught my
dream self at Father's prison and attacked me. I don't think he realized it wasn't really _me_ until
the last second or  two."
     "Do you know where Lucas is?"
     "No. Neither did he," she admitted. "I know what the inside of  the building looks like, and
some
of the landscape nearby. If Donovan hadn't shown up when he did I might have at least picked up
a direction."
     Nodding, Evan finally seemed to realize that neither of them really needed to be carrying on
this
conversation in her bedroom. As he headed toward the door, he asked, "Is there anything I can
bring you for your arms?"
     "No, thanks," she smiled, if a little bitterly. "Remember, it was just a dream. It'll go away."
     Doubting that the burns were all _that_ minor, Evan reluctantly decided it would be best not to
linger any longer.  "Can I call Pandora for you?" he asked at the door.
     "No, really," Karra said.  "It's magic, it'll heal."
     "All right, then."

     Evan left the Rose Room and looked at the firmly-shut door of the master bedroom.  It was
after
dawn, so Gideon should be well-under.  Not even the animals had woken up to investigate the
fuss. 
     <Thank Whomever that the fire was only magical,> Evan said to himself,  trying very hard not
to think of Oakwoods in flames.  There were wards on the house, and smoke alarms, but still...
well,
it hadn't happened, and he could go about preparing the house for the oncoming day.  He  hoped
Karra's hands would be okay.

     For Karra, it had been a long day. After such a rude awakening this morning, she'd not been
able to even contemplate going back to sleep. By the time she'd showered, dressed and gone
downstairs for an early breakfast with Evan, the burns were faded to almost nothing. Evan
insisted
on cleaning up the kitchen (probably so he could continue munching unobserved), and Karra had
spent a quiet early morning outside.

     Not long before lunch time, Mitch made his way outside to say good morning. It was obvious
that
he wasn't feeling well and ought to be resting, but he wanted to visit awhile before going back
inside.
     "If you're going to insist, then stay right here a minute," Karra told him. "I'll be right back.."
     When she returned, she sat down next to him and handed him a small, perfectly shaped crystal.
"This is a crystal from the woodland spirits at home. If you believe in its energy, it'll help you get
your
strength back."
     Smiling a little doubtfully, he thanked her and put it in his pocket.
     Understanding, she gave him a quick hug and smiled telling him, "Remember, it only works if
you believe in it."
     "I think I'm feeling better already," he'd answered, returning her hug.
     The rest of the afternoon was spent mostly with Michael. He showed her some of his magic,
and
spent time discussing the differences between their respective abilities. All in all it was an
enlightening afternoon for all parties involved.
     More time was given to talk of Lucas and Donovan after Gideon woke up. Karra shared her
dream and her belief that Donovan was keeping her father prisoner. No one liked the idea of his
having managed to actually harm her through her dream, but she assured them that the magic
would not be able to pass beyond her if it ever happened again. Once awakened, the dream ended,
therefore the magic also ended. 
     To the best of Karra's knowledge, the only way Donovan's magic could affect them would be
if
they had either encountered him in the past, or did so in the future. If he'd met any of them and
knew them well enough, he could affect their dreams, but not do them any physical harm unless
he was actually present.
     Calling it an early night, the others soon went home still trying to come up with a means of
locating either Donovan or Lucas before it was too late. Not long after, Karra herself gave up and
headed for the Rose Room hoping for a quiet, dreamless night.

>>>  Karra felt herself tugged along the edges of sleep and was soon floating high above the
dilapidated ruins of a church.  From this vantage point, it looked to be totally deserted, but she
knew
differently. Her father was trapped inside that building and she had to get to him.
     All her senses on alert, Karra cautiously glided toward the roof and effortlessly passed through
it. She could perceive no one inside other than the man she sought as she brought herself to the
floor.
     "Father?" she called softly as she walked up to the room in which her father was being kept
prisoner.
     "I knew you would come, Child," he answered. "But you must not stay long. He'll soon know
you
are here."
     "I won't," she promised, shivering as she remembered  the last time Donovan had found her
here. "Only long enough to find out where you are."
     When she heard nothing from the darkness, she stepped as close to the doorway as she could
without being caught in Donovan's trap. Even in this form, she couldn't pass through the magic
guarding her father without meeting her death.
     "Father, can you come to the door? I'd like to see you. To know you're all right."
     "I cannot, Child. Donovan has me trapped. Body and powers," he sighed. "I haven't the
strength
to unfasten my bonds anymore. He is slowly draining my powers from me."

     "How can I free you if I can't get to you?" she asked almost desperately. "We have to get you
out of there!"
     "As long as you live and breathe, Child, you cannot enter this room unless Donovan is
destroyed," he told her. "No living creature can cross that threshold."
     "Then how...?"
     "Not now," he interrupted. "You must go and find out where this place is before he returns. I'll
not see you harmed again because of me."
     With those words, Karra found herself once again above the building. She knew Lucas would
be angry if she defied his request, so she instead sought out any sign of where she might be.
     Staying well above the tree line, she could hear the ocean beyond the trees and dunes behind
the church. The rutted drive leading away from her seemed to disappear into a thicket of wild
brush
and trees.  Following the drive to its end she discovered a crossroad. It was hardly more than a
cow
path now, deep ruts sunk into the dirt, seemingly impassable. 
     As she lowered herself to stand in the middle of the road she caught a glimpse of a weathered,
wooden sign post lying in a shallow ditch. Carefully, she knelt down beside it and began pulling
the
weeds loose from their tight grip. Beneath a heavy layer of graffiti she could barely make out
these
words:
     Sanction Crossroads Church
     She softly muttered the words aloud, then stood, debating whether or not she should attempt
to reach the town she could sense was near here. Before she could decide, she felt a presence
approaching from behind. Abruptly she whirled around, defenses in place. <<<

     Karra sat up in bed, not knowing exactly where she was at first. As recognition settled around
her, she relaxed and laid back against her pillow. At least now she had something a little more
solid
to go on. Grateful she hadn't disturbed anyone with this dream, she tossed back the covers and
grabbed her robe. It was time for a shower and breakfast.
     "You're up mighty early," Evan remarked as she made her way into the kitchen.
     "Is that coffee I smell?" she asked, deliberately ignoring the comment for now.
     Passing her a mug filled with steaming black coffee, Evan offered to fix breakfast. He figured
she'd tell him what was up when she was good and ready.
     "I'll make you a deal," Karra grinned. "You did such a grand job of cleaning up yesterday, I'll
fix
breakfast this morning. Provided you get the stuff out that I need, that is."
     "On one condition."
     Eyeing him suspiciously, she asked, "And what might that be?"
     "That you can cook," he laughed.
     It wasn't long before Evan had the counter piled high with sausage, eggs, potatoes and
biscuits.
He only stopped rummaging for food when Karra started tapping her fingernails on the tabletop.
With a guilty grin, he shrugged and turned the stove and food over to her.
     She'd barely gotten the first pan full of sausage finished by the time the pets roamed into the
kitchen having smelled breakfast in progress. Evan took care of them, snatching a hot sausage
patty on his way past the stove.
     "You'll just have to wait," Karra told all three animals as they looked up from their respective
dishes hoping for more than their usual morning fair. "And you," she grinned, smacking Evan's
hand as he grabbed another patty, "had best save some for the others!"
     As if her words were an invocation, Mitch and Josh wandered into the kitchen.
     "Putting our guest to work, Evan?" Josh questioned, sitting down only after being assured that
help wasn't needed.

