After the meeting with the Countess comes to a close, and the group begins to break up, going to their respective homes, Tess approaches Keighvyn, Velvet still riding her shoulder.
"Keighvyn, do you have a second? I'd like to ask you a favor," she says.
"Sure, what is it?" he answers.
"Well, I was hoping you could show me something," Tess says, clearly uncomfortable.
Tess draws the her father's blade out once more, the blade shining brightly, clean once again of the blood of the oathmakers. "I could use a little instruction on how to use this thing. I never thought I'd have to, but if we are going somewhere dangerous, I need to be able to protect the kids."
"Well, holeee shit," Chris mumbles at the sight of the blade. "I figured those things were ceremonial." She laughs softly, "Gimme my nine millimeter any day, darlin'."
"Not really sure if that will work where we're going, and I know for sure this doesn't run out of ammo," Tess says, smiling. "'Sides, I can do as much damage with this thing as most of those little guns, long as I get close enough."
Well, now," Chris laughs, "that's the problem. I don't want anyone gettin' that close. Pack nine hardballs under six Starfires, and you're all set." She grins at Keighvyn and adds, "Hypothetically, of course. I understand y'all don't have a carry law here'bouts."
"Having had experience with both, I'd chose the sword where we're going," Keighvyn says, touching the hilt of his own sword in something very like a caress. He smiles at Tess. "And it'd be my pleasure to teach you. I'm not as good as my uncle or Sir Gwalchamai, understand, but I'll do what I can."
"Mind if I watch?" Chris asks. She turns to Tess and adds with a smile, "If it'll make you nervous, that's okay, I'll understand."
"Nah, I've played for a crowd before. Just don't laugh to hard when I fall on my rump," Tess says grinning. Turning back to Keighvyn, she says, "How bout we meet at the school. We can use the gym, all the sports programs will be over with by then, just a couple of kids goofin' around, and I got the authority to shoo them at least to the other side of the gym. 7ish?"
"Works for me," Keighvyn returns.
"Great, see you there," says Tess. Turning to Chris, Lisa says, "Are you gonna stay at my place tonight, or would you feel more comfortable at home. I think any real crisis is unlikely now, but your welcome to stay if you'd like."
"If you and Big Daddy think it's safe," Chris replies to Lisa with a grin in Kevin's direction, "I'd just as soon go on home." She plucks at her dress. "It's a shame to put this dress up so early, though..." She sighs and holds up her hands in supplication. "I know, I know, don't push my luck. Directly home. I'll be a good girl." She flashes another grin at Kevin, not looking much like 'good girl' at all.
Time: 8:30 pm Wednesday, 26 August 1998
Current Weather: Sunny Expected Weather: Sunny
-------------------
Jubair returns home from the Herbarium and gets two candles, two candlesticks, an atlas and a compass. Once he finds these things, he heads up to his room and puts the things down on the floor.
Using the atlas and compass, he orients himself so that he is facing in the general direction of Iran [Persia] and sets the two candles up in front of him, one on each side. He kneels on the floor, gets out his I Ching divination equipment, lights the candle on his right and says the following in Arabic:
"Great Senmurv, wise and gentle bird-spirit, bearer of kindness, keeper of arcane lore and curer of ills, I call to you to share with me your wisdom and experience, that you may help me guide others through their future and bring them fortune."
Then Jubair lights the candle on his left and says the following in English:
"Great Senmurv, what I seek is small knowledge of the future. A friend of mine, Kelia, is to undergo a test to determine to which noble House she belongs to. Failure of this test could mean dire consequences for her. All I ask is that you grant me clues or knowledge that will help her pass this great test that she must face."
Jubair then bows, closes his eyes and performs the divination.
A great wave of glamour washes over Jubair, so that he feels as if he were drowning in a molten sea. He collapses, knocking over the candle on the right; fortunately it goes out. When he comes to he's no worse for the wear, and the glamour he spent has been replenished, but Jubair think's it's clear that the Dreaming has answered 'No Comment' to his question.
