Tag Archive: Luke

Jun 19

In the Company of Angels: Episode 15.1 – The Abbot

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 15.1 – The Abbot

The week following what Sam and Jill came to call the “Orbaratan Apocalypse” was a very difficult one for Jill. She, Sam, Polydora, and Mr. Luke had returned without incident to the Gallery via the portal that had taken them to Orbaratus in the first place. And when asked, Mr. Luke had been just as perplexed as Jill as to why Azarias might have thought the portal might prove be missing.

The portal was, as it happened, precisely where they had expected it to be, and Sam claimed he was pretty sure it had been there all along, or at least it had been since he and Azarias had exited the Maze with Polydora. But once Polly had assured them all that she was able to stand, they had collected Azarias’ staff and the raven in its basket, and had wasted no time in returning to the Gallery. When they arrived, all appeared to be just as they had left it, although the day had progressed and it was no longer morning.

In fact, upon their return, the day was nearly spent. Jill gave her ring and cloak to Mr. Luke, donned her coat, and hurriedly returned home. She was exhausted, but she arrived back at her house just in time for supper. She was also famished, and was far too busy eating to realize that she had hardly spoken a word to her mother since she had returned.

“My! I’ve not seen you eat that much since last July when you came back home from summer camp!” said Evie. “Did you and Sam have fun today? And where was it you went, again…to an art  gallery?”

Jill realized then that her plate was empty. She looked out the window of the eat-in kitchen and watched the cardinals gorging themselves at the bird feeder as the light failed. She thought of the raven.

“Yes, mom. It was a gallery of sorts, but also an art studio,” she replied. “The owner, Mr. Luke, is an artist and a very nice man. He told me to tell you that you’re welcome to come and visit him yourself anytime you’d like. But the day was…well…certainly interesting!” It was the best Jill could think of to say.

“From the way you’ve eaten, you must have been on your feet the whole time! Didn’t you have any lunch? And didn’t this artist — what did you say his name was?”

“Mr. Luke. Um, Luke Lester.”

“Didn’t Mr. Lester give you anything to eat?”

“Oh, yes, he did! We had a delightful tea, with all the trimmings; just like we had when we visited England! Mr. Luke was educated at Oxford, you see.

“Oh, and I have his card. I’ll get it for you to see. I think you’ll like his paintings!”

“That must mean that he paints fairy tales, hmmm?” Evie smiled. “That’s fine, dear. But how does Sam know him?”

“Sam helps him at the gallery pretty regularly; kind of like a volunteer, I think.”

“Well, I’m glad Sam introduced you to him. I like Sam. I think he is a very nice boy. And I’m so glad he got home safely last night after all of that awful howling got started!”

“Last night!” Jill thought to herself. “Did that really happen only last night?!” It seemed like ages had passed since the rumpus in the library.

Sam and Mr. Luke had both told her that time moved differently in other worlds than it did in our own, so it was no wonder that Jill had slept as soundly that night as if she had been away from home for a week. In fact, her mother had great difficulty waking her for church the next morning, and when her eyes opened, she had at first looked about the room wildly, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Did you have a bad dream, honey?” Evie had asked.

“No…no, mom. I just…I just didn’t know where I was for a second, that’s all….” Jill had replied. Hazel had leapt up onto her bed then and had butted his face against her hands, and Jill had obligingly rubbed the tabby’s ears.

Now, nearly a full week had passed since Jill had returned from Orbaratus, and she was heading once more toward the Gallery on a bright but chilly winter’s morning. Up ahead she saw number 220, and she stepped up to the door and reached for the  intercom. But before she could even touch the button, she heard the door buzz. She opened it and climbed the stairs to the second floor. As she approached the mirrored-glass door that separated the landing from the Gallery proper, the door was suddenly thrown wide open. Polly was standing in the doorway, backlit by the flood lamps within the Gallery. She knelt down and threw her long arms around Jill, lifting her up in a great bearhug. They both laughed as she swept Jill into the Gallery and placed her back upon her own two feet once more.

Jill was laughing so hard tears came to her eyes, but once she caught her breath she looked around her. The Gallery was just as it had been the week before, and Mr. Luke was once more wearing his paint-spattered coveralls. Sam was nowhere in sight.

“Ah, welcome! Welcome my dear!” said Mr. Luke, as he approached her, beaming. “Polly sensed you were coming five minutes ago, and it was all I could do to keep her from running out into the street to greet you! Imagine what a commotion that would have caused!”

Jill grinned. “It’s good to be back, Mr. Luke! But, where’s Sam? Wasn’t he going to be here as well?”

“Oh, he is already with Father Hildebrandt,” said Mr. Luke.

“You mean in Rome?!”

“Yes, indeed! It’s rather later in the day over there now, you know, and he’s asked that you join them as soon as you are able.

“To that end…” Mr. Luke turned and indicated a painting behind him. “To that end, Polly retrieved this reproduction of a painting that my brother Charles created. I’m not entirely sure when he made it, but it has proven useful. This one is large enough to framerun without your needing to get down on your hands and knees, thank heavens: that was what was required of me when I frameran the original! I used the original to reach Azarias last week, while you and Samuel were off collecting Muninn.”

“Muninn?” asked Jill. “Who’s Muninn?”

“That, little one, is what Father Hildebrandt has chosen to name the raven that was stealing the Guarding Stones,” said Polly.

“Yes, Father Hildebrandt has taken over the care and feeding of the creature,” said Luke. “It appears that the good Abbot is quite fond of ravens, and he has decided he would be the best person to watch over the bird: Brother Azarias is too busy with other things, and keeping the bird here, we all decided, might prove far too dangerous, given his love of framerunning!”

“But did we ever find out how he does that?” asked Jill. “I mean, did he swallow a crystal, or does he have one strapped underneath his feathers, or what?”

“Well, we’ve found no evidence of either of those. He appears to simply be one of Nature’s curiosities: a creature able to framerun without any obvious natural means of doing so. It’s possible that the Piper is another such being, but we’ve never gotten close enough to him to be able to tell, nor has he volunteered the information. I suppose the universe is full of such mysteries: Muninn just happens to be one of them.”

“But why ‘Muninn’? How did Father Hildebrandt come up with that name?”

“It comes, my dear, from Norse mythology. Huginn and Muninn were two ravens that accompanied the Norse god Odin, or Wotan, in his wanderings. They flew about the world bringing him news. ‘Thought’ and ‘Memory’ are what the names mean in Old Norse. And since this bird didn’t seem to be particularly thoughtful, Father Hildebrandt thought ‘memory’ might suit him best. He certainly remembered where to fly in order to steal the Guarding Stones.” Luke chuckled aloud.

“But, you’ll be able to see how he is situated for yourself once you get to Rome; the good Abbot has him right there in his office, and he is, according to Brother Azarias, actually attempting to teach the bird Latin, of all things!

“But, to business. Sam has promised to leave the door open in the storage room — that’s the room depicted in the painting, So, once you’re through, things shouldn’t be quite as dark and ominous as they appear in this image. Would you like anything to eat before you go?”

“No, thank you. I just had breakfast! But won’t either of you be coming along with me?” Jill asked, looking pointedly at Polydora.

Polly smiled.

“No, we have already spoken with Brother Azarias and Father Hildebrandt, and have learned much,” said Polly, aloud. “Now it is your turn. You will like the abbot; he is very wise and very kind.”

“As I said, Sam is already with him,” said Luke, “and you’ll both be coming back together. I doubt, by the way, if you’ll need to take any  chocolate with you; Father Hildebrandt has some of the finest you’re likely ever to taste: fine Italian chocolate, and in great quantities! I’m sure Sam has already restocked his own supply….”

Jill allowed herself to be led to the painting by Polly. Mr. Luke retrieved her crystal ring from the safe in the wall and gave it to her. “When you return, we will likely have a surprise for you,” he said, and winked.

Jill put on the ring, turning it so that it touched her skin, and noted with satisfaction that the light in the painting before her had shifted. She sent a telepathic “see you soon!” to Polly, and then stepped through the painting.

It wasn’t pitch dark on the other side, but Jill was still unsteady on her feet when she arrived in the storage room. She almost immediately heard voices coming from the open door, along with an occasional squawk. She steadied herself against the wall for a moment, and then, when she felt well enough to walk, she stepped up to the door and peered into Father Hildebrandt’s office. She rapped twice on the door frame.

“Ah, that must be her now,” said a warm voice, and soon Sam and Father Hildebrandt were helping her out into the Italian afternoon sunlight.

“Welcome to Rome, my dear,” said the Abbot. “I am Father Hildebrandt.”

 

      [ To read Episode 15.2, click here…. ]

 

 

 

 

Jun 11

In the Company of Angels: Episode 14.2 – Smoke and Mirrors (cont.)

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 14.2 – Smoke and Mirrors (cont.)

 

“He’s the only one who can do that sort of thing, you know,” Luke said, turning to Jill. Brother Azarias had just stepped through the Renderer’s sketch of The Gallery.

“Do what sort of thing, Mr. Luke?” asked Jill.

“Just framerun a sketch of mine like it was his own. Even Sam can’t do that. I wonder sometimes just who and what Azarias — er, Brother Azarias — really is. It doesn’t seem like he follows the same rules as the rest of us mere mortals. And Charles and Brother Aran have both been very dodgy when it comes to answering questions about him — you know, where he came from, how long he has been with the Order, etc. Whenever such issues are brought up, they can both be quite irritating on the subject: they’ll just change the subject.

