Tag Archive: Sam

Jul 03

In the Company of Angels: Episode 16 – Epilogue

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In the Company of Angels – Epilogue (Episode 16)       Jef Murray 7/3/2015

When Evie Jonsson next planned to have Jill’s aunt, uncle, and cousins over for supper, she also suggested that Jill might like to invite Sam to join them. Jill was only too happy to ask, and although Sam remained hesitant, given that Kate would be there, he was secretly very pleased to have been included.

“Yes, I’ll come,” Sam told her. “But — you’ve got to run blocker for me with Kate. Deal?”

“Deal!” said Jill.

Her aunt and uncle drove up that evening with Kate and Rusty in the back seat of their minivan. Sam arrived soon thereafter, entering through the front door this time instead of through a painting or a mirror. The meal conversation was lively, and everyone appeared to be in a merry mood. After polishing off platters of salad, roast beef, garlic bread, and pasta with asparagus, the younger folk retired to the library to await dessert.

Jill settled Rusty and Sam into overstuffed chairs and retrieved some of her latest storybooks from the shelves to share with Kate on the sofa. Rusty, who had insisted on sitting with Sam at supper, didn’t remain long in his chair, however, but instead went off into a corner of the room by himself, much to Jill’s surprise. Kate confided that Rusty hadn’t been quite himself since their last visit, but that the change had definitely been for the better. Sam, somewhat restless after the meal, stood up and began examining all of the posters and framed paintings that Jill had hanging in the room. These had been squeezed into every nook and cranny not already occupied by bookshelves.

Jill kept an eye on Sam while she and Kate were chatting, and, occasionally, she noticed him fidget with something around his neck. She smiled when it occurred to her that he was likely examining the worlds he could see beyond the frames of the paintings, but she tried to focus most of her attention on Kate. This became more and more difficult, she soon realized, as Kate’s mind was almost constantly on Sam. At first it was amusing, but after a while, Jill realized that the thoughts she was “hearing” from her cousin were likely the very sort of thing that Father Hildebrandt had warned her about.

“I suppose I still have a lot to learn about being a proper Empath,” Jill thought to herself.

Sam, after he had examined all of the pictures in the library, quickly realized that he would either have to join the girls on the sofa or find something else to focus on. So, he wandered over to the corner occupied by Rusty and noticed that the fellow was sprawled out on the floor drawing a picture. Sam was intrigued; he squatted down to take a look. Rusty looked up at him and smiled.

Underneath Rusty’s hands, Sam saw a landscape like none he had ever seen before. Strange, organic-looking cliffs rose beside a meadow and a stream. The execution was pretty simple, but there was a lifelike quality to it that surprised Sam. He quietly reached underneath his collar and grasped his framerunning sapphire. Rusty’s sketch glowed brightly, and was tinged with blue around its edges.

“Wow! That’s quite the sketch, Rusty!” Sam said.

Rusty smiled. “You think so? I decided that, since magic is real, I really ought to draw a magical place I’d like to visit some day. And this is it! I’ve done a couple of other pictures of it back at our house. I call it ‘Tamarinth’. I don’t know if that means anything; I just like the sound of the name….”

“Tamarinth,” Sam repeated. “I like it, Rusty! Maybe you and I can travel there together someday.”

Rusty beamed.

Jill, from across the room, “heard’ the thought pass through Sam’s mind: “I’ve really got to tell Mr. Luke about his little guy….”. And she smiled, realizing that yet another adventure was likely in the making….

 

                                                — The End —

 

 

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If you have now finished reading this first book in The Framerunners series, thank you and congratulations! This book will remain online for a few weeks, after which it will be taken down. Book two in the series, entitled The Door to Eternity, will begin posting online this September. In the meantime, I wish you all a happy and restful summer!

For those of you who would like to be notified when In the Company of Angels is available in printed and ebook forms, please contact me (you can click on the “Contact Us” button at the bottom of the homepage at www.TheFramerunners.com, or send me a note on Facebook or Google+) and I’ll be happy to add you to our Framerunners email list. Publication of the book is planned for this autumn.

Thank you again for reading, and for supporting The Framerunners!

 

 

Jun 25

In the Company of Angels: Episode 15.2 – The Abbot (cont.)

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 15.2 – The Abbot (cont.)