Time: 8:30 pm Wednesday, 26 August 1998
Current Weather: Sunny Expected Weather: Sunny
*******************
Next morning, Jubair, Lungwam and Rajabal arrive at the Gremayre Institute courtesy of uncle Iain. They enter and head over to the library, Jubair talking in transit. Jubair carries a large notepad and a small pencil tin.
"OK, basically what we're looking for is as much information on Holiday Towns as we can get out hands on - stories, descriptions, guidebooks, you name it. We'll need to check for maps too, just in case. The more information we can gather, the easier our job is going to be. Lungwam, I'll see if I can dig up some stuff for you on European Fae and the basics of the Dreaming for you to go through. If you're confused, just look for me and I'll answer your queries as best I can. Rajabal and I will be searching through the whole library."
The Rock Giant sighs audibly. "Look, can I ask you a favor? DON'T call me Lungwam." He sighs again. "It's like this. My Nunnehi name is Lungwam Nutiket. Thats Leni Lenape for Dream Guardian. When you call me Lungwam, that translates as Dream, and it makes me sound like a hippy. So, if your going to call me by something short, call me Nutiket please. And when mortals are around, you can call me Jim Pisano."
Jubair nods "Ah, OK. Sorry about that Nu - Jim," Jubair replies with a bow. "Incidentally, I'm Jake when humans are around."
With a sharp nod, Nutiket goes on. "Don't worry about going out of your way to find stuff on you Europeans. That can wait, our quest is more important I'm sure. Besides, I'm more concerned about teaching you stuff about us Natives."
"Fair enough - I guess that can wait until tonight," Jubair smiles. "Well, let's get started."
Unfortunately for the trio, nothing specific was turned up in the Institute. However, they work out that the Holiday Towns are based on the dreams of many children, so they make a note to grab some more general and popular literature and even some videos.
When they return to Iain's house, Nutiket and Jubair busy themselves with moving all the furniture in the living room to the sides, so they have room to work. Nutiket undresses to his breechcloth and stands opposite Jubair. "OK, we're going to start simple. The most important part of combat is concentration. When you fight, you must remain cool, calm and collected. If you get angry and lose control of yourself, your opponent wins. Your actions must always be your own. Got it?"
Jubair nods. "Got it."
"Good. Now, let's get to the basics. I want you to make a fist and hit me," he indicates his chin "right here, as hard as you can." Nods his head. "Go ahead, give me a solid hit, hard as you can manage."
Jubair clenches his fist, focuses on Nutiket's chin and strikes as hard as he can.
Nutiket rubs his jaw thoughtfully. "Well, that wasn't bad. Try this." Nutiket moves behind him and sets him up in a wider stance. "That should give you a better base. Now, when your punching someone like that, you pull back your fist and put everything behind it. Don't punch with just your arm. Punch with your shoulder and back, everything you can pack into it." Nutiket moves back in front to look at him again. "Also, try to aim for the bottom of my chin this time, like an upper cut." Softly hits Jubair's chin. "Like that. Got it? Good, then try again." He then makes his chin an inviting target.
Jubair looks at Nutiket, thinks for a moment and then executes the punch, ducking down slightly before bringing the fist up.
Nutiket rubs his jaw thoughtfully with a slight grimace. "That was..." he gives a small grunt, "much better. I liked the whole ducking thing. Lets work on your stance a little bit more now." Nutiket rubs his jaw painfully one last time, then starts moving Jubair's arms around. "OK, you want this one up here, to block blows to your face, and you want this one down here so you can give a quick jab or two." Moves Jubair around until he is in a fair approximation of a lightweight boxer's stance. "Now, you're looking kind of flatfooted. Stand on the balls of your feet, like this." Demonstrates standing on the balls of one's feet, looking rather comical as he bounces around. "Try that. You know, float like a butterfly, sting like a bee?"
Jubair laughs. "Yeah, I got the idea. I was thinking I'd have to rely more on speed than strength."