“But, that is neither here nor there. Azarias  told us to get back to our portal, so that is precisely what we shall do.” Luke walked over toward the edge of the Plaza and looked into the seething darkness of the chasm below them once more. Then he walked back to the monolith, stepped over to the unmarked side opposite the sketch he had made for Azarias, and began sketching anew.

“What do you think, Jill?” he asked after about a half hour. “Were the buildings this tall when we were down there?”

Jill had again watched him sketch with wonder. It was a gift she could not imagine having. “Yes, I think so,” she said, somewhat uncertainly.

“And was this how things looked to you when we first came through the painting?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Then, we should have all that we need here,” said Luke. “I know I can framerun this sketch, but I may need to help you with it. The key is for us to keep in constant contact, and to go slowly. Are you willing to try it?”

“Sure!” said Jill, although she didn’t feel nearly as confident as she tried to sound.

“Then grasp your crystal,” said Mr. Luke. Jill did so.

“Oh, wait, Mr. Luke! We can’t leave the raven behind!” Jill said, pointing to the basket near where she had been sleeping.

“Right you are! I’ll get the fellow! Now, I’m going to hold onto your hand as we go through the sketch. This may be more disorienting than you’re used to, but I promise you we’ll arrive safe and sound. Ready?”

“Ready!” said Jill.

Stepping through the sketch was much more gut-wrenching than had been the trip from the Gallery or either of her trips to Oxford and back, but Jill clenched her eyes shut, and before she knew it, she found herself once more aware of being at the foot of the buildings and the cliffs —  the ones  that she had first glimpsed in the painting of Orbaratus in the Gallery.

“The Gallery!” Jill thought, even as she realized that she was confused and disoriented by the jump through the sketch. “Oh, how I wish we were back there again, with Sam, and Mr. Luke, and…and Polly…” She knew the wish was futile, and that she was not thinking clearly.

But when at last she began to more fully recollect where she was, she realized that the wind was not as brisk down here at the base of the buildings. And it was darker. Light trickled down from far, far above them, and pale cyan and purple hues flitted up and down the buildings as high clouds passed overhead. It then dawned upon Jill that she was chewing on something. It was a piece of bittersweet chocolate. She looked up. Sam was there, smiling at her.

“I think you may be even worse than Mr. Luke!” he said, grinning. “Although, truth to tell, I’ve sometimes felt nearly as bad when I’ve had to framerun a Renderer’s sketch. No one should have to do that unless under extreme duress!”

Jill smiled. Sam sometimes trotted out thousand-dollar phrases that he had heard and liked and decided to make his own, and ‘extreme duress’ was clearly a new one that he had adopted recently.

“I think Mr. Luke would say the same thing about mazerunning with you, Sam. My impression is that it makes him feel even worse than I do now,” she said. “Although, frankly, I feel as if I’ve been on the roller-coaster of all roller-coasters, at the same time that I had a bad case of the  stomach flu!”

“Well, someday I’ll take you into the Maze, and then you can tell me if that’s better or worse.”

“No time soon, OK?”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, OK. But, even if it makes you feel bad, mazerunning ‘has its privileges’ as the saying goes. Why, it can sometimes allow one to do things that are little short of miraculous, if I do say so myself,” he said, with a gleam in his eyes. He blew on his fingernails and pretended to polish them against his lapel.

Miraculous?! What on earth have you done that would qualify as miraculous?!” asked Jill.

“Well, first, I must point out that we happen not to be on earth, but, for that, I’ll forgive you. Now, with regard to the question of miracles, see for yourself!” With that, Sam swept his arm out past them both and bowed deeply.

In the direction he was indicating, Jill saw two figures; both of whom looked familiar. The first she soon recognized as Mr. Luke. But he was bending over the second person, who appeared to be on the ground sleeping. Jill was still a bit disoriented, so it took her some time to realize that the person on the ground didn’t look quite right. Whoever it was, he or she appeared to be made entirely out of metal, almost like a robot or a statue….

Jill gasped. “It…it can’t be! Can it, Sam?!”

Sam smiled broadly. “Well, yes it can, and it is! It is Polydora herself, brought back from the very land of the…er…the living dead!”

Jill was dumbfounded. “But…but…she went into the passageway! She was locked in the caves with the Masters! How could she…?”

“It was Azarias,” Sam said, “not me, really. We went into the Maze together. He seemed to know things about the caves that I certainly didn’t, and although he wasn’t sure, he hoped that we would be able to find a way into the caverns and a way out again for both us and for Polly. He was pretty sure there were mirrored panels in the chamber somewhere, and once we started looking, we were able to find them!

“Polly was bound by the guarding stones, just as the Masters themselves were, and she was unconscious, and Azarias’ staff kept the Masters from harming her. We were able to pull her back with us into the Maze and bring her down here to the base of the cliffs. We also made sure not to leave the staff behind; without that, Polly never would have been able to drive the Masters back!

“She’s still pretty dopey, but Azarias seemed to think she’d be alright once we got her beyond the influence of the guarding stones.”

Jill, despite her weakness, managed to pull herself to her feet and, with Sam’s help, walked over to Poldyora’s side.

“Hello, little one,” said a familiar voice in Jill’s head. “Did you miss me?”

 

     [ To read Episode 15.1, click here…. ]

 

May 28

In the Company of Angels: Episode 13.2 – The Aftermath (cont.)

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 13.2 – The Aftermath (cont.)

Another hour passed before Jill began to stir. Luke had spent the time touching up the sketch and walking back and forth upon the plaza to keep warm; the sun, far away beyond thick clouds, was apparently setting, and the temperatures were beginning to drop.

Jill sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was startled for a moment as she surveyed the strange landscape around her, but then she remembered where she was.

“Mr. Luke?” she called.

“Yes, dear?” he said. He was a good distance away, near the edge of the plaza and looking down into the dark canyons beneath them.

“I’m sorry, I must have dozed off. Hasn’t Brother Azarias returned yet?”

“No, but he will in due time, I’m sure,” said Luke as he returned to the monolith.

Jill looked at the sketch, now far more detailed than it had been when she had drifted off. It truly was remarkable what Mr. Luke was capable of.

“The sketch is lovely! But what exactly does Azarias need it for?” asked Jill.

“He’ll tell us in his own good time, I’m sure,” said Mr. Luke, as he surveyed the drawing once more, “but there must be a very important reason for him to have requested it. Particularly since he wanted me to reproduce that precise moment, just as we were leaving The Gallery. I can’t imagine why that would be important. But, Azarias…er…Brother Azarias, doesn’t always explain things fully. He holds a lot back. My brother, Charles, has often said so.”

“Oh! You have a brother?” asked Jill. She yawned and stretched her arms.

“Yes. Charles is an artist as well, but he’s not part of the Order.”

“No? But you said he knows Brother Azarias. How do they know each other if not through the Order?”

“Charles works more with Father Hildebrandt and the Benedictines proper. I don’t know exactly in what capacity. It’s a different part of the same family, though, to be honest. We’re all trying to do the same sorts of things, just from different perspectives and with different tools.”

“But, what sorts of things, Mr. Luke? I mean, after today, I hardly know what it is we’re trying to do….”

Luke looked down at Jill. “We’re trying to do what is right, my dear. That’s all. It’s not always easy to tell what that might be, but today, I think we’ve seen what we can be up against. And, I must tell you, you have held up very well: very well indeed! Although I know I’m not someone with whom you are well acquainted yet, I wanted to tell you that I’m very proud of you and very happy that you were with us when…when….”

Mr. Luke turned away for a moment, and Jill again found herself tearing up. But just then they both heard a voice behind them.

“Luke, that is splendid! Bravo!” It was Azarias. “And…are you both sure that that was the precise scene of the gallery when you left it?”

“Yes, I certainly believe so,” said Luke.

“Jill?”

“Yes, Sir. That’s how things looked.”

“Marvelous! Then I intend to make immediate good use of your sketch, my fine Rendering friend,” said Azarias. “Once I am gone, I would like to ask you to begin work on a second sketch: one that will allow you both to return to the portal at the base of the cliffs. That is, the one that brought you here in the first place. Sam could take you there via the Maze, but he’s tied up at present. He will meet you down below, and although I anticipate no problems, if for any reason you should find the portal gone…”

Gone?! What do you mean, gone?!” asked Luke.

“Do not trouble yourself! It is quite likely that all shall be well. But, on the off chance that the portal is missing….”

“Yes? What should we do then?” asked Luke.

“I’d suggest waiting a bit, and if after, say, an hour, the portal has still not reopened, then you should gather everyone and return to my flat in London. Proceed from there to Rome. I don’t believe it will come to that, but if worse comes to worst, you may need Father Hildebrandt’s help and advice.”

“But shouldn’t we just return to The Gallery?”

“No, not to The Gallery under any circumstances, should you find the portal closed! Do you understand?” Azarias looked keenly, almost ferociously, at Luke.

“Well I don’t understand, not really, but we’ll certainly do as you say.”

“Good. Do not fear! All shall likely be well! And if that is indeed the case, l shall see you both again very shortly!” With that, Azarias clenched a sapphire in his hand, and, with no hesitation whatsoever, stepped into Luke’s sketch and was gone.

    o    o    o

When Azarias arrived at The Gallery, Luke was just disappearing into the painting of Orbaratus. Azarias moved toward the painting and briefly saw the four figures silhouetted against the ruined landscape of Polydora’s home world; then they faded and the painting looked once more as it always had.

