The day had started hot and muggy, but by afternoon a summer storm had swept through, and replaced the mugginess with air that was slightly cool and wet.

Down on Broad Street, just east of the heart of the city, the street lights cast a yellow pale over Franklin Park, grounds of the Franklin Conservatory. To the casual observer the conservatory was closed, just a large block of a building looming against the purple-tinted dark blue of the night sky marked here and there by a security light.

Within, however, is light, warmth, and magic. The flowers glow, the leaves shine, and the air virtually tingles with the sense of living, growing things. Tiny pink and blue sprites, so small that only their legs and wings could be easily discerned, dart among the firs of the Himalayas Room and the cacti of the Desert Room. Shubberlings, animated bushes, shuffle about tending to the myriad plants with careful, obsessive attention.

Within the Palm Room the change is even more dramatic. The antique metal window panes change from lead to gold, the stone floor becomes marble, and the plants all grow at least an additional foot. The room is crowded, but the people within have stepped straight from a faerie tale. Goat-legged satyrs, long-nosed nockers, plump boggans, blue-skinned trolls, and even the occasional limp sluagh huddle in the corners, watching the center of the room.

"Miss Tess, who's that and that, and where are they from, and LOOK AT THAT, oooops, sorry Miss Tess and could you please tell me who that is, and that?" Chely stands on her tiptoes to get a good view of the proceedings. "Why is he wearing that cloak, do you think its magic? And, do the guards really know how to use their swords or is it for show, like in England?" Chely pauses for a breathe, and gathers her courage. "Miss Tess, can me and Brighteyes,... Brighteyes and I, explore a little, I mean its safe here, there are guards and lots of people and we aren't kids ya know so would it be okay if we checked things out. We'll be careful, you betcha"

Tess smiles tolerantly, answering questions good-naturedly, though its obvious she does not enjoy being here much. She rests amongst the rich vegetation to the far left of the Baroness. A bored look in her eyes as she fingers a heart-shaped locket. "Stay out of trouble," she says, nodding to her girls. "Brighteyes, please keep close to Chely, and keep your hands to yourself," she says. A half grin crosses her pale blue lips, as she shoo's the girls off.

"Yes, Miss Teeeeessssss..." Brighteyes answers. She smiles brightly and waves as Tess walks off.

Chely smiles sweetly and nods "I won't let her get into trouble Miss Tess" Turning to Brighteyes, her smile grows even wider; "Let's see what we can find to do around here!"

"Oooooh? You said we shouldn't get into trouble..." Brighteyes says.

Keighvyn stands at attention by the doors to the hall, his penetrating gaze sweeping the hall. He looks like nothing so much as a statue carved of onyx, ivory and silver, with two sapphires for eyes. He rests one hand lightly on the pommel of his sword, his palm cupping the moonstone set there.

Seated high on a balcony looking down onto the floor sits Countess Miriam. Short and plump, she looks like nothing so much as Mother Nature holding court for the flora and fauna of her kingdom. Her chief advisors stand behind her: a bespeckled old boggan and a graybeard satyr. All three watch as petitioners come forward with the practiced interest of long time courtiers.

A grump eshu, his face wrinkled yet still handsome, moves to the center of the room and bows to the countess with exquisite formality. "Your Excellency."

She nods in return, "We welcome the scholar Iain again to our flowered halls. What splendid tales have you brought for us this time?"

Iain smiles and again bows, "You are too kind, your Excellency. It is not I who bears the tale this time, however. I beg leave to present my nephew, Jubair the Traveler, who has traveled from the Lands of the Wandering Dream to present you with a message from the Dreaming itself."

The Countess nods, "Please, let us hear his tale."

Jubair steps out from behind his uncle. A dark skinned lad with energetic, whiteless green eyes and long black hair tied back in a ponytail, he is dressed in a Bedouin robe - a shimmering purple. On his right shoulder sits a barn owl who appears a lot more relaxed than Jubair is. Jubair conceals his hands in his robes.

Chely turns to Brighteyes and whispers "Who IS that, have you seen him before?"

Brighteyes shakes her head. "Nope, but he's handsome."

Jubair bows deeply before he speaks. "Your Excellency, before I begin my tale and share my message, I need to introduce my friend and traveling companion Rajabal. He too features somewhat in my tale for you." Jubairs' voice is that of a storyteller and erstwhile traveler, but does betray a touch of nervousness about it. At the mention of his name, the barn owl on Jubair's shoulder bows.