     "She offered, and I couldn't resist!" he insisted as he gauged his chances of swiping more
sausage without getting caught.
     Chatter flew back and forth across the kitchen, and in no time breakfast was served. Toward
the
end of the meal, Karra finally got around to mentioning her dream. Without going into much
detail,
she asked if any of them knew of a place called Sanction Crossroads.
     "Sanction Crossroads."  Josh shook his head.  "Unless they have antiques there..."
     "Shhh," Evan held up his hand, concentration written on the lines on his brow.  "Sanction
Crossroads," he muttered.  "Seems I know something... let me make a phone call or two."  He
whipped out of the kitchen before any of the others could utter a word.
     "People come and go so quickly here," Karra remarked, and Mitch snickered.

     Pumpkin plopped her furry self into Karra's lap, hoping for some leftover sausage, and Smoke
jealously nudged the spaniel's backside to get her to jump off.
     "Stop that, you," Josh warned the animals.  <Smoke, you know better.>
     <I'm sorry, Mr. Breather,> Smoke replied, <but Pumpkin gets all the snackies.>
     <No, she doesn't> Josh said, ignoring Karra's laugh.  "Pumpkin, get down!  I swear we should
make that your official name."
     Pumpkin got down, wagging her tail.  She almost, but not quite, stuck her tongue out at
Smoke,
and the two promptly got into a tussle on the floor.  Warg sniffed his disdain at these childish
antics
and quietly scarfed the piece of sausage Mitch slipped him while the others were fighting.
     "Who needs children?" Josh asked, grinning at Karra.
     "Gee, Mr. Breather," Karra replied, nearly rolling on the floor, "can I have a snackie?"
     Just then Evan came back in.  He shook his head at the proceedings and promptly ate some
toast someone had foolishly left on a plate.
     "Sanction Crossroads is down the coast a ways," he said.  "It's an abandoned town, left behind
when things started getting a little too weird for the mundanes.   Guess they didn't have the same
arrangements we do in Fletcherville."
     A momentary shudder passed through all three men as they envisioned having to move on, as
so many of their kind did.  They knew they were incredibly lucky to have found so
accommodating
a place.  
     "Anyway," Evan continued between munches, "Sanction Crossroads used to be quite a place
for, er, paranormal activities.  Nameless used to live there, which is why it rang a bell."
     Once again, the non-Nameless marveled at the way that strange race seemed to have a pool
of collective knowledge.
     "But it's empty now?" Mitch asked.
     "Empty and in ruins, it was abandoned 100 years ago.  They just gave up on the place because
it was evil.  Even the church had been desanctified."
     Karra stirred at the mention of the church.  "That's where he is!" she exclaimed.  "Let's go!"
     Evan shook his head.  "Not this second, Karra," he warned.  "The place is probably heavily
warded if Donovan's got the powers Ray seems to think he has.  I'm not going anywhere near bad
magic without some preparation--and we're going to have to call in the expert whether you like
him
or not."
     "We also don't go anywhere without Gideon," Josh said.  His colour was a little better today,
Karra noted, whatever Pandora had done had worked. She still decided to give him a crystal, if he
wanted one and Gideon okayed it.
     "Or without consulting with Michael and the others," Mitch added.  

     "And without knowing precisely what Evan means by "down the coast a piece"," Joshua said,
studying the protector closely.  "That could mean anything from the next village south on the I-90
to Key West."
     "It's not in Maine," Evan admitted.  "It's in South Carolina."
     "South Carolina," Karra repeated.  "That's more than 'down the coast a ways'!"
     "Distance is relative," Evan said smugly.  "You just need the right magic."
     "A broomstick?" Mitch asked, and got hit with a swiftly-thrown piece of balled-up toast. 
Smoke
promptly pounced upon and ate this goody.
     "An airline ticket for Charleston," Josh supplied.  "The magic of American Express."
     It was evident that they were teasing Evan, but Karra wasn't in on the joke and just smiled
blankly.
     "We have a way of getting there quickly," Evan explained, seeing her expression, "and it
doesn't
involve broomsticks, airlines, credit cards or any type of magic that's against the basic rules--well,
I can't really testify to that latter, since I don't know much about magic, but it's never come back
threefold on us, and that's good enough for me."
     Karra's brow wrinkled as she thought of what she had already seen in this strange
melange--powerful anti-trespassing wards, a vampire, a werewolf, an antagonistic mage with a
faint
taint of black magic to him, an ancient Archdruid, a Bard,  a Healer, an Enhancer, and whatever it
was that Evan (and Garrick and Layna) was.  Oh, and a daemonic horse and a telepathic panther. 
The basic rules seemed to have already been broken beyond repair on the Cliff Road.
     "You'll see," Josh said with a smile.
     "I'd better call Ray," Evan said.  "He'll need to know the exact details of your dream, Karra, so
be prepared to have to talk to him."

     She sighed, but acknowledged the necessity of having a long chat with the local sorcerer. 
When
Ray arrived at Oakwoods later, driving his restored vintage Norton motorcycle, Karra was
mentally
ready for him to be rude.  He surprised her by being very business-like -- brusque, perhaps, but
he'd dropped the confrontational attitude.
     Still dressed in black (it was a hot debate in the Brotherhood as to whether Ray actually
owned
any other clothes than a black shirt and black jeans), the ex-sorcerer, and current mage and Prince
of Amber (though just whose son he was was still in question) faced Karra, his cold blue eyes
regarding her thoughtfully.  He almost even smiled, but it didn't quite make it.
     "We got off on the wrong foot," he said gruffly.  "I don't like having my wards tampered with. 
Where would you like to talk?"
     Karra suggested the parlour, Evan showed them the way, supplied them with food and drink,
and left them to it.  Ray sipped at his tea and began.
     He took her over and over the sequence of her dreams, occasionally writing something down,
and grilling her mercilessly on the tiniest details she could remember.  He was especially interested
in knowing if she'd seen any outward trappings of magic--any runes, books, ingredients of spells,
ley lines... and questioned her several times on the same thing.  Karra was ready to scream, but
her training from Malakai finally stood her in good stead--she knew how vital this information
was. 

     Ray was finally satisfied with Karra's accounts and pushed aside his cold tea and
closely-written
notes with a nod.  He proceeded to grill her on her training and studies, throwing one or two
unexpected magical tests at her, to see how she thought on her feet.  When one of these
call-and-respond parries nearly set the parlour on fire (quickly and effectively quenched and
cleaned up), he called a halt.