Azarias glanced around at The Gallery. Everything appeared to be in order, but he knew that, within minutes, someone would almost certainly be breaking into the warehouse. Whoever it was would not be subtle, for within a very few hours, news of their work would have already traveled overseas and been reported to Father Hildebrandt. “And to myself,” Azarias thought, remembering the tricky position he was in. At this very moment, he was not only here, in The Gallery, but also in his London flat.

Time travel was always a bit unnerving, even to him. It was never something to be taken lightly.

All that Azarias could do was to await the Amenta and their agents, and to watch for them to make the first move. But he could at least try to sense whether anyone else was currently in The Gallery, or just outside of it. He closed his eyes, listening and “feeling” as intently as possible. All yet seemed quiet.

The Gallery, Azarias knew, was guarded against the Amenta themselves: the spirit creatures that were the bane of the Fratrum Simulacrorum. But the Amenta could recruit agents of their own: flesh and blood men and women willing to carry out their wishes whenever physical action was required. These they corrupted by whispering to them and persuading them to become agents of evil. It was usually a long and slow process: corrupting souls was not always easy. Yet every generation gave rise those who were more or less susceptible to the lies of the dark agents.

The Amenta themselves were always drawn to the crystals. Because the Gallery was protected, they were unable to enter it themselves, even if no one was present within. But their agents could. And what their agents were about to do, Azarias knew, was to burn the Gallery, and all that was in it, to the ground.

The Gallery, along with all of the paintings and other archives stored within the warehouse, would be a mass of charred rubble within a few hours. The loss of the paintings alone would be devastating to the Order, but what would ultimately be even worse, Azarias knew, was that whatever crystals were still in the warehouse would be taken. Whether their theft was planned for before the fire was started, or to be left for afterwards — when the stones could be sifted from the ruins of the building — Azarias did not know. He only knew that they were the primary target.

The framerunning sapphires were the key to reaching all worlds drawn or painted, whether those images existed on earth or in another universe entirely. The crystals were absolutely unique, and they could only be found on earth. The location of the mine that yielded them was kept as secret as the existence and location of the stones that had been recovered and safeguarded. Without them, there was no known way to framerun to another world or another time.

The Amenta, in order to be able to move their agents into other Iconic Realms, needed the crystals. And the Fratrum Simulacrorum was formed, in part, to prevent their obtaining them.

The long battle between these two adversaries had now spanned millennia. “And the battle will likely span even more before the final end of all things,” thought Azarias. He listened again and thought he heard noises coming from the stairwell that led up to the main floor of the Gallery. He looked around and found a full-length mirror near him. Grasping his crystal, he stepped into the mirror.

When the Gallery had been built, great effort had been made to insure that there were many, many mirrors scattered throughout the building. Mirrors were even placed on the inside of the safes that held crystals that were not currently in use. As a result, the first thing Azarias did once he was inside the Maze was to sift through the swirling, multifaceted panes that surrounded him, looking for the one that might open onto the crystal safe. It would be small, he knew, and dark, since no lights were kept on within it. He soon found one or two likely panes, and reached through these to feel around just outside of them. The second was the one he sought: within, he felt jewelry and loose stones. These he carefully retrieved and stored in his pockets.

Now that the sapphires were safe, he turned his attention back to what was happening elsewhere within and without the Gallery. Searching through pane after pane, he finally discovered one in which he saw two figures creeping up the fire-escape at the back of the warehouse. The men were dressed like construction workers, but each was carrying a large jerry can. “Likely filled with paraffin or petrol,” Azarias thought. Then he saw two more men in the stairwell; they, too, were carrying jerry cans, and they were climbing up the last steps to the second floor. Through a third pane  he saw a large van with at least one man in it, sitting behind the wheel. It was parked in the alley behind the Gallery.

“As I thought, these men are going to be none too subtle,” thought Azarias. “I have no weapons, but if I’m to stop them at all, I haven’t a moment to lose….”

 

       [ To read Episode 14.1, click here…. ]

 

 

May 22

In the Company of Angels: Episode 13.1 – The Aftermath

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 13.1 – The Aftermath

When she realized that Polly was gone — gone for good — Jill collapsed upon the stone plaza floor, sobbing. During the actual march of Polydora and the Ferrumari people into the gateway, Jill was too caught up with the singing and with Polly’s last command to her to fully comprehend what was happening. The wave of triumph from the ancient servant race of Obaratus had carried Jill along. Theirs was the song of a people who had reclaimed their ancient homeland, and who had also, for the second time in their history, overcome an evil that might easily have spread to other planets and destroyed other peoples, cultures, and worlds, including Jill’s own.

But now everything was finished, and the song of the Ferrumari was hushed. In the eerily still aftermath, Jill could not contain her grief at the loss of her friend. It was the loss of a connection to another soul that she had not felt, she realized through her sobs, since her father had disappeared more than a year before. Now, with this new loss, the old grief came back to Jill, and she felt more deeply abandoned then than she thought anyone could ever feel.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up. It was Sam. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Tears had welled up in his eyes as well, and she felt waves of grief flowing from him as he tried hard to fight back his tears. He stood with her for a few moments, unable to speak, and Jill saw, through her own tears, another figure approaching them both. It was Azarias.

“Sam, I’m going to need your help,” the tall man said softly.

Sam nodded, and Jill sensed a flood of relief coming from him. Having a job to do, she realized, allowed him to push his sorrow away for a time. It would be back, he seemed to know, but this was how he had learned to cope with his own pain. Jill wondered, then, what Sam might have suffered through on other framerunning journeys. Or was this way of coping related to something else? Jill knew Sam lived with his uncle. She had never asked about his parents before, and she suddenly felt like she had been a very poor friend.

Sam squeezed her shoulder again and said, in a thick voice, “I’ll be back soon,” and then he walked with Azarias away from her and toward the closed gateway. Jill watched them as they went. Azarias was speaking to Sam in hushed tones.

Mr. Luke came over to her and helped her stand up. He, too, was struggling with his own grief, and this grief surrounded him and pressed down on him like great iron weights. He had likely known Polydora, Jill realized, longer than anyone else — other than Azarias, perhaps — and Mr. Luke had probably spent more time with Polly than any other human being ever had.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Luke,” Jill said to him. She stretched out her arms, and Luke leaned down and hugged her tightly. When he finally let go, Jill saw that tears were flowing freely down his cheeks. He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his face. Then he blew his nose loudly.

“There. I needed that,” he said. “I can’t remember when the last time was that I cried. And I hope it is a very long time before I have cause to do so again. I’m afraid this was not in the least the sort of trip I had planned for your first experience of framerunning…I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry….”

He covered his eyes and the tears again streamed down his face.

“It’s alright, Mr. Luke,” Jill said, and she hugged him again. There was something about realizing that her own pain was shared by all of them that helped make the loss of her friend ever so slightly more bearable. A part of her changed forever at that moment, and Jill realized suddenly that her tears were already drying in the gusty Orbaratan breezes.

Azarias and Sam returned, and Jill noticed that Sam had a strange look in his eyes.

“Luke,” said Azarias, “I know that we all need some time to recover from what has happened, but there are a couple of things that need attending to, and they simply cannot wait. Forgive me, Jill….

“Luke, I need you to do something: two things, in fact. First, I need for you, with Jill’s help, to try to recollect, to the best of your ability, the actual moment of your coming through the painting of Orbaratus from The Gallery. Then I need you to sketch that moment. Think in terms of an image taken from the vantage point of someone watching you all go through the painting from a location elsewhere in The Gallery. It’s very important that you keep that intent in mind as you make the sketch, alright?”

“You mean the intent that the sketch represent that precise time?”

“Exactly.”

“Alright, that shouldn’t be too difficult,” answered Luke.

“And, Jill…” said Azarias, “I know we’ve not formally met, but that will have to wait. Right now, I need you to help me with something.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I need you to watch Luke very carefully and help make sure that he gets the image right. I want you both to recall as many details as possible, but only those that you are both quite certain about; if you don’t remember something clearly, don’t include it in the sketch.”

“Where do you want me to sketch it?” asked Luke.

“On any suitable surface. This one over here, for instance.” Azarias gestured toward one of the monolithic pillars in the plaza that had not been toppled by the earthquakes, and that had smooth stone surfaces on two of its four sides.

“Sam and I need to attend to another task. We will have to do some mazerunning while you’re both working on the sketch. When we come back, I’ll need you to do a second sketch, but for now, concentrate on the one of The Gallery with all of you in it, including the painting of Orbaratus. It needs to be complete enough to framerun safely.”

“By all of us?”

“No, by me alone. But, because I wasn’t there, it likely needs to be more detailed than if you were running it yourself.”

“It won’t take more than an hour or so,” said Mr. Luke.

“Good. That will suffice. We should be back by then.”

“Do you mind my asking what this is all about?” asked Luke.

“I can explain later, but not now; time is pressing. All will be made clear….”

Mr. Luke nodded. He reached into his drover coat and once more pulled out a piece of chalk. Then he turned to the monolith and studied the first of its two blank sides. Jill watched Azarias and Sam walk together toward an adjacent wall made of the metallic mineral with which the Ferrumari had built so much of their city. They spoke for a moment, and then quickly disappeared into the wall together.

“What’s it like, Mr. Luke? I mean, being in the Maze?”