"Let me start from the beginning. No more than a month after I reached my nineteenth year on this world, and my third year among our kind, I was awoken from my sleep by Rajabal. He had found me after I had had a fitful dream about a past life - which is a story in itself, Your Grace, but let me not divert your attentions from the tale at hand."

"Over some nights, Rajabal and myself were talking about the aforementioned dreams and other areas of interest, when he told me that I must pass on a warning to a lady called the 'Flower Countess' who resides in a place called 'Buckeyes.' Of course, given that I had no idea then who this was or where I was to go, I was confused. I spoke to my mother, and she told me where this place was, as well as the location of my uncle Iain, who has presented me to you. It was through my - "

At this point, Rajabal taps Jubair on the shoulder he is perching. "Thus be the story, young man," he says in a rounded and gentle voice. "But it for the warning that her ears are given for you. Do not fill them too much more."

Jubair looks at Rajabal for a moment, then resumes his speech. "Of course - forgive my verbosity, Your Excellency. The warning:

"You must also know that one of the Shining Host will awaken soon within your demesne, and this one must be found and aided, whatever the cost. That is the warning I was charged to give you, Your Excellency, and thus is it delivered." His words completed, Jubair bows respectfully again.

The countess frowns, an unusual look on her apple-cheeked face. "Good Owl, from whence came this warning?"

Rajabal clucked his beak, "Whoooo sent this warning, Your Excellency? The Light."

The countess sits quietly for a moment. Then, "We thank you for this warning, Jubair the Traveler. We shall need to ponder it. But," her voice rises a bit and takes on a more cheerful tone, "court should not be all fearful warnings and stuffy introductions! We have satisfied propriety; 'tis time to satisfy ourselves. The gardens are open for wandering; music, food and drink shall come. Enjoy!"

A short cheer erupts from the guests as the countess rises from her throne (and now comes to an imposing five feet) and descends the stairs, followed by her advisors. The crowd breaks up as the childlings begin to scamper and the wilders and grumps begin to flirt with politics and love.

----------------------

Ducking out from the vegetation as Childlings and younger wilders rush through the garden, Tess begins walking across the chamber toward the doors back into the gardens.

A young Boggan Childling dashes through the room in hot pursuit of a brightly shining never, and comes to a crashing halt as he trips over a walking flower's roots. As the never flits away, Tess helps the Childlings to his feet, stifling a chuckle behind her hand.

As the Boggan runs off to play with his friends, the never returns, and lands on Tess's shoulder, whispering musical bells in her ear. Tess giggles as she continues on her way. Coming up to the doorway, Tess looks to the new young knight standing straight and proud at his post.

"Come now m'lord. You look as if you just met an Autumn Person," Tess says with a grin. "Here, perhaps little Velvet here can help you relax." She whispers something to the little never, and the small creature laughs, the sound like tinkling sleigh bells. Then the exquisite little woman flits over to rest on Keighvyn's shoulder.

With a quick wave, Tess steps out into the gardens. She moves along happily listening to the talk with a easy smile for everyone.

As the never sits on his shoulder, Keighvyn's stiff stance relaxes a little bit and his expression loses a little of its severe appearance. He casts a quick glance around, and then calls after the troll, "Milady! Please... a moment."

Tess turns just as she prepares to exit the wide double doors. "M'lord?"

Keighvyn clears an errant forelock from his eyes with one hand, and gives the troll a small smile. "Thank you." A light pink flush creeps along the tips of his pointed ears as he continues. "I guess I /do/ look a little severe... my sisters have warned me about that." He bows, then, his expression brightening. "I'm Keighvyn, by the way... and you are Tess, aren't you? I've seen you at court a few times, haven't I?"

"Yes, I'm Tess," she says with a shy grin. "I come to court often, though I will admit its not my favorite activity. Duty is duty though." She glances about, never really looking at Keighvyn's face.

Tess fiddles nervously with the handle of her satchel for a moment, then continues. "You weren't really that bad, but Velvet asked me to introduce you two. I've a feeling she's trying to play match maker again." Her pale blue skin grows slightly purple as she blushes at the last statement.