     "We could go outside if you really want to test me," Karra suggested nervously--it was
obvious
that he outclassed her by several degrees magically.  He had used his powers to kill--the blood
taint
could be seen in his weavings, though it was faint and in the distant past.  
     "That won't be necessary," he replied.  "I just want to make sure you can hold your own
against
Donovan, at least momentarily.  He might catch you unprotected."
     "Gramps was much more trained than I am, and Donovan killed him," Karra said, studying the
picture over the fireplace.  It was a portrait of Gideon as a very young, still-living man, she
realized. 
The long hair and Puritan clothing had made her a bit puzzled about the sitter's identity... 
     "Malakai got careless," Ray dismissed this argument.  "It happens to the best of us at times. 
I've
killed better mages than I am, although that was before I ..." he shrugged, suddenly aware that he
could not talk about Amber to this virtual stranger.  About Jenny and the newfound hope that
beat
quietly in his turmoiled heart.  About the Family, the Court, the Pattern, the Trumps... he knew he
was handling the cards and felt Karra's eyes on them, so he put them back in his pocket. All he
needed to completely throw this girl was to accidentally Trump to Amber or call Jenny here.
     Karra was startled by his casual reference to killing, but let it pass. Obviously, he felt no
remorse
but also considered such doings a part of his past.  Just as long as he no longer used magic to kill,
and he obviously didn't, he was acceptable company.  Sort of.
     A knock on the parlour door made them both start slightly, and Karra laughed a second later. 
They'd both been so involved in the undercurrents of their conversation that they'd forgotten that
there were other people in the household.  And apparently, the entire afternoon had passed while
they'd been talking, for it was the Lord of the Manor himself who entered the room.
     "Is everything all right?" Gideon asked softly, looking at them both in concern.  "Evan told me
you were in here."
     Karra couldn't resist comparing Gideon, with his short hair, crisp white dress shirt, navy blue
blazer and grey pants with edges so sharply creased that they could draw blood, to the portrait of
himself as a living teenager.  He had the same lost, wistful expression in his eyes now as he'd had
then, she noted.  He really didn't look that much older, either, and she then realized that the
portrait
must have been painted no more than a year before he'd been turned.  Her quiet, vampiric host
was a teenager preserved forever.
    A voice in the very depths of Karra's mind (or heart or soul) whispered "No living creature..."
but
did not explain.  She paid no heed at the time, but the idea was planted, ready to germinate when
needed.
     "We're fine," Karra assured the Baron with a smile that revealed none of her misgivings.  
     He cocked an eyebrow at Ray, who nodded laconically.  "You can see for yourself that I
haven't
eaten her or turned her into a toad, Gideon," he said with rough humour.  "We've been talking
shop."
     "Well, it's time for dinner," the Baron said.  "Ray, you're more than welcome to stay, there's
plenty of food.  As long as Evan lets someone else get a chance at it."
     "Thank you," said the ex-sorcerer.  Once he would have looked startled to be included, but
now
he accepted it without comment.
     Karra was perversely glad that Ray had accepted the invitation.  It made him seem more
human,
less frightening, and besides, he looked like he didn't get enough to eat.  She had no way of
knowing that most members of the Brotherhood thought the same about the sparely-built mage
and
kept trying to feed him up.

     When dinner was over and the clearing away taken care of, there was another talk session in
the living room. Karra wondered who the winsome blond youth was whose portrait hung over the
fireplace in this room, but was too polite to ask.  No one else gave the picture a second glance.

     Pumpkin cuddled in her lap, Karra once again found herself giving details of her dream to a
wider audience.  They didn't grill her quite as mercilessly as Ray had, she was relieved to find.
Evan
wanted to know what the road had been like, he was worried about driving the limo into
unpassable
territory.
     "It's not a Land Rover," he grinned.
     "I still don't see how you can get a limo from Maine to South Carolina in a day," Karra replied.
     "Not a day.  An hour or two, tops.  If we can find the exact co-ordinates.  Otherwise, I'll aim
for
just outside Georgetown and hope for the best."  He caught her look and grinned.  "It's magic,
just
accept it."
     "What if you touch down in the middle of a building, or there's a kid playing on the road?"
     "The limo's sensors take care of that.  We haven't had an accident yet."
     Karra sighed, and decided to just accept it.  Sound advice, she figured.  She wished Gramps
was with her.
     It was quickly decided who would go on the trip--Gideon, Evan, Ray, Mitch and Karra.  A
small,
fast-moving group would have the best chance of success, and too many people complicated
things.  Michael, Pandora, Nicholas and Maggie would stand by at Oakwoods, and Evan could
come and get them with the car if they were needed.
     It was still a few hours until dawn. A time for sleeping. But Karra was still wound up from all
the
talk about Donovan and the plans that had been made earlier in the night. Albeit, they were rather
tentative plans, but at least they had a general idea of what they wanted to do when they arrived
at Sanction Crossroads.
     Gideon and Joshua were spending some time together before they had to be apart the next
night. She didn't think Joshua was crazy about Gideon doing this, and she felt awkward asking
him
now that she knew a little more about the situation between them. Something told her though,
that
Gideon would be a very important part of rescuing her father.
     The others had returned to their respective homes and Evan was doing whatever it was Evan
did before retiring. Even Mitch had gone to bed with the animals trailing along. It had been a long
day for all of them. Pulling her nightgown over her head, she decided she might as well try to get
some much needed rest. 

>>> "Come speak with me, Karra. I'll not hurt you child. I only want to tell you some truths you
must
know."
     The voice was soft, yet insistent. She knew it wasn't her father and was reluctant to answer.
There was something dark about this voice she didn't like.
     "Come now. Don't be afraid."
     Karra was soon standing in a dimly lit room. Two chairs sat angled in front of a blazing fire
place.
Feeling the chill of the room behind her, she was drawn to the warmth the flames promised.
     "I'm glad you came, Karra," the voice said.
     As she stopped, a white haired man rose from the chair on her left. Slight in build, he was
perhaps 2-3 inches taller than herself. Though slim, she could detect the wiry strength that lay
behind his stature.
     "Donovan," she muttered, taking a step back.
     "I promised not to harm you if you came to see me," he assured her. "Please sit down. We
need
to talk."
     Hesitating a moment, she decided to take a chance. Had he intended on attacking her, surely
he would've done so by now. Especially since she hadn't even recognized his presence in this
place - he could have easily trapped her here.