Mr. Luke shuddered. “It’s not like anything else I can describe. Very unpleasant: for me, anyway. I’m sure at some point Sam will take you through the Maze, but you should never, ever, try it on your own! It’s far too dangerous! It is very, very confusing, and it’s easy to mistake real images and real exits within the Maze for reflections, and vice versa. Have you ever been in a hall of mirrors at a circus or a carnival? You know, the sort of thing they have in a ‘fun house’?”

“Yes, once, when I was very small. I went with my father.”

“Do you remember how confusing it was?”

“Yes, I think so. Sometimes you’d walk right into a mirror, thinking it was a way out, and at other times, you’d be unable to find a way out because you thought it was just a reflection.”

“I couldn’t have described it better myself,” said Luke. “Take that, and multiply it by about a thousand, and you’d have a sense of how confusing the Maze can be.”

“But not to Sam?”

“Apparently not. But that’s because that’s his gift…his particular talent. He never seems to be confused by what he encounters within the Maze. But he would find — and in fact does find — your ability to feel and sense the emotions and thoughts of those around you to be just as strange and hard to understand.

“But, let’s get back to the business at hand. Let’s think about this sketch. When we first came through the painting, I know Sam went through first, correct?”

“Yes, and then came Polly and then me….” Involuntarily, Jill’s eyes filled with tears once again.

“It’s alright, dear. I’m having the same trouble. Just take a deep breath….”

Jill took several deep breaths. “OK, I’m better now. I’m sorry. Alright, let’s see…I was holding onto Polly’s hand when we came through the frame….”

Luke began sketching while Jill sat down on the plaza stones near the monolith and watched him. First he drew in the shape of the painting itself upon its easel. Then he roughed in a figure wearing a drover coat — himself — with Polly and Jill standing just past him, walking forward. Then he consulted with Jill on what other items had been in the jumble of odds and ends surrounding the painting and the easel at the time. As they talked, more and more of the sketch took shape. Soon all of the lines were in place, and Luke used one lighter and one darker piece of chalk to begin sketching in the shading of the scene more fully.

After about an hour, as he had predicted, Luke stopped and stepped back from the pillar. Before him, on the flat, greyish surface of the stone, was a drawing that, far from being a simple sketch, was approaching a very realistic scene.

“Azarias should find that workable,” Luke said aloud. He looked over and discovered that Jill had fallen asleep where she had been sitting. He stepped over to her, took off his drover coat and spread it out beside her. Then he gently lifted her over onto the coat, covering her with it to keep her warm.

 

       [ To read Episode 13.2, click here…. ]

May 14

In the Company of Angels: Episode 12.2 – The Crucible (cont.)

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 12.2 – The Crucible (cont.)

 It was then that Jill, desperate to find something, anything, that she might be able to do, happened to glance down at the surface of the plaza. And there she saw an object that she didn’t recognize. It appeared to be a small fruit, perhaps an unripe apple or a gourd. It was lying upon the stone floor. She knew not whence it had come, but its appearance was odd, almost as if it glowed with some inner light. The effect was all the more pronounced given the return of the Amenta and their resumed darkening of the plaza..

Jill reached down and picked up the object, holding it up so that she could examine it better. And as she did so, shrieks of pain and horror erupted from the throng of the Masters standing before them. Not understanding what was happening, she looked up questioningly, only to discover that Azarias, Mr. Luke, and Polydora were just as puzzled as she. Jill stood silently and watched, and as she did so, the Masters quailed and began to scramble backwards, retreating from the five small figures before them.

“What has happened?!” asked Azarias. “Polly, did you do something to them?”

“No,” she replied, “I have done nothing. But there has been a great surge of light that has caused the Masters to quail. I know not whence this light has come….”

All of the defenders of the gateway looked around them, and Sam whistled aloud. “Look in Jill’s hands! I recognize that! I picked it from a tree when I was chasing the raven in Oxford.”

They all gazed at the small, unripe orb that Jill clasped yet, and even as they watched it, the light that it emitted grew.

“You brought this from Oxford?!” Luke asked, astonished.

“Oh, no, not from Oxford. It was on some other world; one I travelled to to retrieve the raven.”

“And what was the name of that world?” asked Azarias.

“We never asked…did we, Jill?”

“No, Sir, we didn’t. It was a place the Professor had written about, in one of his books, I think. I picked the fruit up from the plaza just now. Sam, it must have fallen out of your pocket!”

Azarias gently lifted the fruit from Jill’s hand and held it aloft. As he did so, the Masters quailed once more and cowered away from them.

“Polly, what do your empathic senses tell you about this curious object?” asked Azarias

Polydora reached out and brushed six delicate fingers across the orb. The sensation she experienced was like none that had ever come to her, and she was shaken to her core.

“I have never encountered anything so…so….”

“So what, Polly?” Asked Mr. Luke.

“So…holy,” replied the Ferrumari.

“But why would it have such an effect on the Masters?” asked Sam.

“Because, Sam, the Masters are utter slaves to evil, and, if Polly is correct, this fruit is something untainted by evil. It is entirely pure and unsullied. They cannot bear even the sight of such as this.” said Azarias.

“But would it be enough to drive them back into the caverns?” asked Polydora.

“I do not know, for even now its effect could be waning,” said Azarias. “My greatest fear now is that we may be attacked from behind even as we attempt to drive the Masters back into the caverns. The Amenta will not relent; they have planned this event for centuries, if not millennia. If they begin once more to assail us in force, to separate us and confuse us, then we may not even be able to speak amongst ourselves to plan our actions. Even now their numbers have almost fully blackened the sky.”

They all looked around them. Aside from the light of the crystals and the golden apple, plus the flicker of flame from the open fissures, everything around them was now in total darkness. The Masters themselves appeared to have overcome their first dismay at the sight of the golden fruit, and they appeared, by the light of the flames that were growing once more around them, to be organizing for some new attempt to break free.

In that moment, and when all seemed to be most in doubt, Polydora knew with certainty what she must do.

“Jill, give me your hand,” she said. Jill reached up and took the hand of the silver angel before her. And when she did so, she heard Jill speak to her gently, lovingly, within her head, “you must help me call forth my people. They are here already, but we must bring them here in their full glory and in the greatest numbers that we can. Do you remember their singing when first you beheld the painting of Orbaratus?”

“Yes, Polly,” answered Jill.

“Then we must ask for their help. Listen for their song, and ask them to surround and support us. Ask them to drive back the Amenta and force the Masters to retreat.”

Jill did as Polydora bid her, and she knew that the Ferrumari was doing the same. Almost immediately, she heard singing all around them and saw flitting lightning-bug sparks swirling and dancing, first here, then there. They came closer, and ever closer, and behind them were thousands — nay, millions — of others! They packed closely in around them, and their light pushed the black mass of the Amenta back and up into the sky, away from the plaza’s surface.

Even as the lights increased and the darkness waned, Jill glanced around them and saw, now, not just points of light, but light coalescing into figures: tall figures that shone out in the darkness; great winged beings of radiance and power! They stretched behind her and behind Polydora upon the plaza: a throng so great that she could not see even where the plaza ended. And the Amenta remained thrust up into the sky and away from all of them. Their howling became shrieks of pain as the light pierced them.

“Polly, I think they’ve come! They’ve all come!” she thought to her friend. Polly squeezed her hand. “Keep them with us, little one, for as long as they are needed. And do not stop listening to and joining in their song, if you are able. Whatever happens, little one, you must do this! I am relying on you; don’t fail me!”

Then Polydora, the last of the Ferrumari, removed her hand from Jill’s, and placed within it, instead, the guarding stone she had been holding aloft. She turned and stepped then before Azarias and grasped the staff that he held. They looked for a moment into each other’s eyes, and then Azarias bowed and released the staff to her.

Polly turned, and, raising high the silver shaft with its brilliant blue star, she began marching straight toward the leader of the Masters. As she did so, all of her people, the luminescent angel spirits of the Ferrumari, gathered around her. They were a thundering ocean of light as they flowed forward, unstoppable, toward the gateway.

Osor screamed and gave way before them. The other Masters  broke ranks and fought each other to be the first to reach the passageway and return to the blackness of the caverns below.

Onward marched Polydora, and Azarias raised his voice to be heard above the singing of the Ferrumari, which was now perceived by them all. “Follow Polydora! Follow her with the crystals! We must close the stone gates behind the Masters before they have another chance to escape!”

Jill raised high the gem that Polly had placed in her hand, and she continued singing the song of the Ferrumari, drawing ever more of the angelic creatures into the flood of light that surrounded Polydora and all of them.

The song of the Ferrumari became ever louder, and even the stones beneath Jill’s feet began to  tremble with the chorus of voices. Osor, the last to back his way through the gateway, just as he was the first to leave it, would not flee, but instead he continued to try to hold his ground against Polydora and the angelic Ferrumari. But they would not relent, nor even slacken their pace. Instead, Polly increased her stride, driving the leader of the Masters back, back into the cavern. Now Polly herself was within the passageway, and while Jill expected her to stop, she realized then that if she did so, Osor would be able to escape once more.

Azarias looked at Jill and, within her head, she heard a voice speak a single word: “Courage!”

Azarias reached for the crystal that Jill was holding aloft, and, signaling to Luke, he strode to one side of the gateway while Luke went to the other. They each put their shoulders to the sides of the split stone slab, and slowly the two halves began to swing back toward each other. The luminous Ferrumari who were not already within the passageway with Polydora stood back and allowed the doors to close. The booming as the slab sealed shut was barely audible above the ongoing chorus of the Ferrumari, but once the gateway was closed, Luke and Azarias stepped back, holding the crystals aloft so that they could see where they needed to be replaced.