Nutiket nods. "OK, lets try this now. use your left hand and give me a few jabs." He demonstrates a jab. "Like that. Hit me around here, in my midsection or Solar Plexus." He motions around the bottom area of his gut. "Just a few quick shots, not like the big ones we just did."
Jubair obliges, letting go with a few swift jabs.
Nutiket lets him jab at his midsection for a minute, then "OK, stop now. That tickles!!" Nutiket chuckles and holds up a hand. "I'm just kidding. OK, how about we do a little bit of real sparing, then call it a night." Nutiket takes his fighting stance. "You can start whenever you're ready."
Jubair starts off, and the two of them launch into an enthusiastic sparring session for the rest of the afternoon.
Time: Thursday, 27 August 1998
Current Weather: Sunny Expected Weather: Sunny
---------------------
The phone rings, catching Chris's attention from what she is doing. Upon answering the phone, she hears Tess's cheerful voice on the line, "Hey Chris! You busy?"
Chris sighs. The computer screen had not magically changed to be full of complete, accurate work. She comes out of her reverie at the sound of the phone ringing. Grateful for the interruption, she hits the 'save' button and answers. "'Lo?" She smiles slightly at the cheerful voice. "Lisa? Busy. Well, I oughta be, but my brain's 'bout fried." She laughs and pushes her chair back from the desk and relaxes, phone against her ear. "So if you've got something better'n starin' at a blank screen, Ah'm not busy."
"Yuck, staring at a blank screen drives me nuts!" answers Lisa. "Can't tell you how annoying that is, especially when you're writing kids stuff. That's supposed to be easy. Anyhow, since I got the day off, and we don't have to train with Kevin 'till later, thought I might take you up on your offer."
"Offer?" Chris asks, then says, "Oh, shopping! Sure," she agrees enthusiastically, "that'd be great. Lemme jump in the shower real quick. You want to come here, or should I pick you up?"
"How bout you pick me up? That way I don't barge in on yer shower, and I can get a few things together. Gotta find the check book and all," replies Lisa.
"Okay," Chris agrees readily. She gives Lisa an approximate time and hangs up.
Chris roars into the parking lot a mere five minutes after the time she said she'd be there. She looks a bit different from the night of the meeting with the Countess; no makeup and casual clothes. She seems to be one of those people who looks even better without the makeup.
Lisa opens the door to her little apartment with a smile. Dressed in jeans and a slightly oversized OSU tee, she nods for Chris to come in. "Let me grab my stuff." Lisa grabs a baseball cap off of the couch, and pulls it on, tucking her pony-tailed hair through the back with practiced ease. Grabbing a small brown leather purse, completely different than anything Chris has seen her carry before, Lisa picks up her fancy pen, and tucks it in. In the fae world a sword is shoved into a scabbard, and as she swings the baldric over her shoulder, the purse hangs down.
"'Right, just got a royalty check, so I got a bit of cash to burn. Where to?" asks Lisa as she follows Chris back out into the hallway. As she closes the door, she calls back in, "Daisy! We'll be back later!" With that she closes the door, not bothering to lock it.
Chris leads Lisa to her Pathfinder, beeping the lock with her key remote. "Royalty check? You write kids' books?" she asks curiously.
Lisa shrugs self-deprecatingly, "I write kids' poetry, actually, a few books. Nothing so impressive as say, Silverstein, but it certainly give me enough to live comfortably off of if I ever decide to leave the Institute. Basically what it does is give me money to blow once in a while."
Chris and Lisa are soon at the Mall shopping and talking. The afternoon passes pleasantly as the two get to know each other. Eventually the conversation turns to fae matters...
"But enough of my stuff," Lisa says, her posture showing her comfort now. "You had told us that your story was because you had seen a few of us in a parking lot, before your change. Did that happen here? Or was that back at home?"
"That was back in Dallas," Chris says, finishing off her coffee and idly spinning the empty cup in her hands. "I'd been up pretty late in the computer lab, later'n I'd meant. When I went out to the parking lot, I saw these figures at a street lamp, looking at me. At first they looked like kids, you know, mid to late teens, and then after just an instant, they looked... different. I figured I was just too damned tired and got in my car and got the hell outta there, but I never could shake that vision. I guess now I had a 'flash' or something."