     "What do you want, Donovan?"
     "To tell you some truths about your past that no one else has shared with you."
     "And why should I believe you?" she asked bluntly.
     "I will show you proof of my words as I speak."
     She consented to listen, wondering while she did so if she'd lost her mind. He handed her a
well
worn journal and urged her to look through it as he began his tale.
     "Long ago, I was a young sorcerer, not much older than you are now. I fell in love with a
beautiful
psychic. Her name was Brianna. A daughter was born of this union. And though she was perfect
in every way, I often longed for my wife. This loneliness caused a serious rift between my
daughter
and myself. One that was never repaired before she died."
     As he spoke, Karra skimmed through the pages of Brianna's journal. When he paused, she
glanced up, curious as to why he was telling her all this.
     "My daughter," he said, looking Karra directly in the eyes, "was named Morganna. She was
your
mother child."
     "No!" Karra whispered in denial. "No! You lie! You're _not_ my grandfather!"
     Angrily, Karra threw the journal at him and rose from the chair.
     "Wait!" Donovan insisted, grabbing her wrist and gently pressing her back into the chair.
     "Your father took Morganna from me, child. That is why I have fought your family for so
many
years. They stole her away before I could make amends. Then they kept me from her child. My
only
grandchild. You."
     His eyes were pleading her understanding. Her belief. Karra sat silent, not wanting to hear
anymore. Not wanting to acknowledge that somewhere deep inside she was beginning to believe
him.
     "You are my grandchild as well, Karra. They turned you against me without ever giving you a
chance to decide for yourself. That is what I offer you now. The opportunity to know your full
self!"
     He held out his hand and a small amulet appeared. He urged Karra to look closely within it and
she would see the truth. What she saw was the essence of her mother, a near mirror image of
herself. She watched as a tearful Morganna gently laid the talisman aside and walked away.
     Shaking her head, she wanted to deny what she'd seen and heard. None of it made any sense.
Why hadn't someone told her?
     "They didn't want you to know," Donovan said convincingly. "Take it, child. It's yours now
that
she's gone. Leave the past, and come home."
     As her fingers closed around her mother's pendant, her other hand reached for Malakai's. Then
something stopped her from switching them. Perhaps it was the look of satisfaction on Donovan's
face, or just a slight warning from her instincts. Whatever it was, it made her question what she
was
about to do.
     "Why do you hesitate?" he frowned. "It's time to come home, Karra."
     "No. I can't do this. Not now," she whispered, almost to herself. "You're lying about
something.
Maybe everything. I won't take it!"
     She tossed the amulet toward the fire and bolted from her chair as Donovan released her to
rescue the talisman.
     "Come back here!" he shouted. "You can't fight the truth, Karra! You can't fight your own
blood!"
<<<

     "Stop it!" Karra muttered as she woke up with Donovan's final words still ringing in her ears.


     Unable to sit still, she threw back the covers and stood up. For lack of anything else to do, she
was soon pacing the floor of the Rose Room. She knew what he'd told her in the dream was the
truth yet she was unwilling to accept it.
     What disturbed her most was that no one had told her until now. She knew Donovan hadn't
confided in her out of kindness - she wasn't that innocent - but still, he'd told her. And by telling
her,
he'd given her two choices; she either had a reason _not_ to see him die, or she had a weapon to
use against him. A dangerous, but deadly weapon - for one of them.
     She believed emphatically in Malakai's teachings and what his magic stood for. But a question
of trust had been inserted into the game now. Gramps and the others had hidden things from her
all her life. What else might they be hiding - and why?
     Karra knew she'd have to tell the others, though stars know, she didn't want to. Before this
dream, she'd known exactly what needed to be done. But now - she was very confused - and
angry. At this point, she didn't even know for sure who to trust.
     Karra couldn't take the quiet solitude of the Rose Room any longer.  The forever unfurled pink
buds seemed to taunt her with their sweetness.  This room was no place for the remnants of such
a dream.
     Perhaps it had only been a dream?  But the heat of Donovan's fire still flushed her cheeks, the
ring of his words haunted her ears.  She had dreamt true.  Again.  Was there no way to just turn
that off?  Perhaps if she talked to Michael again...
     She yanked on a dressing gown and fled from the confines of her bower. Evan was probably
still awake; even his constant munching and barely-restrained lust were better company than her
own turmoiled thoughts.  She would not have dared to disturb the master of the house in his
bedroom, though surely he was waking; an inner sense told Karra it was still dark outside. 
Certainly
there were no windows in this part of the house to help her confirm that impression...

     "Child," the soft English voice made her jump, "is anything wrong?"
     Heart stammering, Karra turned, wishing that the inhabitants of Oakwoods would get out of
the
habit of sneaking up on a person like that.  She beheld Baron Gideon Redoak, he who was no
retired Southern gentleman sipping mint juleps on his front porch.  He was wearing a very
expensive brocade velvet robe over silk pajamas and what were termed "wicked good" suede
moccasin-slippers on his feet.  Undoubtedly the robe and slippers had been gifts, they had that
indefinable ghost of Christmas present look to them.
     Besides, Gideon just didn't seem the suede moccasin type.
     "Why," Karra asked plaintively, "does everyone keep calling me 'Child'?"
     "My apologies," Gideon bowed.  "But I do not retract the question itself.  Why are you up?"
     "I had another dream," she said, and shivered.
     He looked at her, considering.  "Come into my study," he said finally, a bit reluctantly. "Tell
me
about it."
     She followed him, not sure she should tell him what the dream had revealed.  Would he throw
her out of the house, refuse to help her?  Had Malakai told his old friend what he had not told his
own granddaughter?
     She stepped into the study, unaware of how utterly unusual such an invitation was.  Gideon
ushered her into a comfy chair and poured her some brandy, not neglecting his own dollop.  He
noticed her incredulous glance at the warm amber liquid confined in the wide-bodied glass in his 
hand.
     "What?" he asked gently, that hint of a twinkle in his eyes again.