As they did so, one of the tallest of the angelic Ferrumari stepped before them. The glowing figure wore a crown upon his brow, and he bowed first to Azarias and then to Luke. Then he held out his hands to Azarias, and his lips appeared to move, though none but Azarias could interpret his words.

Azarias bowed in his turn and placed the crystal he had been holding into the hands of the Ferrumari. Luke did likewise. Then the angelic king turned and replaced the stone on the right-hand side, and then, lifting himself high into the air upon his wings, he replaced the gem above the stone doorway. He dropped back down to the plaza, and bowed low to Azarias once more. Then he stood upright and raised his arms to the throngs of his people. The chorus swelled to a crescendo: the very air throbbed with the power of so many voices singing at once! Then the king dropped his hands  back down to his sides.

As he did so, the song of the Ferrumari ceased. Jill looked around her and saw the corporeal forms of Polly’s people diminish, break into tiny points of light, and then vanish.

The four travelers from earth were left all alone upon the Plaza of the Masters, and Polydora and all of her forebears were gone.

 

       [ To read Episode 12.2, click here…. ]

 

May 07

In the Company of Angels: Episode 12.1 – The Crucible

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 12.1 – The Crucible

 

As Polydora stood before the first of the Masters, in the midst of the seething cyclone of the Amenta, she saw a flash of lightning and heard thunder crack nearby. The first of the Masters had advanced a step toward her, and she knew of no weapons with which she might defend herself. But she felt a sudden change in the air that whipped around her, and sensed, rather than saw, that there were beings surrounding her other than just the Amenta. She shut her eyes for a moment and reached out to discover what new horror might be joining with the demonic hosts already present.

But all she sensed was light. These beings, whoever they might be, cast a pale, very faint glow, like the glimmer of lightning bugs in the gloaming, and they were gathering around her. She listened past the roaring of the wind and the evil spirit howlings, and she heard music. She recognized the singing: these were the voices of her own people, the chorus of the Ferrumari that she had last heard when she and Jill were standing side by side in The Gallery back on earth.

Her people had come, at least in spirit. Those who had lived on this planet thousands of years before her had returned here, now, to bring her hope and courage.

Then, too, Polydora heard a shout from the open plaza behind her. She turned and saw, through the swirling whirlwind of the Amenta, two human figures sprinting toward her. The first of these, the tallest of the two, seemed to glow silver in the twilight, and he held before him a staff upon which was set a blue star that flashed and flared. Lightning struck the staff, and the blue fire then became so bright that she could not bear to look upon it, and the Amenta near it shrieked and fled. Then Polly recognized Azarias, but in a form she had never known before; the fury of his approach and the expression on his face were those of an avenging angel, and he was not to be withstood.

Thus came Azarias and Luke to Polydora’s side, and with their arrival, all three turned their gaze once more upon the first of the Masters, who had remained just a few paces outside of the gateway. Behind him they now discerned new shapes mustering, with horns and wings and claws grappling as they strove to exit from the cramped passageway. But they could go no further, for the first of the Masters — who was clearly their leader — stood his ground before this trio of beings that dared to withstand his liberation.

Yet, they were all at a stalemate. Azarias lifted high his staff, and the blue crystal atop it blazed forth. The Master flinched, but he did not retreat, and the Amenta redoubled their howling. Although they could not come near Azarias and his staff, the Amenta yet clustered around the gateway and the three standing before it, attempting to seal it off from the rest of the plaza. And Polydora soon sensed why.

For, past the sound and the fury of the demonic forces surrounding them, she felt another presence: two, in fact. But the one that most brought her joy was the certainty that Jill had returned and that she was making her way forward to the gateway. Sam she also felt, and she could even detect the slight stirrings in her consciousness that spoke of the raven in his arms. But Jill’s coming was, like Azarias’, one of light and of hope to the last of the Ferrumari.

Polly did not turn to watch the approach of Jill, nor of Sam. Rather, she called out to the singing throng of her own people and asked for their protection for her friends. And they answered her, in waves of emotion, assuring her that they would beat back the Amenta and allow the two safe passage to the gateway.

But now the leader of the Masters spoke out once more in a single word of command, and the howling of the Amenta diminished to a low moan. In this lull in the storm’s fury, Azarias spoke.

“You have no place in this world, Osor, nor in any other!” His voice was like thunder. The language he uttered was of the Masters themselves, and only Polydora and this creature whom Azarias had named Osor understood his words.“Return to the place prepared for you in the twilight of your people, for you shall not to wield your will here nor upon any other world!”

Osor retorted: “I know you, shaman! You have no authority over me nor mine. This planet belongs to the Imperaferrum, not to some toddling mage from an infant world. Begone, lest you, too, be destroyed, like all of those who have yet stood against me!”

“All of those, Osor? Did I not thrust you down into your pit after you destroyed your own world? Did not the Ferrumari throng upon this very plaza to cast you and yours into perpetual shackles? You have no place here, broken soul. Go back into the darkness and make reparations for your sins!”

At this exchange Polydora was dumbstruck. She gazed in wonder at Azarias. How could the leader of the Masters know Azarias?! But there was no time for questions. Osor spread his leathern wings, swept them down so as to lift his body a few feet above the plaza, and then he crashed down upon the paving stones, his iron-like cloven feet striking the earth like twin anvils. Where he landed, fissures formed and spread. Flames leapt up from the cracks, and these soon surrounded Polly, Luke, and Azarias.

By now, Sam, Jill, and the captive raven had pressed their way forward through the wall of Amenta howlers, and they caught their breath as they came up behind the others. Jill had come first, led, as she felt, by invisible hands. And despite the threatening swirl of blackness that was the host of the Amenta, none of them interfered with Jill or Sam; in fact, they parted before them as if driven back by unseen assailants.

“We’re right behind you!” yelled Sam through the roar and the crackling of the flames that had just sprouted up and encircled the others, “and we have the Guarding Stones!”

Azarias turned and saw Sam through the flames. Then Polydora heard Azarias’ voice in her head telling her, “They have retrieved both of the stolen stones. We must now find a way to drive the Masters back toward the mountain. Only with the door fastened behind them and the stones once more secured will they be subdued.”

“Begone, Mage, if you would live!” roared Osor. Azarias and all of the others turned and looked at the hideous creature once more. “You are of no concern to us…yet. But we have much to say to our slave, this pathetic Ferrumari who dares to stand before us!

“This creature belongs to us. She is the last of her cursed race, for so our messengers tell us. But we are ever merciful to our servants. We shall end her life here and now. And when she is gone, Orbaratus will be rid of our failed experiment. We shall rebuild our armies anew on this world, and then we shall conquer yours, Shaman, as well as many others! Great will be the wailing of your women and children when the Imperaferrum claim them, as we will claim the lives of all of you here if you remain!”

“Sam, give one of the two Guarding Stones to Luke, and the other to Polydora,” said Azarias. The flames had now died back and the five of them, plus the raven, were gathered together in a knot, around which the Amenta swirled in an ever-tightening circle.

Sam shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve the two gems. He couldn’t quite reach them, so he turned his pocket inside out, spilling the sapphires onto the ground along with one of the pieces of fruit that he had plucked when chasing the raven. The gems bounced on the ground and came to rest beside him, with one of them nearly tipping into a crack that had formed in the stones of the plaza. Both of the blue gems were now glowing with an electric light, just like the crystal atop Azarias’ staff. Sam grabbed them and handed one to Luke and one to the Ferrumari. Then they all turned back toward the leader of the Masters, holding the gems aloft.

The creature paused, and seemed to be struggling to move. His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish gasping for oxygen out of water. His forked tongue flicked out of his mouth. Then the flames that had erupted around him were suddenly quenched, and the moaning of the Amenta ceased completely, leaving only the roar of the wind and distant peals of thunder.

Osor struggled, and then he roared! The sound of his voice appeared to loosen, for a moment, whatever it was that was beginning to bind him. The other Masters came up from behind him, but they, too, were struggling against some  unseen force.

“The Guarding Stones have slowed them, but the Masters’ strength is growing fast,” shouted Azarias to the others. “If we had the third stone in hand, we might be able to drive them back, but it is still embedded in the framework of the gateway.”

“Brother Azarias,” shouted Jill, “we brought back the raven that stole the other stones in the first place. Would it help if we could get the bird to steal the last of the gems?”

“Not if he’d just try to take it back to Oxford!” Sam yelled back.

Azarias looked down at the basket and then at Polydora. “The guarding stones bind and hold,” he shouted for them all to hear. “We dare not risk the removal of the third, even if is not situated exactly where we might wish it to be. The stone atop my staff repels, it does not bind. With it we might drive the Masters forward, but we can never drain them of the energy that has already built up within them. For that, the Three must remain, and they must be set amidst the gateway to hold the Masters in place once the door is closed once more.

“But how can we drive them back?” Azarias asked aloud, as if consulting his own memories, “For even now the combined strength of the Three plus my staff seems insufficient….”

They all looked once more upon the misshapen creatures before them. These remained subdued, but it seemed clear that this was only a temporary stalemate. Even now, the leader of the Masters shook his head and roared again. The Amenta returned his roar by resuming their howls and shrieks. They began diving around and between the five who yet held the Masters in check.