Regaining her composure, the young troll says, "Well, if you'll excuse me, I've a friend to meet. If you like, when you get off duty, I will probably be in the desert annex." With a smile, she turns to the doors once more.

Keighvyn nods. "Well then, I won't keep you. Perhaps I'll see you later." He gives her a slight bow, and returns to guard duty, though his stance is more relaxed than before and his expression seems softer, especially around his eyes.

----------------

With Tess out of sight, Brighteyes fakes a yawn and a stretch, then leans to whisper into Chely's ear. "D'you s'ppose Miss Tess has got a boyfriend? Maybe we should find her one." Brighteyes leans back, winks, and then takes a few steps forward.

"Where would we find one for her, here?" Chely gives a small laugh and looks about with the wide eyed wonder of someone's first court. Chely loses sight of Brighteyes as she takes in the room and its inhabitants. "Wow, this room didn't look like this when my mom and dad brought me here." Stifling a small cough that racks her petite frame, she wanders about, smiling at the boys and quickly averting her eyes. "Oh shoot, Brighteyes!" startling the people about her, Chely pushes her way back through the crowd towards the last spot she saw her roommate....

... and then Brighteyes eyes a golden watch that someone misplaced on the punch table... "Oooo, pretty." She instantly heads over and picks up the Rolex, inspects it for a few moments, then puts it in her pouch absently.

Jubair is still where he was left by the disbanding of Court, taking in his surroundings. Rajabal spots the young girl take something from a table. He taps Jubair and brings the Eshu's attention to the girl, who is now secreting the object in a pouch.

Jubair smiles for a moment and heads over to the girl. "Hi! What's that you've found?" he asks playfully.

Rajabal rolls his eyes, hoots and flies off Jubair's shoulder and out of the room.

Brighteyes blinks at Jubair. "Huh? Whaddya mean?" She looks at him strangely, confused.

"Well, what did you just take from the table? It's OK - I'm not getting you in trouble or anything - I'd just like to see what you've found, that's all." Jubair smiles warmly at Brighteyes.

"Brighteyes, what are you doing, didn't Tess tell you to stay near....." Chely's voice trails off as she spies who Brighteyes is talking to. "Hi, I'm Chely" she whispers to Jubair, "I saw you talking to the Countess, I guess everyone did and I was wondering where you are from and have you seen a Bedouin camp and what is the "light" and the "dark", where did your owl go and does he talk all the time, probably just when he wants and..." Chely's face turns bright red as she realizes she has been rambling. She quickly grabs Brighteyes' hand for support.

Jubair smiles, his smile replacing a previous look of wonder as Rajabal flew off. He shrugs and proceeds to answer the rambling childling's questions. "Hello Chely. I assume your name is Brighteyes, young lady," Jubair says politely. "Yes, I am from Australia - the Isles of Wandering Dream as my uncle so neatly put it. I don't know where Rajabal has gone but he does talk a lot. He loves riddles, does that owl. I haven't seen a real Bedouin camp, but I have read about them and I would like to see one in real life. As for the "light" and "dark," well I don't know really. It was just something that Rajabal told me I needed to tell the Countess about."

Brighteyes looks at her, confused still, then back at Jubair. "I don't have nothing, mister...." She glances back at Chely, then at Jubair, then Chely, then Jubair... "Chely, do you want me to leave you alone?" The piskie winks again.

"Oh my gosh" Chely blurts out as she turns bright red. "No,......I.....just was wondering where Jubair had been. See, I've been places too and.." Chely takes a deep breath and smiles sweetly

Brighteyes grins.

--------------------

Meanwhile, across town...

It's late, but the next progress update is due tomorrow at 9:00 am and she's got a bit more to finish. These updates only come up every three months. Not an overly onerous duty considering the amount of funding involved.

It's hot outside but the buildings air conditioning is set on super low to protect the computers, so it's a tiny bit chilly.

Christine takes a warming sip from her coffee. She keeps her ever-present mug on a desktop warmer because of the chill in the room. She takes another sip. She sets the cup down and looks back at the screen, just as a large black raven lands on it and croaks, "Nevermore!"

"What the f--" Christine blinks a few times. "I am just not getting enough sleep," she declares, closing her eyes tightly. She opens them back up, just slits at first, to see if the hallucination has disappeared.