     "I thought you only drank blood," she blurted out, since she had not yet seen Gideon partake
of
any refreshment in the house.
     He smiled.  "My dear, your conceptions of my kind are probably mostly wrong.  Now, tell me
about your dream."
     Uncomfortable, Karra squirmed around in the padding on the chair and eyed the study.  It was
standard-looking office-type room, except that the desk was a gorgeous carved mahogany
antique,
on which the blinking, very modern computer looked like an alien spacecraft.  File folders, plants
(the acacia tree had been replaced), stacks of papers, a fax modem, two phones and knick-knacks
vied for space on the desk.  Filing cabinets took up floor space as did two extra chairs.  A few
paintings hung on the wall, and Karra felt her face go red when she realized that the content of at
least half of these was homoerotic in nature.  These paintings--one of the few indulgences to his
preference the Baron allowed himself--were the reason why so few outsiders were invited into this
room.
     "Karra?" Gideon was looking at her levelly, knowing that she had seen the paintings.   "Does
the
room make you uncomfortable?  We could move to the library, or downstairs..."
     "No, it's fine," she assured him, and wondered if Malakai had ever been into this sanctum.  She
sipped her brandy, steadied her nerves, and told the Baron her dream.
     Gideon listened to her gravely, watching her facial expressions. His own never changed, giving
away nothing of what he thought or felt.  "So," he said, when she had ground to an uncertain,
trailing finish to her narrative, "you are Donovan's grandchild as well as Malakai's.  Quite a
heritage,
my dear."
     "You aren't... you don't..."
     "You can no more help your ancestry than anyone else can, my dear Karra. No-one in the
Brotherhood is in any position to cast stones.  The only thing that causes me concern is that we
may be placing you in terrible danger by allowing you to come with us tomorrow night."  He
glanced
at the mounted wall clock, a Seth Thomas.  "Tonight, rather," he corrected himself wryly.
     "I want to come," said Karra.  "Lucas is my father, I should help rescue him."
     "I hope you find that he is worth the effort, Karra."  The vampire's eyes met hers, there was
now
no twinkle at all in them.  Only a depthless pain.
     "So do I, Gideon.  But it is my duty, and I _need_ to find him.  Now more than ever. 
Donovan
could have been lying."
     "Best go back to bed, then, my dear, so that you are well-rested.  Pandora has left us a large
amount of herbal tea, would you like one to make you sleep...?"
     "No, I think I'll be all right now.  Good night, Gideon.  I'll see you tomorrow... er, tonight."
     He inclined his head and saw her to the door of the Rose Room.  "Karra," he said, just as she
had her hand on the knob.
     "What?"
     "Donovan _could_ have been lying... but you know that he wasn't."
     With that, the vampire turned and went back down the hall to the master bedroom.

                               ***
     "Be careful."  A hand pressed into Gideon's, warm tremulous lips met his own.
     "It will be all right," he replied, stroking Joshua's hair, leaning against his husband's
all-too-human body.
     "Come back to me," Josh said.
     "Always."
     Josh smiled.  He looked better, Gideon noted with relief.  One night, two tops, and they'd be
together again.

     "It's all our fault," said Michael when Gideon and Joshua joined the group waiting by the limo. 
"Yours and mine, Gideon."
     "What is?" the vampire looked puzzled.
     "All this," Michael said, taking in Karra and the waiting rescue team, the limo, and the back-up
Brotherhood members.  
     The vampire and the Archdruid were standing on the steps of Oakwoods, surveying the
preparations.  Ray, in black of course, leaning against the trunk of the Caddy, was fingering his
Trumps, Evan was tinkering under the hood at the other end, Mitch was sweeping out the
passenger seats with exaggerated care, and Karra was just looking nervous.  Pandora was talking
to her earnestly, trying to get her to relax..  Maggie seemed occupied with a map of South
Carolina
and was shouting advice to Evan, which he ignored.
     "This is _our_ fault?" Gideon asked.
     "Certainly.  Don't you remember coming over last month, complaining that you were getting
too
domestic, set in your ways, and that we needed some action?  Should have remembered to be
careful what we ask for."  Michael patted his pockets, recalled that he had given up smoking just
before that very conversation, and sighed.  "Got a cigarette, Ray?" he asked hopefully.
     The ex-sorcerer looked up and smiled sardonically. "Nope, gave it up."
     "You, too?  Why?"
     "Jenny," he replied briefly.  "And Chance."
     "Love makes us do the damnedest things," Michael said.
     "You can say that again," Ray grinned. "So, are we ready to leave, or what?"
     "We're ready."  Evan slammed down the hood.  "Don't lean against the car, you'll curdle the
paint."
     "You're no great beauty, either," Ray shot back.  He looked at Karra.  "You ready for this?"
     "About as ready as I'll ever be," she answered none too confidently, almost wishing she was a
smoker so they'd have a reason to delay a few more minutes.
     As they climbed into the limo, Karra caught herself wondering just what she was getting
everyone into. Ever since discovering that Donovan was her grandfather, she'd had a bad feeling
about this whole trip. It wasn't that she didn't think she could trust Gideon and the others... It was
more like she didn't know if she could trust *herself*. 
     She had nearly taken Morganna's talisman in the dream. What would happen if Donovan put
her in the same position once they got there? Could she refuse her mother's heritage if it was
offered again? And what would the outcome be if she accepted it?
     Then Evan's voice broke through her musing, "Everyone buckled in?"
     Karra glanced up from her seat belt just in time to catch Ray looking at her with an odd
expression on his face. He hadn't had much to say when the contents of her dream had been
disclosed earlier and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Before she could ask, he
looked away and Evan announced that it was time to go.

     A bit of magic and a couple of hours later, the limo arrived safely just outside of Sanction
Crossroads. A lonely stretch of rutted, abandoned road, overgrown with beach grass was all that
was left of the crossroad itself.  Dunes and live oaks, some of them draped with eerie Spanish
moss, obscured the ocean and the ruins of the town from immediate view.  Evan cut the engine of
the limo.  The small group stepped out of the car to stretch and were tempted to get right back in.
Even the air felt tainted here.
     "Something doesn't feel right," Evan remarked, echoing Karra's thoughts.

     "What's there to 'feel right' in a place like this?" Mitch questioned, shaking his head.  His eyes
were amber, his hackles raised... he was ready to go wolf just from the feel of the place.
     A lone seabird wheeled overhead, crying hungrily in the still air.
     "He's right," Ray said softly. "Something's wrong. Something..."
     "He knows we're here," Karra interrupted. "I don't know how, but he's been waiting for us."
     "Where is he?" Gideon asked, knowing somehow that she was right, but unable to sense
anyone nearby.
     "Too close," Karra, and Ray said as one.
     Before they could even prepare themselves, several of Donovan's people appeared out of the
trees. Surrounding the limo and its passengers, they were more than ready to do battle. By  the
looks of the weapons they carried on their belts, it didn't matter if the fight was to be magical or
physical.
     Ray and Karra positioned themselves between the unwanted visitors and their non-magical
friends. The other three would come in handy if this became a physical confrontation, but for now
they needed protection from whatever might come.
     Mitch bared his teeth and hunched, prepared to fully go were--a trick he had learned to master
under Lady Spirit Wolf's tutelage, but Evan restrained him.  
     "Keep it magical," the protector advised softly.  "For now."
     "They're outnumbered," growled the lycanthrope, but subsided.
     The half dozen Destroyers chose not to fool around with their attack. It was quick and
powerful,
each of them alternating the waves of energy that surged toward the limo, keeping up a  steady
pace. Almost as if they were testing the limits of those that had intruded on Donovan's territory.
     Blue and green sparks flew, magic danced in the air, sending the seabird squawking and
blasting the moss right off a few innocent trees.  The Sanction crossroads sign, half-buried by the
side of the old road, rose up vertically and spun on its axis.  Ray's face conveyed the strain that he
found fending off so many opponents, even for someone of his strength.  
     Suddenly their tactic changed and three of them teamed up with a single concentrated surge
directed at Ray. His back was to them, as he was concentrating on their apparent leader, and he
didn't even sense it coming until it was too late. Karra, however did see it. Not in time to stop it,
but
soon enough to gain an advantage over two of them.
     Kneeling down, she placed her hands flat on the ground and sent two waves of blue fire racing
through the earth. As her two targets went up in flames, the third attempted to jump into  their
circle.
Mitch, gone furry, pounced on him, while Evan and Gideon held off the others. Placing her hands
once more on the ground, Karra eyed two of the remaining Destroyers. Not knowing how badly
Ray
was injured, she didn't see much other choice.
     As the fire blazed toward the two, one of them managed to block it while the other burned.
The
remaining two apparently decided they'd had enough and escaped before anyone could stop them.
     "They aren't worth it Evan," Gideon said as his protector started after them. "We need you
here."