It was then that Jill, desperate to find something, anything, that she might be able to do, happened to glance down at the surface of the plaza….

 

       [ To read Episode 12.2, click here…. ]

 

 

Apr 30

In the Company of Angels: Episode 11.2 – The Broken Gate (cont.)

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 11.2 – The Broken Gate (cont.)

“I guess I don’t understand. Whatever would drive the Amenta to destroy a world…any world?!” Luke asked Azarias. They were passing through the flat in London , and Luke was once again downing a mouthful of chocolate. Azarias glanced at the letters on the table, noting that none had been taken other than Luke’s.

Azarias was, Luke noted with some envy, apparently untroubled by the act of framerunning. But it then occurred to Luke that he had never been entirely sure into which of the three primary categories of the Order the older man fell. He knew that he had some Empathic capabilities, and was also capable of Rendering images; perhaps he had Navigator skills as well. “Some people have all the luck,” he thought to himself as he downed another mouthful of chocolate. “I just know I’m going to weigh 300 pounds by the time I’m his age,” he thought ruefully.

From Father Hildebrandt’s “squirrel’s nest” of a storage room, Azarias had retrieved a staff that appeared to be wrought entirely of matte silver. Atop the rather plain shaft was a large blue crystal. Azarias had said that they’d need it, but he had not elaborated further, fearing to waste too much time on their return to Orbaratus.

“I’m sorry, what was your question?” asked Azarias.

“My question is: what is the point? That is, of the Amenta getting an entire planet to destroy itself?”

“Ah! That might better be asked of Father Hildebrandt than myself; it is more in his line, you might say.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, because it has to do with the nature of evil: of what it seeks and of how it grows.”

“That’s pretty heady stuff…”

“Yes indeed! But, since we need to find your portal — where is it, by the way? — let me answer you succinctly. What are the Amenta after, you ask? Souls. That’s all. It’s really that simple.”

Souls?!”

“Souls. I’ll explain more when we have a better opportunity, but where is this portal? I am unable to discern it, even though I am holding one of the sapphires.”

Luke looked around the room; he still had his ring on, and was only confused for a moment. The grey light from Orbaratus was almost identical to that coming through one of the living room windows, and the portal was in front of one of these, making it difficult to pick out from the background.

“There it is,” he said, pointing.

“Ah! Well then, shall we?”

Luke looked through the portal before he stepped through, and he was glad that he did so. “There’s something wrong,” he said. “The horizon is wrong.”

They looked through the glowing frame and saw the plaza on Orbaratus; but it was as if a giant had tilted it upon its side.

“Either the world through the portal is undergoing some tremendous upheaval,” said Azarias, “or your base image sketch has broken away from its moorings and fallen upon its side.”

“I’m guessing the latter,” said Luke, “although I drew it upon a huge block of stone and it would have taken quite a blow to fell it. We suffered an earthquake just before I made the sketch; I wonder if there has been another since I left?”

“We shall soon see,” said Azarias. And with that he stepped through the portal, found gravity to be pulling him sideways, and thus half-rolled and half-crawled out onto the plaza. Luke followed right behind him.

What they saw when they regained their bearings shocked them both. The plaza was swarming with black shadows, and a roaring and howling filled their ears. As they stood, they perceived the gateway at the other end of the plaza, and it appeared to be the nexus of all of the turmoil and confusion. Yet, within that heart of  darkness, they could yet perceive a single bright figure, standing alone: it was Polydora.

“Come,” said Azarias, “there is not a moment to lose.”

    o o o

The raven had been put into a wicker basket with plenty of openings that would allow the bird to breathe, and even to intermittently eye its captors reproachfully. It croaked and clicked at them, and at least once, Jill could swear, it said something that sounded like Latin, although she couldn’t identify the words used.

Sam had initially entangle himself in the selfsame blanket that Jill and the Professor had prepared for the bird when he dived through the portal. There were several moments of sheer panic and confusion when both he and the raven had come careening through the canvas at nearly the same time.

Somehow, they had managed to isolate the bird from the boy, and the former was held tightly until a suitable repository for it could be found. The Professor had discovered an old basket that a friend had brought him back from Ethiopia a few years before. It was a pretty thing, and something he rather hated to part with, but he had no qualms in offering it up for the bird’s safekeeping.

The three of them, with raven in tow, had returned to the attic once the bird was safely tucked into his temporary home. The painting of Orbaratus has been turned around and uncovered. Jill knew that time was pressing, and that they’d likely broken every Framerunner rule in taking the Professor into their confidence, but she somehow sensed that it would be alright in the end.

“Professor, I wanted to ask you, where did you get this painting? I mean, the one we used to come here?”

“It was given to me by a friend at Oxford. Painted by a dystopian writer: one named Acasi Simaov, if memory serves. I don’t believe his works ever caught on, but my friend liked the painting and he bought it at an estate sale. He thought I’d like it since I had been working on books on space travel to other worlds. It’s a strange painting, and I never got around to framing it or hanging it, which is why it is still here in the attic.”

“Well, Sir, if you ever decide you don’t want it, I know of a group of people who would be interested in keeping it safe for you,” said Sam. “I don’t know who is in charge there these days, but let me write them a note and jot down an address for you.”

The Professor brought him an envelope, some paper and a pencil, and Sam wrote a quick explanation to the Abbot Primate of the Benedictine order, outlining in general terms that the painting was of Orbaratus and might need safekeeping. Then he added the address of the Monastery de Sant’Anselmo to the outside of the envelope.

“There, Sir,” he said to the Professor. “If you ever decide to part with it, just pop your own note in with mine and send the painting with the envelope to that address. It’s entirely up to you, of course, and without access to a crystal, it’s unlikely that the painting could cause any further mischief. But, ya never know….”

Then there came the awkward moment of having to say their goodbyes.

“I wish we had more time for me to ask more questions,” said the Professor, “but I also know that to do so might cause even more harm than may already have been done. I shall have to either hope to see you again some day, or to spend some time speculating, for my own benefit, what framerunning might be like. In any event, it has certainly been a very interesting and thought-provoking afternoon!”

With that, Jill and Sam bid the Professor the best of luck with all of his works, clenched tightly hold of their crystals, and disappeared into the painting of Orbaratus. The Professor rubbed his eyes once he was sure that they were gone, and gone for good. He then left the painting as it sat for the remainder of the day and all of the next. Thereafter, he boxed it up and shipped it to Rome, where it came, in due time, to be in the hands of Father Hildebrandt.

        o o o

When Jill and Sam arrived back upon the Plaza of the Masters with the raven and basket in tow, they were astonished at the change. The howling and roaring that had greeted Luke and Azarias was, if anything, louder still, and thunder, wind, and lightning had blown up from the south. They, too, could see that all of the movement and noise centered near the gateway at the other end of the plaza, and they knew that’s where they would be needed. They could not make out precisely what was happening, but they saw two figures heading toward the maelstrom before them.

“I think that’s Mr. Luke!” yelled Sam as he picked up the basket, “and I’m betting that’s Azarias with him!”

They narrowed their eyes against the gusting wind, and Jill was forced to put her hands over her ears to try to block out the howling. She was feeling even more queasy than usual, and although Sam had immediately started toward the gateway, when he looked back at her and saw how pale she was, he returned and fed her some chocolate.

“You gonna be OK?” he yelled in her ear.

“I think so. But that noise; it’s driving me crazy!” said Jill.

“Just Howlers, but more than I’ve ever heard at once. And you usually don’t see them, ever, in the daylight. They’re the things that look like flying sheets of black tissue paper, and they’re thick as smoke over by the gateway. We need to get over there, because we have the two crystals that the raven stole. Let me know when you feel well enough to walk….”

“We shouldn’t wait,” Jill yelled back at him. “I’ll be alright. Let’s just go!”

They turned back toward the gateway and followed Mr. Luke and Azarias into the heart of the storm.

 

       [ To read Episode 12.1, click here…. ]

 

Apr 02

In the Company of Angels: Episode 9.2 – The Renderer (cont.)

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 9.2 – The Renderer (cont.)

 

“Yes, I’m afraid I do,” said Azarias, his brow furrowing. “What is it about the Jonsson family? Well, we can’t overly concern ourselves with that issue at present. Pray continue.”

Luke picked up the tale, including Sam’s loss of one of the crystals and its recovery by Jill. Both Azarias and Father Hildebrandt were alarmed to hear that it had been out of Sam’s possession for as long as it had, and they were not surprised to hear that the Amenta had gathered to try to take the gem.

“Sam calls them ‘spooks’, or just ‘howlers’ of course, but we all know that they are the vanguard of a much greater Darkness,” said Azarias, “That was a close call! But thereafter, you invited Miss Jonsson to visit you at the Gallery. Why in the world would you do that without consulting me?”

“Because Sam knows her,” said Luke, “and he was sure she had seen too much to dismiss without a great deal of additional explanation. He also, I believe, has good instincts for people, despite not being an Empath himself. In addition, Polydora believed that Sam would have great difficulty dissembling over the events at Jill’s home, since they are such good friends. I took a chance; and it paid off, as you’ll soon hear.”

Luke continued his tale, explaining how Jill had come to the Gallery and had been instantly identified by Polly not only as an Empath, but as an extraordinarily gifted one.

“Polly claimed she had never encountered anyone other than you, Azarias, who had the ability to see as far or as clearly.”