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" Again.

Christine rolls her chair back slowly. "That's the biggest damned grackle I've ever seen," she murmurs. She glances sideways, to see if the window is open.

But it's closed. And latched.

"How'd you get in here?" she asks rhetorically in a quiet voice. "God, the techs are gonna pitch a fit when the feathers all over." She carefully picks up some papers and somewhat timidly flaps them at the bird. "G'wan, bird, git!"

The raven hops to the side, "Nevermore!" it croaks again, then it flies up to land on her shoulder. "NEVERMORE!" it screeches in Christine's ear.

"Shit!" Christine yelps, in an abnormally high-pitched voice. She ducks and jerks and bats at the bird. Once she gets it off of her, she runs for the door, closing it behind her, breathing heavily. "Omigod, omigod, omigod," she pants.

The hall of Baker Systems is empty and sterile, electric lighting illuminating its night hallway so that there's nary a shadow. All is quiet.

Christine leans against the closed door, her breathing gradually returning to normal. Christine stands upright and pushes back her hair. She's lost her handful of papers, having dropped them in her office during her headlong escape.

"F'Christ's sake, it's just a bird," she mutters. She speaks with a noticeable Texas drawl. She turns around, facing the door, reaching for the handle. "Hmm, maybe not," she murmurs, and drops her hand. She looks at her shoulder, where the bird had perched, peeking under her shirt to see if it had scratched her. Christine starts walking down the hall, on her way to the 5th floor corral one of the lab techs. "God," she grouses as she checks her watch, "I don't have time for this."

The lab tech shuffles back down the hall with her, "I don't know what you want me to do." the greasy young man complains, "I don't know nothing about birds either."

"Well," Christine says with a disarming smile, "at least you aren't afraid of it."

When the door is opened into Christine's office, however, there is no sign of the bird at all. Nothing even to show it had ever existed.

Christine looks around her office. "Maybe it's up in a corner," she suggests nervously. "Help me look?" She stays a bit behind the tech during the search, quite obviously not interested in being the first to discover the bird. "Hmph, I guess it got how the same way it got in," she says finally. She sighs, hands on hips. "However that was." She turns to the tech and with an apologetic shrug says, "I'm sorry, I guess I brought you here for nothing. But," she adds, "thanks for coming. I couldn't have gone back in there by myself. It was a gawd-awful big bird."

After the tech leaves, Christine returns to her office. She picks up her coffee cup and takes it to the nearest sink, washing it out. "Probably bird-cooties all in there now," she grouses, staring into her mug. After cleaning it out, Christine dumps about a teaspoon of sugar into the mug then fills it a quarter of the way with hot coffee of questionable vintage. She swirls the coffee, dissolving the sugar, then fills the mug full. She sips the coffee, then sighs. Re-fortified, she returns to her office. "Okay," she mutters to herself. "No more birds. Finish the report. No birds. Report. Finish."

Time: 9:00 pm Tuesday, 25 August 1998

-----------------

Back at Herbium Castellum, the merriment continues with the pine shubberlings doing a highland jig to an impromptu satyr band. Many folks have gathered to watch, though some few have slipped off to be alone among the leaves and flowers.

Gwalchamai, Captain of the Rose Guard, comes up to Keighvyn as he stands guard still by the doors. "Sir Keighvyn," he says quietly, "Please be so kind as to bring Lady Tethran and her charges, Brighteyes and Chely Rose to Her Excellency's private audience chambers." His odd, golden hawk eyes bore into the young knight.

Keighvyn straightens up and nods, snapping off a salute. "Yes, sir." As Gwalchamai turns toward Dr. Rowan, he moves off toward the Desert Annex.

Satisfied, Gwalchamai turns and searches out Dr. Rowan. He speaks with the kinain for a few moments, and then leaves him to find Jubair. He finds Jubair speaking with Chely and Brighteyes. "Good Eshu," he says in a low voice, "Would you accompany me? The Countess would speak with you anon."

"Certainly sir," Jubair replies. He turns to Chely and Brighteyes. "It appears that I must depart your company now - it has been a pleasure speaking with you both and I hope your paths bear you good will." Jubair then turns back to Gwalchamai. "Lead on, good sir," he says politely.

"Buh-bye!" Brighteyes waves, then whispers into Chely's ear... or tries to when the sidhe interrupts.