     "Where did it strike?" Karra was asking Ray as she knelt beside him.
     "I'm fine," he grumbled as he tried to force himself to his feet. 
     "Sit still!" Karra demanded. "Tell me where!"
     Shocked by her tone of voice, Ray indicated his left shoulder and stayed where he was. Karra
brushed her right hand over the area he'd pointed out until she found the spot she wanted. She
lightly grasped his shoulder, then laid her left hand on her knees. As she concentrated, Ray felt the
pain in his arm and upper body gradually receding.

     The others watched in silence as a ball of silver light began forming in Karra's open palm.
When
she was satisfied that she had drawn out all of the magic she could, she turned away from Ray and
wrapped both hands around the glowing orb. As she spoke words that her patient didn't
understand, the ball began to change shape.
     Within moments, a full grown falcon was fighting its way free of her grasp. As it soared high
into
the midnight sky, she turned back to Ray.
     "Does it still hurt?"
     "No," he told her. "How did you do that?"
     "Magic," she grinned, as the falcon landed next to Ray. "He'll be your friend if you like."
     "Mine? Why? You made him..."
     "He came from you. Your blood and pain created him... I only helped."
     The falcon screamed at the large, glowing silver wolf that was studying it curiously.  Evan
touched the furry creature gently, and it laid its ears back.
     "Gaylord," he said softly, "come back to us."
     There was a horrible noise, as if of flesh being turned inside out, and the wolf wrenched itself
back into a human.  Karra found she couldn't watch, it was too painful.  No wonder Mitch was
sick
every full moon, and locked himself up rather than make others submit to watch him in such
agony.
     "It's getting better," he panted up at her as he lay in the long beach grass.  "At least I
remembered to leave my pants on."  He raised his head and stared ruefully down at the torn
remnants of his jeans.  "Sort of."
     "You look just like Francis in those," Ray said, "but it's not your style."  He concentrated,
drawing
on his magic, and a few minutes later, Mitch's jeans were rewoven into a whole and he had a shirt
and shoes on, too.  "A gift from Amber," Ray explained, as Mitch looked incredulously at the
Renaissance-style cambric shirt and the high leather boots.  
     "Um, thanks."  Mitch grinned feebly.  "The compleat werewolf."
     "Oh, sorry, forgot."  A woven tapestry vest, with a subtle pattern of wolf's head peering from
the
forest, suddenly appeared over the full-sleeved shirt.
     "You'd be really handy at Hallowe'en."  Mitch eyed his new outfit, then stared at the sorcerer. 
"Nice bird."
     "He is made from my pain and blood," Ray said, stroking the falcon's feathers.  "I shall have to
think of a name for him."

     "Folks, shouldn't we be moving on to Sanction Crossroads?" Evan asked.  "I hate to break up
this little party, but..."
     "The darkness will not last forever," Gideon agreed.  "And Donovan already knows we are
here,
and has doubtless laid other traps for us."
     "I don't dare take the limo any further," Evan said.  "We'll have to walk in.  Karra, which
way?" 
     The sign had been demolished in the magical battle, and the town lay hidden in the dunes and
trees.  Karra hesitated, then her dream whispered to her.  "That way," she pointed to the east.
     They set off down the road, Evan and Ray in front, Karra in the middle, and Gideon and Mitch
bringing up the rear.  This way, they were prepared for whatever they met--they hoped.
     The five rescuers proceeded cautiously along what could scarcely be considered a roadway
anymore. Their footfalls and an occasional shriek from the falcon circling above were the only
sounds. Alert for any changes, or signs of ambush, they were somewhat surprised when the old
church came into view without further interference from Donovan or his people.
     "What is he up to?" Ray muttered as they stopped on a short rise about a hundred feet from
the
old building.

     "He's inside," Karra said. "And he isn't alone."
     "No wards," Ray explained to the others. "He's not even trying to keep us out."
     "A trap then?" Evan asked needlessly.
     "If you were in his position, what would you do?" Gideon remarked quietly, answering the
question with one of his own.
     "What now?" Mitch growled looking at Ray and Karra. "Do we just walk in, or what?"
     Everyone deliberated Mitch's question a moment while they watched the church for signs of
life.
Donovan could lure them in and unless they took him quick, he could trap them _inside_ his 
wards.
Undoubtedly they could eventually break through the barriers, but they had Gideon to consider -
and time was not on their side.
     "Gideon, you're the one at greatest risk if something goes wrong and we're stuck inside longer
than we intend on," Ray told the vampire bluntly. "Donovan could pull something and trap us
until 
after dawn. We might not be able to prevent it."
     "Then I suggest we get started," he answered. "The more time we have, the less likely he'll be
able to do anything like that. Malakai would do the same for me were the situations reversed."
     Without further conversation, they boldly walked up to the entrance of the church. 

     The falcon flew screaming at Ray's face and he instinctively backed up.
     "I thought you said he was my friend," the puzzled mage said to Karra.
     "He must sense something we can't," Karra said, gazing at the falcon. 
     "The very fact that there aren't any wards has me worried," Ray admitted.  "What was it your
father said in your dream again?"
     "That Donovan has made a barrier.. that no... living creature... can cross..." she said, very
slowly.
     All eyes turned on Gideon, which he acknowledged with a nod.  "I see," he said, squaring
his shoulders.  He was wearing a dark sweater and slacks, making him look oddly vulnerable in
the
thin moonlight.  The shadow of a live oak was cast across his face, hiding whatever expression
might have been there.
     "Gideon, I didn't mean..." Karra began.
     "It's all right," he assured her with that gentle way of his.  "I am well aware of what I am." 
His dry humour was strained.  "Malakai was a good friend.  I am doing this as much for him as for
you."
     "Take this."  Evan pressed a revolver into Gideon's hand, and the vampire grinned briefly
as he recognized the weapon.
     "Callahan would love this," he remarked.
     "Be careful, boss," Mitch said, emotion roughening his voice as much as his half-wolf state
was.  "Josh will kill us all if anything happens to you."
     "I've been in danger before, Mitch."  Gideon smiled at his young employee.  "Josh
understands."
     'Does he?' Karra wondered, but said nothing.
     Without further ado, the vampire stepped into the ruined church.
     Entering holy ground had never, contrary to folklore, been a problem for this particular
vampire.  And this desecrated church had long since ceased to be holy ground.  Of any sort.  The
use it was being put to now was, in fact, the antithesis of "holy".
     Nor was it a "home".  Perhaps, by the loosest of definition, it was a "dwelling place", but what
dwelt there did not have a strong claim on the building.  Not enough of one to bar Gideon from
entering.  He needed no invitation to cross this threshold.