Azarias and Father Hildebrandt looked at each other, and Luke suspected that a quiet telepathic exchange had taken place. But it only lasted a moment.

“Please, Luke, do continue,” said Father Hildebrandt, turning back toward him.

Luke described the trip to Orbaratus, Polly’s recognition that things were amiss, the trip to the Plaza of the Masters, and the discovery that one of the three guarding stones was missing. At this both Azarias and Father Hildebrandt became alarmed.

“It is, then, as we feared,” said Azarias. “The events here have been a diversion; the real drama is about to play out on Orbaratus, and we will have to do everything in our power to get that stone back into place if we are to avoid catastrophe.”

“Then you know about the stones?” asked Luke.

“Know about them? Yes indeed! But tell us what happened once you had discovered that a gem was missing.”

Luke mentioned the earthquake, the raven, and his decision to allow Sam and Jill to try to follow the bird and retrieve the stone.

“I understood the risks, but we could not leave Jill alone with a crystal on her; that would have put her in danger, since she has not yet been placed under protection.”

Azarias looked up at Father Hildebrandt. “We’ll need to remedy that as soon as possible.”

“Agreed,” said the Abbot.

Luke continued. “I believe that Sam and Jill, working together as a team, should be as capable as anyone of finding the bird and the guarding stone. I also felt urgently that I needed to warn both of you and seek advice. For I could only deduce the gem’s significance; I could not be certain of it. The situation called for us all to split up in order to save time.”

“But what of Polydora? Did she accompany Sam and Jill, or did she return to the Gallery?” Azarias leaned forward with an anxious look on his face as he asked the question, as did Father Hildebrandt. Luke wasn’t sure why the issue was so important to them.

“She remained on Orbaratus,” he said.

Both of the older men appeared visibly relieved. “She should certainly be able to keep anything worse from happening on her homeworld, and much better so than anyone else under the circumstances,” said Azarias, “But she doesn’t really understand what may be coming, and we mustn’t leave her there alone for too long, particularly if the Masters are indeed showing signs of stirring.”

“So that is what is happening?” asked Luke, “The Masters — the ones behind the stone gate — are awakening because the guarding stone was removed? As I said, I deduced that something of the sort could possibly occur, once Polly had fully translated the verses above the door for us. They were certainly a warning, even though they were written onto the stone lintel thousands of years ago.”

Azarias smiled. “Indeed, you surmised correctly. And that is precisely why the verses were left over the gateway in the first place. Yet, the Masters should remain restrained as long as only one of the stones has been prised away. They may stir, and they may even be able to regain a small measure of wakefulness, but the gate will hold against them — at least for a while.”

“But there is still much that you do not know, Luke, and at this point, despite our need for haste in returning to Orbaratus…”

“So you will be coming with me?” interrupted Luke.

“Yes, yes, certainly! That is a necessity at this point, but for reasons I’ve yet to state. In the meantime, I think it time to acquaint you more fully with the early history of Orbaratus. In fact, that also is imperative, so that you know what it is we may be facing.

“What I am about to tell you,” Azarias said, rising from his chair and pacing before the Abbot’s desk, “is now known only to myself, Father Hildebrandt, and the Masters, although their perspective on these events would be, as you might imagine, considerably different from ours. Not even Polydora knows all of what you are about to hear.

“When we first explored Orbaratus and discovered Polydora there, it was clear that her world had been victimized by the Amenta.  After Polly came back with us and began her work in The Gallery, I took the opportunity to make many trips to her world so that I could better understand what had happened there and to try to determine whether her world was truly as empty and abandoned as it first appeared to be.

“It was not.

“The Amenta had conquered the original peoples of Orbaratus, the ones we now know as the Masters. But in those earliest days, they called themselves simply the Ferrubene, or the ‘Blessed Ones’ in their own tongue. They were a brilliant people, skilled in crafts, the arts, and philosophy, and as their ultimate achievement, they brought into being a servant race of creatures that, at first, were simply clever automatons. But these were gifted with learning algorithms that ultimately, and in a manner beyond the wildest hopes of the Ferrubene craftsmen, resulted in their awakening into a fully sentient race. This, of course, was far beyond the Ferrubene’s own skill; it was a gift granted by One greater than themselves, and it was ultimately to a greater purpose of its own, as you shall see.

“But, the Ferrubene liberality in learning, and their untempered love of tolerance and diversity, led to their downfall. After the awakening of their servants, their educators and leaders allowed evil ideas to creep into their prosperous and peaceful world, and these ideas remained unchallenged. Prosperity ever breeds excessive complacency and misplaced tolerance toward evil, Luke, as you should always remember. Ah, there have been so many civilizations destroyed by their own successes! But, I digress….

“In the case of Orbaratus, the seemingly benign tolerance and the weakening of a societal moral compass — all made possible by wealth and abundance — extended even to the point of defending evil doctrines in their many guises. In such a setting, idleness also encouraged dangerous experimentation among the elites, and the Amenta, who are able to travel unfettered into any world that invites them in, found their opening and quickly exploited it.

“The Amenta, once they had come to Orbaratus, whispered into the ears of the rulers among the Ferrubene, promising ever greater riches and glory if they promoted what was in effect a new religion: one that would ultimately serve to destroy their world. The tenets of this religion are unimportant, but it cloaked its adherents in a mantle of victimhood and injustice that they used against the greater Ferrubene society itself. The religion was quietly taught to those with less education and skills: these were convinced that they were victims of societal injustice, and that the new faith would avenge all the wrongs they had suffered. Others were converted through promises of more power, or, as a last resort, by threats of violence to themselves or to their families.

“The worship of novelty had become so widespread at this time, by the urgings of the Amenta, that common sense was utterly abandoned, and anyone who challenged the teachings of the new religion was labeled a bigot and a hater of the coming ‘New Era’. Societal disruptions increased, and eventually these reached the stage that stopping them and prosecuting their instigators was impossible. Killings and riots in the name of the new religion became widespread. Whole cities were burned and looted, and the Ferrubene people turned against themselves in open civil war after civil war.

“In this setting, the Ferrubene’s servants strove against the teachings of the new religion, and even while the Ferrubene killed themselves off, the Ferrumari ever sought to save the lives of their creators. But they were largely unsuccessful, for the Ferrumari numbers were too few. In the end, most of the Ferrubene died, leaving behind only the worst and the most corrupted of their rulers. These the Amenta had preserved, knowing them to be their greatest servants.

“Now that there were so few of the Masters left, the Ferrumari captured and imprisoned them, fashioning for their onetime creators a place where they could be held harmless. But the prisons were incapable of holding the Masters, until, ultimately, when the opportunity was offered them, the Ferrumari put the last of that twisted master race into a state of biological suspension. This was done in the hopes that a day might come when they could be cured of their madness, for the Ferrumari were and are a very compassionate people.

“The gate to their resting place was sealed with three crystals whose power was both to sustain the Masters’ suspension and to keep the gate that sealed their prison strong and inviolate.

“Without the Masters to breed further strife, the Ferrumari themselves at first thrived, but they, too, many thousands of years later, also became victims of the Amenta. In the end, they, too, turned upon themselves, ultimately destroying all members of their own race save Polydora. She and the Masters who remained alive — although suspended behind and below their stone gateway — are now the only living inhabitants of Orbaratus. You, Luke, are already familiar with this latter history, as I recall.”

“Yes, I am,” said Luke, “and I related it to Jill and to Sam earlier today. But I was certainly unaware that the Amenta had claimed both of the planet’s sentient races, rather than just the latter one.”

The room was silent while they all considered Azarias’ words.

“But how on earth did you learn all of this?” asked Luke. “Polly lived for thousands of years on her planet, and she was unable to fully decipher anything other than fragments of the history you’ve just related.”

“Ah, yes, that is true,” said Azarias, “but Polly did not have the one tool she might have used to discover the full truth about her planet’s ancient history.”

“And what tool was that?”

“Why, the ability to framerun, of course. I was able to learn much, much more than she ever could in all her years on Orbaratus; but that was only possible because I was able to travel to her world through both space and time.”

“So are you saying you went back to Orbaratus during the earliest times of the Masters and directly witnessed much of what you have just related?”

“I not only witnessed it, but I did what I could to minimize the sufferings that I encountered there; at least, to the extent I was able.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simply this; that it was I who taught the Ferrumari how to contain the Masters. And it was I who placed the three guarding stones upon the gateway in the first place, sealing them within!”

         [ To read Episode 10.1, click here…. ]

 

 

 

Mar 26

In the Company of Angels: Episode 9.1 – The Renderer

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 9.1 – The Renderer

 

 When Luke Lester stepped through the sketch he had made on Orbaratus and arrived in England, he was greeted by the grey light of a chilly, dank, foggy winter’s day pouring through the windows of a London flat. He had made the sketch with this flat in mind, of course, and given what he knew about the head of his Order, he was not in the least bit surprised to find that Azarias had anticipated his arrival.

The flat itself was on the top floor of a compound of brick buildings in the west of the Kensington and Chelsea sections of London. The community had given itself the grand title of Kensington Mansions. Azarias, or rather, “Brother Azarias”, as Luke reminded himself, was an odd and eccentric resident of a very wealthy part of the city: he was a monk amongst millionaires.