"Yeah, it sounds like it. Not really that uncommon really. I spent most of my early years with Daisy, never understanding really that no one else was not really capable of seeing her. I was a teenager before the banality started to wear on her, and she stopped coming around. I guess I had stopped believing. Wasn't till college, when I changed, that she came back," says Lisa, setting down her still half full cup. Lisa looks serious suddenly, and she looks into Chris's eyes. "I need to tell you something. About your books."
Chris sits up a bit straighter at the change in Lisa's demeanor. Lisa sees apprehension in Chris' pale blue eyes. The corner of Chris' left eyebrow twitches. "I-- I gathered there's a problem, but I don't really understand."
"Well, it depends upon who you talk to actually," says Lisa, her voice placating. "I enjoyed your book, as did a lot of people. However, there are those who think that it is to close to the way things really are." Lisa thinks for a moment, then continues, "A long time ago, the Fae didn't live these double lives. We lived free of the constraints of mortality, and were able to flit between the Dreaming and the Mortal Realm with ease." Lisa glances around for a moment, then lowers her voice a tad. "Something happened. At the beginning of the Industrial Age, science and reason became to strong, and the drove a wedge between the worlds, blocking us from our ancestral home of Avalon. Most of the Sidhe were able to escape, but in so doing, they abandoned the commoners in this world, by shutting off the trods, or paths, into the Dreaming."
"In order to survive, " says Lisa, "we were forced to take up seriously, what had only been a game in the past. We began to hide ourselves from the Banality that was quickly overwhelming the world, by taking on mortal shells. We became what the Irish called changelings. In order to save ourselves, we have hidden ourselves from the real world. Many fae believe we require the veil, so that the powers of humanity don't destroy us."
"I guess what I'm trying to tell you, is that you really shook some people with your last book. Since you weren't completely accurate, and you wrote the book before your Chrysalis, you'll be forgiven by most, though some might still hold it against you that you endangered this 'veil'. You need to be very careful what you allow into your second book, especially now that you'll have almost complete access to the reality of the fae. I know you have been thinking of redoing what you had thought up. My suggestion is, try to keep it as close to the original idea as you can, without introducing to much of what you are learning now. Your House, whatever that may be, might help to protect you, and me, Brighteyes, and the guys will protect you best we can, but sometimes its best to avoid those kinds of fights if you can." warns Lisa.
"Hell," Chris grumbles, "I think I've demonstrated a distinct lack of desire to fight about the damned book." She sighs and says, "I'm not sure what to do. I mean, my original idea for the sequel explained the shadows, uhm, you know, that's what I called 'em, as being extra-dimensional and accessing our 'reality' through a virtual doorway. Kelia, uhm, Kelly, she and Elizabeth found out, inadvertently, how to access the shadows in our 'reality.' Anyway, the shadows are trying kill her because they want to make more inroads into our 'reality' and Kelly wants to shut down the gate."
Chris smiles and apologizes, "Sorry, rambling. And then, after, you know, I started thinking about other directions. But I guess it's best not to. 'Though, I may see about having Kelly access the other 'reality.' There were good shadows in the book, you know. I'd planned on having her working more closely with them." She grins playfully and says, "I did describe some shadows as being large with a bluish tinge, so she could ally with a nice, tall blue chick..."
Lisa smirks, "How fun. You could call her Pinky." Growing a little more serious, Lisa says, "I'm not trying to tell you how to write your books, I'm just letting you know that if you reveal _too_ much about us, you could be garnishing enemies. =Not that I am worried about it myself, but some people are paranoid."
Chris nods. "Yeah, I understand. I don't need to be asking for trouble. God knows it seems to be finding me easily enough as is."