     Still, he hesitated.  He had no idea of what waited for him in Sanction Crossroads, and he
didn't much like that feeling.  He hadn't enjoyed any of his previous entanglements with the Dark
Path.  A practitioner of black magic had come very, very close to killing him.  Twice.  The True
Death mightn't have been unwelcome a few years ago, but now he was married.  He had a
responsibility to come home safely.
     He also had a responsibility to see this through; to rescue Malakai's son.
     He had to stop making friends with mages, he thought; and could almost hear Tremayne's
ironic chuckle.  Gideon suddenly, deeply, missed his old friend; and wasn't sure if it was Malakai
or Tremayne he missed.  At least he had an off chance of seeing the latter again. If he made it out 
of here.  It was the first time that the reality of Malakai's death hit him, and now was not the time
to
mourn.
     In order to make it out, though, he had to make it in before the sunrise caught him
wool-gathering.  There was not much time.  He pulled himself together and stepped into the
church.
     Excellent night-vision is a necessary 'gift' given to vampires.  A mortal would have stumbled
in the profound darkness of the abandoned church, for the weak moonlight could not penetrate its
evil secrets.  A mortal would not have seen the trip wires of deadly traps.
     These were only a hint of what lay deeper in the unholy chapel.  Gideon avoided each trap
carefully, disarming them so that the others could follow if need be.  He moved further in with the
stealth of a woodsman.
     The mantraps were teasers, set to keep out the truly unwary.  Donovan had deeper,
deadlier traps for those who passed the first barrier.
     Gideon felt the tingle of magic on his face and hands as he crossed another doorway in the
church; felt it bounce off harmlessly from his undead skin.  If he'd still been human, or a mortal
magician like Ray or Karra, he'd have been fried.  The magic hadn't been attuned to the undead.
     Two of Donovan's minions, waiting on the other side, were stunned by the failure of their
master's magic but worked up the nerve to attack the intruder physically.  Neither of them had a
sharp wooden stake or silver weapons.  Neither was a match for an angry 374-year-old vampire.
Gideon didn't even bother to pull out the revolver Evan had handed him as both men jumped him.
He simply snapped the neck of the first one he grabbed and dropped him contemptuously to the
floor.  When the second one attempted to grab his legs to bring him down, Gideon brought his
hands down and broke the man's back.  He'd fought their kind too often to show any mercy other
than a quick death.
     Another room conquered, and no opposition other than the two dead villains.  There were
no more traps, and no more attackers.  No one had been supposed to be able to get this far.
     Exploring further, Gideon found what he was seeking.  Lucas was entrapped by a web of
powerful magic in what had been the church sacristy.  No trace remained of that room's original
benign function.  It was now a grim prison.
     Gideon paused, uncertain that even he would be immune to the spells that kept Malakai's
son in chains of magic.  The taint of evil was palpable, a noisome effluvia that made the vampire
wrinkle his nose.  It was a scent he knew, and it had never boded well.
     On the other side of the weaving of evil power, a man half-lay on the floor.  His head and
emaciated shoulders were propped against the splintering wall, but the rest of his ravaged body
was supine.  Yet there was more than a trace of strength and dignity in his eyes as he managed
to lift them up to Gideon.

     "Lucas," said the vampire sadly.  He had met this man before, but as a sleepy little boy
carried off to bed on his father's shoulder.  "You won't remember me."

     Malakai's son stirred and croaked, "Gideon Redoak."
     "So that's who you are," said Donovan.
     The vampire didn't jump.  He'd been aware of the sorcerer's presence, but had ignored it.
Lucas was too used to being tormented by Donovan to react at all.
     "You got past all my traps and killed two of my people," Donovan said.  "No living creature
could have done that."
     "I'm not," Gideon bared his fangs, "a living creature."
     The mage backed up a few paces, startlement plain in his expression."What business have
you here, undead filth?" he cried out.
     "'Filth'?" Gideon raised an eyebrow.  "Malakai was a friend.  You killed him.  I've come for
his son."
     "The undead have no business with me.  Lucas is mine to do with as I please.  As his
daughter will be."
     "No!" Lucas struggled.  "Leave her alone."
     "She's my grandchild, too."  Donovan spat at his prisoner, but the spume died sizzling trying
to pass the web of magic.  He turned again to Gideon.  "Leave."  It was a command.
     The vampire stood rock-still, unmoved and unaffected.  "Release him."
     Two powerful minds met and clashed, neither giving way.  The sorcerer's web met the
vampire's steel, and neither yielded.  A blue flame crept up the walls of the church, the overflow
of
the clash of wills.  It left no ashes in its wake and consumed no wood, but Lucas watched it
fearfully
all the same.
     Donovan made the first physical move, throwing a handful of dirt into Gideon's glowing red
eyes, to shut out that hypnotic vampire gaze.  The Baron cried out, putting his fingers to his
vulnerable eyes, and Donovan grabbed for the butt of the revolver he saw tucked into Gideon's 
waistband.
     Something, perhaps even a faint whisper from the spirit of Callahan, warned Gideon of
Donovan's intent.  Even though momentarily blinded, he evaded the groping hand and scooped
up the weapon himself, bringing the butt of it hard down on Donovan's extended shoulder.  The
mage howled with pain and backed off long enough for Gideon to blink away the painful dirt.
     He did not dare to actually fire the gun, since a stray bullet might kill Lucas.  He put it away
more securely, doubtful that its charge would kill so evil a thing as Donovan, anyway.
     The sorcerer, now favouring his right shoulder, lunged again for the gun, though how he
thought bullets would stop a vampire wasn't clear even to him.  It was the only weapon to hand,
and
his magic had already proven useless.  He knew he wasn't physically strong enough to overcome
this powerful nosferatu.  A bullet might at least slow the damned thing down.
     Gideon simply let Donovan get close, then seized him in an unescapable embrace.  The
mage's medallion banged against the vampire's chest, and Gideon tore it off in an unthinking rage.
     "Malakai was my friend," he said, and chomped down on the vein in Donovan's neck.
     But he quickly spat out the blood.  It was tainted with it's owner's foul scent.  He let the life
force bubble out of Donovan's neck, watching pitilessly as the sorcerer began to die.
     "No," Donovan gasped.  "Kill me and Lucas will never go free.  Only I can release the
barrier."
     "You're right," Gideon agreed amiably, and lifted the dying, bleeding man over his head. 
He casually tossed the mage right into the dark weaving of black magic that kept Lucas a
prisoner.
     Donovan's scream was cut off short on earth, but went on a very long time on his trip to hell.