But the flat itself, situated adjacent to the High Street Kensington tube station, allowed Brother Azarias easy access to Heathrow airport, to Paddington Station, and to King’s Cross: thus, he could travel unfettered to any part of England or points north, west, south, or east as needed. That, in addition to his being within easy walking distance of the British Natural History Museum and the Victoria and Albert, made this an ideal location for an erudite scholar of history, culture, science, and lore: for so Azarias introduced himself to his neighbors. Luke smiled as he recalled overhearing discussions with the Abbot, Father Hildebrandt, about Brother Azarias’ choice of accommodations.

“They will seem a bit opulent for a religious,” he had told Brother Azarias.

“Indeed, but such a location will give me access to resources available nowhere else, and who is to say what good the presence of a ‘sign of contradiction’ might serve in such a posh neighborhood?” Luke could still remember the smile on Azarias’ face when he had made that statement; it was the smile of the fox in the hen house.

The Abbot Primate had, without much additional persuasion, agreed to Brother Azarias’ request. Luke knew that the two of them had, as his own brother Charles had once told him “a history” together. Charles was close friends with many of the Benedictine monks, and Father Hildrebrandt was the worldwide head of that Order.

Father Hildebrandt and Brother Azarias, according to Charles, understood each other in a way that might appear perplexing to Luke, but Charles had always insisted that the two were kindred souls in ways that were difficult for ordinary folk to appreciate.

“You must know, Luke, that Brother Azarias is — how shall I say this? — quite inscrutable: to the point of being otherworldly, even,” Charles had once confided to him. “That is precisely why he was entrusted with the charge of your Order, of The Framerunners. He is privy to knowledge that even Father Hildebrandt is not, I rather suspect. Believe me; I have seen him in situations no ordinary human being would ever wish to be found in, and he has proven himself more than their equal in every case….”

These thoughts flooded through Luke’s mind as he stood in the living room of Brother Azarias’ flat. It was sparsely furnished with a sofa, a table, and bookshelves that covered literally every wall. Luke recalled that the flat had a single bathroom and two bedrooms; both of the latter were choked with books as well, but the accommodations were reserved as much for other members of the Benedictine order and for the Fratrum Silulacrorum as for Brother Azarias himself. This was a “safe house”: a conclave nestled in the cacophony at the heart of London. Luke paused and listened; the constant “click-click, click-click” of the underground trains just outside the flat windows never seemed to cease, and he always forgot the sound until he returned here. It was like the constant heartbeat of London.

But now Luke had to concentrate. He had, upon arrival, almost immediately noticed a pile of envelopes on the table in the living room with names written in longhand upon each one. There was a note for Charles, one for Brother Aran, one for Father Hildrebrandt, one for someone named Cassandra whom he did not know, and one for himself. The latter had the word “Urgent!” written under his name. He opened it immediately.

 

“My dear Luke,

  If you are reading this, then you have come to my flat in search of me. You will not find me here; but you may, in my absence, wish to ponder the painting in the hallway closet (the one that I’ve left unwrapped). At your earliest convenience, do join me in the chambers of the Abbot Primate in Rome. Once you arrive, seek out the door and knock thereon; if no one answers, be patient. If that yields no results, let yourself out and seek for Father Hildebrandt. I shall join you as soon as I am able, but you must wait for me. Under no circumstances are you to return to The Gallery! There has been a fire. I’ll explain when we meet.

               Azarias”


Luke reread the letter. He was accustomed to Azarias’ cryptic scribblings, but the reference to a fire disturbed him. He knew that Azarias was a voracious reader of literature, including that of the 20th century, and he immediately recognized, or thought he recognized, the literary reference. “There’s been a fire, Sir,” was one of the most poignant lines in Michael Crichton’s book, The Andromeda Strain. If that association was what Azarias intended by his comment, then something disastrous had occurred, and he had no choice but to follow Azarias’ instructions to the letter — and as soon as possible.

He turned and strode out of the living room and into the hallway. The light was dim, but he found the closet and groped within it. He could feel the edges of an unframed canvas. This he removed and brought into the gray light of the living room, propping it next to the sofa. It was a small painting, perhaps two feet by three, and he thought he recognized it as one of his brother Charles’ pieces. Charles made a living as a painter in the Cotswolds, and he was quite talented, particularly at landscapes. Luke was more of a sketch artist; oil was not his preferred medium. But there was no sibling rivalry between them; Charles and Luke were very close, even if they lived on different continents and had different artistic styles and tastes.

But this particular painting was dark. It illustrated an almost claustrophobic space filled with bookshelves, maps, cabinets, and small framed cameos, all very dimly lit, as if by candlelight, or through some magical means of illumination. It was of a secret place, a hidden place, with strange instruments and books barely glimpsed on darkened shelves. It was also a place that was, frankly, none too inviting.

“Wherever could such a strange squirrel’s nest of artifacts and documents be found in a place like Rome?” he wondered.

But Luke did not hesitate in the task at hand. He made sure that the door to the flat was indeed locked and secured, and then he returned to the living room, turned the ring around on his finger once more, and stared again at his brother’s painting. It was glowing now, with the familiar bluish tinge around the edges of the canvas. Luke crouched, braced himself, and crawled (there is no more elegant way to phrase it; these are the circumstances in which members of the Fratrum Simulacrorum sometimes find themselves) through the painting and into the space beyond.

He pulled himself through and reached out with his hands to discover where he might safely find room to stand. The lighting was, indeed, dim; he suspected his brother, in painting the image, had used considerable artistic license to render it visible at all. But for the light coming from the portal, he would scarcely be able to make out any of his surroundings, so he delayed turning his ring back around until he could better gain his bearings. He felt the familiar wave of nausea that almost always accompanied him when he frameran any image other than one of his own, and he remained on the floor long enough to swallow a few bites of chocolate.

“Very good,” he said, once he began to feel better, “there are the maps and the bookshelves. And — thank heavens — there is the doorway!”

He stood up, rapped upon the door and waited. There was no answer. He waited a bit longer and rapped once more.

Nothing.

He put his ear up to the heavy wood and listened. Very faintly, he heard voices, and happily they appeared to be getting louder. When he began to be able to distinguish individual words, he banged loudly on the door with the side of his fist.

There was a brief pause, and then he heard the clinking of keys. At last a chink of light showed itself from outside the chamber. The door opened wide and the golden sunbeams of an Italian mid-winter’s day seared the backs of his eyeballs.

“Master Luke, greetings!” boomed a familiar voice. It was Brother Azarias, of course, and Luke recognized his grey-bearded countenance towering above him in the sunlit room. Also standing by the doorway was another man: smaller, and younger in appearance than Azarias, but no less intense a presence for those sensitive to such things.

Father Hildebrandt stepped forward to grasp Luke’s hand and help him climb up and out of the hidden chamber and into his formal office. The room was wood paneled with marble floors. An antique desk and chairs were in the center of the space, and bookshelves lined two walls. Behind the desk, high, arched windows let in the golden light of afternoon.

Father Hildebrandt had been the Abbot Primate of the Benedictine Order for as long as most living Benedictines could remember, but he retained the look of a man in his late forties or early fifties. It occurred to Luke that he had never really paid him that close an attention, and this was odd, given that he was an artist and was usually fascinated with peoples’ faces and expressions. He wondered if Father Hildebrandt could, in some way, cloak himself in something like a “cloud of inattention”. Such a skill would be very valuable to almost anyone in such a prominent position, if such a thing were possible….

“Thank you both,” said Luke. “And I apologize if my arrival is in any way inconvenient….”

Father Hildrbrandt could scarcely conceal a genial smile, and Azarias smacked himself on the forehead. “What in the world are you saying, Master Lucas?! Far from being an inconvenience, we have been awaiting your arrival for some time now! The game is afoot! There is no time to waste!”

“Why? Has something happened?” asked Luke.

“First, you tell us! There has been considerable news here, but I suspect it would be prudent for all of us to hear from you first; only then will we be able to determine the full nature of what is transpiring and why. So, we have been expecting to hear from you and were hoping you would arrive sooner rather than later. Thank heavens it was sooner!”

“Please, Luke, do take a seat,” said Father Hildebrandt, indicating a chair situated beside his desk.

Brother Azarias, easily the tallest of the three men, waited for both Luke and the Abbot to be seated, and then he strode over to the doorway leading from the office into the hallway of the Monastery de Sant’Anselmo. He cracked the door slightly to assure himself that no one was outside other than Brother Carroll, the Abbot’s secretary. Then he shut the door, locked it, pulled another chair beside Luke’s, and sat down heavily.

“So, please, Luke, do tell us what has happened to bring you to us,” said the Abbot.

Luke began by explaining the hunt that he and Sam had undertaken the previous day for the Piper, and how that elusive being had ultimately led them into Jill Jonsson’s library.

“Ah! So he’s back!” said Azarias, “I thought that likely. He seems to show up whenever anything monumental is afoot. Are we still in the dark as to whether he frameruns with a crystal, or uses, instead, some other means?”

“No, we’re no closer to understanding anything about him, I fear,” said Luke. “But I do think it significant that he led us to Miss Jonsson’s home. This is the second time he has put us into contact with a member of her family, as you know. And you also know what happened the first time….”

“Yes, I’m afraid I do,” said Azarias, his brow furrowing.

         [ To read Episode 9.2, click here…. ]

 

 

 

Mar 09

Before the Gateway

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“Before the Gateway

Graphite, 11.4″x8.0″ wide.

Signed and numbered prints – AVAILABLE

To purchase this original sketch, please contact Jef by clicking here.

To purchase a print of this item, please click here.

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