Chris tilts her head slightly, looking rather cute as she does, and asks Lisa, "So, uhm, does this 'commoner' stuff, you know, bother you? I mean," she explains, "I'm having trouble, you know, getting used to thinking like that, to being thought of like that. I mean, part of me understands it and thinks it's right, that non-sidhe aren't quite, you know, but part of me, a bigger part," she assures Lisa, "thinks that's bullshit. It's just so damned confusing. And," she adds, her voice and eyes dropping, "more than a little frightening."
Lisa chuckles, "I'm of two minds myself. Ages ago, my kind were the nobility of the fae. After a long war, things changed. However, I've come to accept it. It's kinda like having a boss or manager that has never done the job. You let them think they are running things, then you do it the right way."
"The hardest part I think, is that we come from a society in the mortal realm that is starting to move away from that sort of racism, while in the fae world, the color of your skin definitely has something to do with it," Lisa grins a bit as she places her hand on the table, the pale blue of her fae skin shimmering off the glossy plastic.
"You think it's really any better in the mortal world?" Chris replies skeptically. "Personally, I think it's as bad as ever; we've just shifted targets." She looks into her still-empty cup and snorts. "People suck."
Lisa shakes her head a little, "I think it's a lot better than it used to be. Women and Africans, both have come very long distances. I don't really think that we've shifted targets, though looking at the news, you see more stories about hate crimes about homosexuals and a few other groups. I think those are showing up more, because there are less repressions and crimes against the 'traditional' groups, so they show up much more obviously."
Lisa frowns a little. "I'm not saying that there isn't prejudices. Just look at the way those editors treated your characters in your book. I can't imagine why, what real reason they would want to do it. It wouldn't have really affected the story much. They were just uncomfortable with it, so they nixed it. It's out there, but I do think its getting better. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if in a few years, we have television shows with gay couples or characters."
"We already have gay characters on television," Chris snorts. "And if two of them kiss, they slap a parental advisory on it." She shrugs then smiles, a tad wryly. "It's not all that big of a deal, not my book anyway. I mean, I don't think the editors really cared all that much; they just figured it might harm sales. It's all about money, after all. Money and sales. I think they also took one look at me and thought, 'Oh no, we don't want people thinking she's a dyke.' I sweartogod, I had a face-to-face meeting with my editor and his whole attitude changed. I mighta not made the connection," she continues, looking irritated, "but that crap happens all the time. I mean, I know there's that old 'dumb blonde' thing and all, but God. It's really irritating to have your damned professors take one look at you on the first day of class and tell you you're in the wrong room." She shrugs and says sheepishly, "I know I shouldn't bitch about looking like a cheerleader, but I get tired of people assuming I'm an idiot. Half the men in my status meetings are more interested in checking me out than in my report. There're worse problems to have, I know, but it gets, well, old."
Chris manages to spin her empty cup out of control and sends it flying to the floor. With a grin she reaches down and retrieves it. "Sorry. S'anyway, enough of my bitching and moaning. That, uhm," she asks, leaning closer to Lisa and lowering her voice, "that thing you did with your drink, showing that little girl -- how'd you do that? I mean, I know I did, well, something when I got that website on my computer, but I don't really know how I did it. Or what I did. It just, well, worked."
Lisa smiles "Handy hmm? They are called Cantrips." Lisa plays with the lip of her coffee cup, her face thoughtful. "They are kinda the way we manipulate the Dreaming, kinda. It's not my specialty when it comes to teaching, and it's a difficult concept. Our people are very in touch with the creative force that humans, and others, create. That is called the Dreaming. Our cantrips are ways of manipulating the Dreaming, as far as I can tell. The cantrip I was using is actually fairly advanced, so it would be hard to explain exactly how it worked. It takes a bit of practice, and some luck. What you did, was a cantrip, but it was.... raw? Unschooled is maybe a better way of saying it. When we first come into our Fae state, we are saturated in glamour, the stuff of dreams. Sometimes, if we really want something, when we are so filled with glamour, it just happens, without us knowing exactly what happened. I'm not sure if I'm making sense. There are teachers at the Institute that are better at explaining it, or maybe Sebastian could.."