The tall, thin sidhe with the hawk-like features and odd eyes, looks at the girls, "Actually, she would like to see you two as well. Would you join us?"

"I'sppose so...." Brighteyes stays put. "Where are we going..?"

"Sure" turning to Brighteyes, Chely whispers "we are going to SEE the Countess, so cool!"

"Oh.." The prospect of seeing the countess is lost on the little girl. "I guess so.. So, mister, when are we going?"

The sidhe knight smiles, "Right now, lass. Please, this way."

Gwalchamai leads the three towards the side of the stairs leading down into the Palm House. There, almost hidden from view by overhanging vines, a small door stands. The sidhe opens the door and ushers the other three in. Once he has closed the door himself, he leads down a short hall and then opens a second door into the Countess' private audience chamber.

-----------------

As Keighvyn steps into the warm desert annex, he spots Tess resting on a bench midway along the path. She hums merrily as she scribbles onto a piece of parchment. A huge light purple rose stands behind her, its flower bent over her shoulder as if looking at what she writes. As Keighvyn steps sharply toward the oblivious young woman, the flower's head pops up. Bright eyes notice Keighvyn, and the rose once more bends low over Tess.

Tess glances up, a smile on her face, as she quickly rolls the parchment and sticks it in her satchel. "Hi. I didn't expect you so soon."

Keighvyn inclines his head toward Tess. "Milady, forgive the intrusion, but I've been asked to convey you and your charges, Brighteyes and Chely, to Her Excellency's private audience chamber."

"Brighteyes and Chely? I wonder what the Lady wants with the kids," Tess says, as she stands. She lifts the elegant sword that had been resting next to her while she wrote, and hangs it once again on her back. "Well, I'll find the girls, they should be together. Lets start in the Palm Room."

Tess stands, and with a grin, invites the sidhe to follow along. The large purple rose moves along with Tess, its roots stretching out to grasp into the ground, and pulling it forward.

Tess makes her way back toward the Palm Room. Ducking through the area, she stops for a moment, looking around the room. Nodding her head, she moves over to a group of childlings standing in a corner.

"Diz?" Tess asks, as she approaches the group. "Have you seen Chely or Brighteyes?"

A stocky satyr looks up, guilt plain upon his face. "What?" A shuffle of paper sounds from the group, and a flash of a magazine being shoved behind a back.

"What have you got?" Tess says, her hand held out.

"Nothing," the young satyr says. As he crumples the magazine behind his back, and smashes it into a ball, a light flashes, and the magazine disappears.

With a sigh, Tess shakes her head. "All right, for now. Have any of you seen Brighteyes? She had Chely with her."

Diz looks to his friends, and a young Boggan speaks up. "I think they were talking with that guy with the owl. Then Gwalchamai spoke to them, and they all walked away that way." The Boggan waves his hand indicating the direction.

Smiling at the Boggan, Tess says, "Thank you Gabe. And I'll talk with you about that magazine later Diz." Tess walks off as laughs and jeers start loudly.

Approaching Keighvyn, Tess says, "I think the girls are already there."

Keighvyn and Tess head down to see the countess themselves, following the same path as Gwalchamai. They two open the door and enter the Countess' inner sanctum.

The musty smell of earth and water wafts out from this room at once, inside the countess is busy at a small table, potting violets. The rest of the room is clearly intending as a potting room, with dirt, pots, and tools scattered about. The countess works quickly, her small hands working the dirt just right with each plant before moving on to the next.

There are seven others in the room, Jubair and the two girls account for three.

Off to the side, holding quill and parchment ready, stands a short, plump boggan. Those with more experience at court recognize him as Tobias Sedgewick, he owns 'Literary Treasures', a local bookstore, and advises the Countess on political matters in addition to acting as her scribe.

A tall, imposing satyr stands beside the Countess. His beard and hairy legs are both as grey as steel, but he radiates a sense of confident power even as he leans on a gnarled staff. Court regulars know him as Hecataeus, the court sorcerer and a member of the famed Crystal Circle. A satyr wilder, Sebastian Larkatos, leans against the wall behind Hecateaus. He's known as the wizard's apprentice.