 

“Welcome to Rome, my dear,” said the Abbot. “I am Father Hildebrandt. And Sam here has been telling me all about you. You appear to have made quite an impression on him and all of the other members of the Order!”

Jill looked at Sam, who had turned bright red. “I just told him the truth,” Sam said.

Father Hildebrandt ushered Jill into the room and seated her before his desk. Sam quietly slipped her a piece of chocolate, and then stood up to leave.

“We were just waiting for you, but I know Father wants to speak to you alone. I’m  going to chat with Brother Carroll, one of the monks here. I’ll be just outside,” he said, and winked. Jill once again felt that curious burst of joy from Sam that she had first felt when they had been in Oxford together.

Sam pulled the office door shut behind him, and Jill heard him chatting with someone outside.

Turning back to look at the office, Jill noticed that, in one corner, a stand had been set up and Muninn was perched there, happily grooming himself. He was not caged.

“Aren’t you afraid he’ll fly away?” asked Jill.

“Oh no,” said the Abbot. “You see, we have come to an understanding.”. He walked over to the perch and put out his arm. Muninn hopped onto his sleeve, and the Abbot stroked the bird’s throat gently. The bird’s eyes shut, and it was clear that the creature enjoyed the attention.

“Father Abbot….?”

“You can call me ‘Father Hildebrandt’, dear, or just ‘Father’. Everyone else does.”

“Well, Father, I was just wondering; since the raven…er…Muninn, seems to have caused so much trouble, how do we know he isn’t working with the, uh, the Amenta? I mean, how do we know he isn’t evil himself?”

“That’s a very good question. The simple answer is that animals, even fairly intelligent ones such as ravens, are not responsible for the acts that others might urge them to commit. We have no way of knowing if Muninn’s stealing of the Guarding Stones was instigated by the Amenta, or whether it was all simply the creature’s natural curiosity and interest in pretty things that wrought the havoc. I’m inclined to think it was the first, and that Muninn was urged to steal the stones. But he’s not truly responsible in either case.

“We can’t know for certain, of course, but it is also safe to say that he poses no further threat, provided we keep him away from other paintings!” The Abbot smiled.

After a minute or so, Father Hildebrandt eased Muninn back onto his perch, and then he returned to his desk.

“Now, my dear, I want to give you a chance to tell me what happened on Orbaratus, in your own words. And I’d also like to answer any questions you might have about what happened, and why. I do not have all of the answers, but such as I do have, I am more than willing to share with you. You have earned that much, and more.”

So, Jill related the whole story of her adventures, just as she had to the Professor in Oxford, but she continued on with the full story of Sam’s and her return to Orbaratus, the battle at the gateway, and their eventual journey back to the Gallery.

Father Hildebrandt listened intently, only interrupting her when he was unclear about an event. Jill thought what a marvelous listener he was, and she wondered at one point whether he, too, might be an Empath. To her surprise, he answered her aloud.

“No, I am not an Empath. I don’t have that gift.”

“But how did you know what I was thinking if you aren’t?” asked Jill, surprised.

“Because you, being an Empath, ‘think’ rather loudly, my dear!” said the abbot, chuckling. “I am merely observant, but unlike you and Polydora, I cannot project my thoughts into others’ heads, nor read theirs.

“Yours is a great gift, and one that will bring with it many temptations as you come to understand it better. Remember to always use this talent wisely, and kindly. You may find, in time, that many things you come to ‘hear’ from others, you may wish had remained secret.”

“I don’t understand, Sir.”

“Perhaps not yet, but hopefully we can teach you how to block out others’ thoughts unless you have an urgent need to hear them; that way you respect their privacy and preserve your own integrity.

“But, now that I’ve heard your tale, what do you still wish to know about last week’s events?”

“Well, Father,” said Jill, “I think we were all a bit perplexed by Brother Azarias’ concern about the portal going missing. I never heard anything from Sam about it during the week. What was that all about?”

Father Hildebrandt smiled and related the news that the Gallery had, in fact, been burned down, and that Brother Azarias had had to travel back in time to prevent it.

“The five men that were arrested weren’t, of course, the ones who instigated the arson…well, the attempted arson. That was someone else, of whom we know a few things. But the important point is that the plan was foiled. If it had not been, the painting you used to reach Orbaratus would have been destroyed in the fire and the portal would have gone missing. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so,” said Jill. “It’s hard to keep such things straight, though. I haven’t read much science fiction; I’m guessing this is the sort of thing that’s explored in the books Sam likes so much….”