"Oh, goodie," Chris replies with a wry smile, "back to school." She laughs quietly. "I wish I knew what I'd done. It'd really cut down my research time." She brushes back a stray lock of hair. "Maybe Sebastian can teach me more about it on this trip. I mean, assuming I'm able to go. I'm ahead on my project, so that'll be okay, and I got up ridiculously early this morning and cranked out enough to keep my editor happy. So now I'm just working up the courage to call up the Baron and see if he'll meet me for dinner," she says with a grimace. "Can you recommend a restaurant? Some place nice, private but not too private?"
"Sure," says Lisa. Her face is thoughtful for a moment as she takes a sip of her coffee. With a grimace, she sets the cup down, and shoves it aside. "Yuck, cold."
Looking back at Chris, Lisa says, "Well, I'd suggest you meet somewhere a little upscale. The Baron is not only royalty, but wealthy." A slight smile plays across her face. "I think Girardi's would do nicely."
"Course, if you want to get reservations, we had best get going," says Lisa.
"Yeah," Chris agrees, her tone betraying a hint of reluctance. "You've got a fencing lesson with Kevin tonight, right? I'll talk with him and see if he wants to go, maybe tomorrow. I mean," she adds, "I'd just as soon go by myself, but he might feel since he's supposed to be my foster whatever, that he oughta be there." Chris grimaces. "At least he won't insult the man," she says with a wry smile. She gathers up her trash, automatically gathering Lisa's as well and dumping it into the nearest trashcan.
Time: 3:30 pm Thursday, 27 August 1998
Current Weather: Sunny Expected Weather: Sunny
---------------------
When Keighvyn arrives at the school, dressed in gray sweatpants and a "Maryland Renaissance Festival" T-shirt, he finds Kelia and Tess waiting for him in Tess's apartments. Tess is dressed in some baggy sweat pants, a t-shirt, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail under her cap. When she opens the door, she smiles broadly, "Glad to see you could make it, we've been waiting."
Looking back to Kelia, Tess asks, "Wanna watch me get my butt kicked?"
"Sounds exciting," Chris laughs.
Tess leads the others across the campus, to a small gymnasium. Inside, it is large enough for one basketball court, and dozens of multicolored tape lines have been placed across the floor to denote different sports fields. About a dozen kids, childlings and kinain, are playing in the gym. A large mat has been rolled out one the open side of the court, and Tess moves over to stand on it.
Once they're done stretching, Keighvyn unzips the bag and pulls out two items that look like duct-tape-covered sticks with crosspieces about two of his hands-breadths from the ends. Handing one to Tess and keeping the other himself, he says, "These are SCA swords -- rattan blades, but they duplicate the feel of actual blades pretty well. And they're easier on folks you hit than actual steel." He grins, eyeing Tess's impressive muscles.
Keighvyn bends his knees and sinks a little lower, explaining, "This puts your center of gravity lower, makes you harder to knock down." Then he shows her some simple footwork; after that, they move on to making blows and blocking, advancing whenever Tess feels she's ready.
Several of the kids start gathering around, watching the two adults spar. It soon becomes evident who the favorite is, as they all cheer anytime Tess is smacked, or forced to retreat.
After the practice is finished, Keighvyn signals Tess to take a breather and rakes his damp bangs from his forehead. "Take five. I'm gonna hit the soda machine -- can I get anything for either of you ladies?"
"Diet Dr. Pepper, if you don't mind," Chris replies with a smile. She thanks Kevin for the drink and sips it while leaning against the wall. She brushes back her hair, a bit mussed from her cheerleading antics.
Keighvyn takes a long swallow of Diet Coke and then turns to Chris. "Okay." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "We've only got a few days before your big event, so I guess we'd better start soon."
Chris asks Keighvyn, "You ever been to Girardi's? Lisa suggested it," she explains, "as a good place to meet with the Baron. I'm just working up the nerve to call him."
Keighvyn shakes his head. "My family's always been more of the Denny's or Uno's type of crowd." He grins then, his eyes taking on a nostalgic cast.
Original summary by Paul Westermeyer; converted to HTML by Midori Hirtzel-Church