Finally, standing in a corner and staring intently at some rosebuds, is an older human gentleman in a very neat black suit, wearing wire rimmed glasses. Dr. Rowan, Headmaster of the Gremarye Institute, seems to not be paying much attention to the proceedings.

The Countess smiles at Gwalchamai, "Ahh.. good, my Hawk, you've found them all. Excellent." The sidhe knight bows, "I will return to watch over the festivities, Your Excellency." He turns and leaves the room silently.

The countess, smiles, "He's always so serious. We'll need to find someone to brighten his face someday soon. Well, Hecataeus, go ahead, they're all here now."

The old satyr nods his head, "Your message, Jubair, will require some thought to puzzle out but the meaning of at least one part is clear. A sidhe shall have his or her chrysalis within the County of Buckeyes and soon. Most of the sidhe come into the Autumn World lacking the family support that so many commoners take for granted, they are usually in great danger as a result, despite their power."

The old goat continues, "Sir Keighvyn, you shall accompany my apprentice here and Jubair the traveler in rescuing this new sidhe and bringing him or her to the Countess. You go for your steel, my apprentice for his skills, and Jubair's place in this group has been chosen by the Dreaming, it would seem. You must have help, however."

Sebby pulls a Greek coin with the Pan's head on it out of his pouch, flips it, and catches it on the back of his hand. He looks at it for a moment, and smiles before putting it back in his pouch.

The old satyr clears his throat and looks uncomfortably towards Dr. Rowan for a moment. "I have scried as much as I could in such a short time for some clue to this unfortunate soul's location. I have only found two pieces of information which may help you. In my first vision, I saw a mirror upon which geese swam, I believe this was Mirror Lake on OSU's campus, and that he or she shall awaken within that area. Second, I got only a phrase, 'My Soul Within Me Burning'. Are any of you familiar with the phrase?"

Keighvyn frowns. "Isn't that the title of the fantasy novel everyone's talking about?"

"Yes, a somewhat infamous book within Kithain society. We believe it is the author of this work who is about to undergo his or her Chrysalis. We think that Chely and Brighteyes might be able to aid in getting close to this sidhe, posing as fans and autograph seekers. Lady Tethran, of course, shall accompany them to make certain they are not in any danger." the satyr finishes. "I'm afraid we know nothing else which could help."

"None of you need accept this charge." the Countess says quietly as she begins pruning a small azalea, "Nor shall refusal affect your status in my court in anyway. But we must fine this young sidhe, for a I fear that he or she is much bound up in the warning Jubair here traveled so far to give. Concordia balances on the knife's edge, children. We must take notice when it seems it might tip one way or the other."

Keighvyn bows to the countess and says, "It would be my honor to undertake this quest, Your Excellency." Then he turns to the others. "I assume we should begin at OSU?"

"I suppose so," Tess says, somewhat reluctantly. "It would be interesting to meet the author anyhow," she says with a little more excitement.

Sebby steps forward and offers a hand to Keighvyn, whom he recognizes from the court, and says "Looks like a raid on OSU, huh? Well, it's not like I've been itching to get back to school, but let's hit the campus. Who's driving?"

"No offense to Lady Tethran, but Brighteyes and I could go and check the author out. I mean, I know the way on the bus to OSU. And, don't you think it would be a little less suspicious if just us fans were there?" Chely begins quietly but her voice grows stronger as she speaks. Suddenly she coughs, a horrid sound that racks her small pale frame.

Sebastian, surprised by the girl's sudden spasm of coughing, runs over to her side and kneels "Are you all right? Do you need to see the court healer?"

Tess aborts her move to help Chely as Sebastian steps up. "You alright honey?" she asks the frail looking girl. "Now I warned you before about calling me Tethran?"

As Chely regains her composure, Tess shakes her head. "Now I can see your point about riding up, but it wouldn't be any less suspicious if your guardian came along with you. I have taken kids to autograph signings before. Besides, your parents would kill me if I let you go off on your own. Especially with that cough."

As Sebastian comes over to help Chely and Tess comforts the girl, Keighvyn's lithe form loses the tension that seized it at the sound of her coughing, but his brows are still drawn together and there is a concerned, or perhaps worried, look in his blue eyes. "Are you well, milady?" he asks, inclining his head toward her courteously.

Chely nods and straightens up.