     Gideon calmly stepped over the smoking corpse, since Donovan's death had released the
magic that held the cause of it in place.  The vampire felt no regret at all for the three deaths he
had
caused in this place. Payment for Malakai.  For what had been done to his son.
     Lucas was a featherweight in Gideon's arms, and the vampire was stirred to pity by the state
the man was in.  He was more than half-dead... even if they could get him home to Pandora in
time,
it was doubtful if she could do anything to help.  He'd simply been abused and kept prisoner too
long, only the dream of his daughter keeping him alive.  Gideon carried him out to her.
     What father and daughter had to say to each other must remain their business.  Karra came
away in tears.  Evan carried Lucas to the limo, and Karra held her father on the trip home.  By
that
time, his spirit was at long last in rest, and he was completely free of Sanction Crossroads.

     When they reached Oakwoods, it was only too evident to the waiting members of the
Brotherhood what had happened.  There was a lot of embracing, and many tears.  Pandora
enfolded Karra into her arms.  Michael questioned Ray closely about the events, especially about
the falcon that circled the mage and watched everything with a keen eye.  When he heard the
story,
the Archdruid insisted on examining Ray's shoulder then and there, and pronounced himself
satisfied with the healing.
     Joshua held Gideon tightly when he heard about the fight in the church, and searched his
husband's eyes to see if they were okay.  Pandora, who'd put Karra to bed with lots of tea and
comfort, heard about the dirt and produced an eye bath more or less on the spot.  Gideon
squirmed
more for this treatment than he had for the original dirt.
     The wounded in heart as well as body having been tended to, there remained the dead. 
They covered Lucas' emaciated corpse with a blanket, but left it in the limo.  It was Karra's
decision
as to what to do with her father's remains.
     When Karra, the next evening, was faced with this question, no one was surprised when she
said she wanted to take her father's body home to the Woodlands and bury it in the forest.  He
had
been unable to return home while he still lived--at least he could have his final rest there.  The 
woodland sprites would guard his body.  It was also the only home Karra now had, though she
was
uncertain what or who waited for her there.
     Malakai was dead.  Lucas, Morganna... father, mother, grandfather... both grandfathers...
Layna, her care giver and dear companion... all dead.  Garrick... there, she dared to hope.  A little. 
She didn't _know_ that Garrick was dead.  He hadn't looked healthy when she'd left him, but it
took
a _lot_ to kill a Nameless.  It had taken a lot to kill Layna, but she wouldn't dwell on that.
     She asked all of her new friends to come with her, to be there when she buried her past and
looked towards an uncertain future.
     So it was that most of the Brotherhood traveled to the Woodlands. For Gideon, it was an
especially melancholy trip.  The last time he'd been here, Malakai had been alive.  Now he had to
say goodbye to yet another old friend.  And to the son of that friend.

     Little was said during their short, magical journey to the Woodlands. They arrived at the foot
of the long drive and the trees along the roadside seemed to bow in greeting to the visitors 
as they passed. Evan guided the limo through the great iron gates, and Karra leaned forward,
frowning.
     "What's wrong?" Pandora asked softly as she noticed Karra's sudden tension.
     "The lights," she answered, sounding confused. "I know I turned them off..."
     As the car came to a stop in front of the house, the doors opened. With a gasp of surprise,
Karra jumped from the backseat of the limo and literally flew up the steps into Garrick's waiting
arms.

     Introductions were made as the Brotherhood (and sisters) joined the two on the wide front
porch. Soon, everyone was inside and made comfortable in the living room. Garrick passed
around
drinks then sat quietly listening to their story.
     Sadness in his dark eyes, he looked to Karra, "You'll want to bury him with Malakai and
Morganna?"
     "Of course. First I have to visit the spirits and receive their blessings for the burial."
     Excusing herself from her new friends, she quickly left the house. The woodland spirits had
listened at the windows and they shared Karra's grief. She could feel their sorrow and pain in the
breeze that brushed against her face.

     She knelt at the foot of the graves she'd sought, knowing instinctively where they lay. For
surely, no one passing this way would recognize the small clearing for what it was. The earth 
protected its own and showed no sign of the burials.
     Her eyes closed, her mind and body aware, she listened to the feathery voices of the past.
Her mother and grandfather soon let it be known that they were ready to tend to Lucas' body and
would await his spirit to join them. The gentle wind scattered the fallen leaves, clearing a space
for
her father to be laid.
     Karra returned to the house, and after Garrick and Evan had retrieved Lucas' body from the
limo, she led the small procession to the clearing. Garrick gently placed the body on the ground
between Malakai and Morganna and silently stepped away.
     As the mourners watched, a golden shroud wrapped itself securely around Lucas. When
no sign of his body was left showing, the ground slowly began pulling the cocoon downward.
Within
moments, Lucas had been absorbed into the earth. The breeze again began whispering across the
grass as the leaves once more fell upon the clearing.
     The Brotherhood gathered around the graves, lost in thought, contemplating that even
"immortals" could die.  Michael looked a question at Nicholas, and the Bard nodded.  He began
to
sing an ancient lament for the dead, a pleading to the Goddess that she accept their souls.  The
others remained silent so that Nicholas' beautiful trained voice could convey their own sorrow and
hopes and fears.  The woodland sprites stopped their dance to listen. 
     Ray's falcon, which he had named Andrei, launched itself off his shoulder and flew over the
grave, calling out once to guide the soul home.
     Lucas had joined his beloved wife, his father, and the spirits that had always been with him
and guided him in life.

     Karra turned as she felt a hand lightly touch her shoulder. She looked into Gideon's sad
eyes, then at what he held in his hand.

     "This may not be the proper time to give you this, but for some reason I only now was
reminded of it," he told her as he handed her Donovan's talisman.
     Smiling softly, she nodded. "The spirits knew you had it. They're curious about how you
managed to take it from him though. You didn't tell that part where they could overhear."
     Only slightly surprised, Gideon recounted the events of his taking the amulet from Donovan
as the group walked back to the house.
     "You don't regret killing him, I hope?" Karra asked the vampire softly.
     "All deaths are to be regretted," Gideon replied.  "But this one... ah, well, who am I to be
judge, jury and executioner?  This death will not weigh heavily on my conscience, but I'm a little
concerned that I keep losing my temper."
     Joshua put a hand on his husband's shoulder.  "I'll watch it for you," he smiled.  "Don't worry
about it, Gideon, you're still hardly what I'd call a killer."
     The Baron smiled and squeezed Josh's hand, and the talk moved to other things, such as
the need to clean up Sanction Crossroads, and what to do with Malakai's papers.  

     After awhile, though, the Brotherhood decided more or less en masse that it was high time
to hie home and leave Karra and Garrick alone together. They said their goodbyes, accepted
Karra's tearful thanks and expressions of lasting friendship, and squeezed into the limo to make 
one last trip on the Imaginos Freeway (tm) to Fletcherville.  Mitch managed one last wave before
the limo blurred out of sight.