Sebastian, now content that the child will be all right, stands up. "I think it would be best if we all went, perhaps in two groups. I say that Keighvyn, Jubair, and I go as backup. If it has become apparent to our seers that this Sidhe is important to our quest, whatever this "Dark" is will likely be looking for him, or her, as well. Brighteyes, Chely, and the Lady Tess should go ahead and meet the author face to face. The easy explanation is that their babysitter has been reading the story to them, and would like to meet the author face to face. The three guys will stay behind in case of trouble." Sebby then turns to Keighvyn and Jubair. "Is this an acceptable plan?"

Keighvyn nods. "My car isn't too far from here... I can take both of you if you like."

The old goat sorcerer shakes his head, "Think, young ones. Think. It is very late, you can not just show up at this time of night asking for autographs! The quest is urgent, but it can wait for morning. Besides," he looks at them, "We do not know who he or she is, or even the real name of this author. Some research, this evening, will be needed, I think. Then a trip in the morning. Approaching a changeling in chrysalis, especially a new fledged sidhe, is no easy task. You must win their trust, defend them from any hostile chimera they've spawned, or anything else attracted to the glamour that will pour from them during this awakening. You must be circumspect, cautious, careful." He frowns, "and you must try to minimize the exposure of any mundanes to anything of the Dreaming which leaks through."

"I agree with your idea, Sebastian," Jubair says, "but Hecataeus is right. How shall we know whom we seek when we have neither seen nor known of her aside from this book? Once we have discovered more about her, I will be willing to assist in any capacity I can. When this Sidhe Chrysalises, she could be capable of practically anything. The question that remains for the moment is where do we start?" Jubair continues, addressing this to the room.

Keighvyn nods. "Jubair is right, I think." He smiles a little, looking chagrined. "And my mortal co-workers would probably rebuke me for rushing into things without sufficient data, as well." His eyes narrow. "But how are we to learn more of him, or her?" His eyes take on an opaque look as he seems to be turning things over in his mind. "Perhaps tomorrow, we can stake out the University, and then implement Sebastian's plan when we know whom it is we search for?"

Grinning at the grump, "What? Not rush in?" Tess smiles amusedly. "You're right of course, but it just doesn't seem as fun." Turning toward Jubair and Keighvyn, Tess says, "I think I've a copy of it back in my collection. If we're lucky, it may have a picture on the back, and maybe some info. You know authors love to brag on themselves on the backs. It might also give me a chance to brief the bopsie twins here on the story a bit." Tess gives a quick grin to the girls, her gaze lingering on Chely a bit longer as she watches the girl recovering.

Sebby asks, "Wouldn't it be wiser to send recon while fewer mortals would be around to witness any of us breaking the Escheat? Being night time, it would be wiser to send one or two of us now, my recommendation being Jubair and I, just for the purposes of gathering information. Perhaps we would even encounter the Chrysalid. We wouldn't attempt anything further than gaining some information about where he or she might live and work at OSU. This would also, with the Dreaming behind us, give us knowledge of what he or she looks like. Besides, there will be enough University students there, even this late, that it wouldn't look all that suspicious if we were wandering campus."

Tess nods her head in agreement. "True enough. Besides, if the Chrysalis is occurring now, and we are all resting, there could be problems."

Sebby then turns to Jubair, asking "Are you up for it this evening, or do you vote on the side of extreme caution as well? Besides, a short trip to the campus would be good for us. I could use a walk."

"I'll take the girls with me back to the Institute, and we'll do what we can from there," Tess says, as she kneels down and starts rummaging through her satchel. Finally after a moment, she pulls out a piece of parchment and a quill. She quickly scribbles down something, and hands it to Jubair. "That's my number at the Institute, in case you guys need us." Turning to Keighvyn, Tess asks, "Are you going with them? If not, I might be able to use your help."

Time: 10:00 pm Tuesday, 25 August 1998
Current Weather: Partly Cloudy Expected Weather: Sunny

"MY SOUL WITHIN ME BURNING"

A sci-fi/fantasy book has caused a bit of an uproar in Kithain circles because it depicts Kithain society far too accurately for comfort. Indeed, some claim the book must be written by a changeling, and that the writer should be punished for breaking the Escheat. To date, however, the writer has not been discovered. A review of the work in question appears below:

Original summary by Paul Westermeyer; converted to HTML by Midori Hirtzel-Church