“Time travel can be confusing to anyone,” said the abbot, smiling. “Happily, Brother Azarias’ plan worked, the gallery was saved, and you were all able to return safely. The Amenta are not to be trifled with, and this was far too close a call for all of us!

“But, speaking of the Amenta, there is something I need to ask you.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Do you think what you have been through was of value to you? That is, were your experiences the sort of thing you would ever wish to do again…or have you had enough of framerunning?”

“Are you asking me if I want to continue helping Mr. Luke and Sam?” asked Jill. “You mean, like, that’s an option?!”

“Yes, of course it is. But I want you to think about it very carefully. You were put in very grave danger, and in a way that we could not have anticipated. You survived, and you even uniquely helped to prevent a great catastrophe from occurring. But you and Sam are still both quite young.

“I’m asking you whether you wish to continue working with Sam and Mr. Luke, given what you’ve seen about the reality of the danger and the evil that exists out in the world: ours  as well as others. There is no disgrace or shame if you should decide you’d rather not continue helping us; framerunning is not for everyone!”

Jill sat and thought for a moment. “Father, I know what you’re saying. But it seems to me that, if I hadn’t seen the tougher side of framerunning already, I’d be more likely to make a bad decision. Last week was very scary, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat just to know that I was able to help my friends.”

The abbot considered her for a long time in silence, but Jill could sense nothing whatsoever about what he might be thinking.

“In that case, all I can say, my dear,” said the Abbot, “is that Brother Azarias and Polydora, both of whom I trust more than anyone when it comes to understanding a person’s nature, are both quite right about you. You are, indeed, an extraordinary individual. And if helping your friends is what you wish to continue doing, then I would be a fool to deny you the chance.

“There is, however, one matter we must attend to, if you are determined to continue helping us in our work.”

“What is that, Sir?”

“We need to make sure that you are protected from the Amenta going forward. Sam, Luke, Polydora, and all of us are protected, and must be, in order to carry out our work. You know that the Amenta are attracted to the crystals, yes?”

“Yes, Sir,” said Jill.

“Well then, over the centuries, we have found ways of masking our whereabouts, and even masking the presence of any sapphires that we keep in our possession. If you are willing, I would like to bestow on you this protection. That way, if you ever are left alone with a crystal in the future, you will not be troubled by the ‘Howlers’, as Sam calls them.”

Jill was more than happy to be rid of the Howlers going forward. So, Father Hildebrandt had her stand up. He retrieved a small silver jar and a book from his desk, and, reading in a soft voice, spoke over her words that seemed to be in Latin, and that Jill could only describe as a sort of a blessing. When the Abbot had finished reciting the words from the book, he marked her forehead and the palms of her hands with a fragrant oil taken from the silver jar.

“There. You should be largely untroubled by the dark ones of the spirit world henceforth,” he said, smiling. “And welcome, my dear. Welcome into the Fratrum Simulacrorum. You can, if you wish, think of yourself as a Novice, which is what we call the aspiring folk who are seeking to come into the Benedictine order. And I pray that you are helped and strengthened as much as you help and strengthen us in the months and years to come.”

“Thank you, Father,” said Jill.

The Abbot returned the book and the silver jar to his desk. Then he walked over to his office door and opened it. “Sam, if Brother Carroll has done with you, I believe Miss Jonsson is ready to return home now.”

“Oh, great!” said Sam. He came into the office beaming. He turned to Father Hildebrandt. “So, she’s safe now?” he asked.

“Indeed, and you can quiz her on everything we discussed all the way back home again,” said the Abbot, smiling.

The trip back to the Gallery was a bit easier for Jill this time, to which she credited the delicious hazelnut-laced chocolates with which the Abbot had supplied them. And, true to his word, when she and Sam arrived back at the Gallery, Mr. Luke had a surprise awaiting her. He held in his hands a small silver box that was tied with a silver ribbon. He was about to give it to her, but then he thought better of it and handed it to Polydora.

Polydora knelt down in front of Jill with the small box cupped in her elegant, six-fingered hands. “Go on, open it,” Jill heard Polly’s voice in her head tell her.

Jill took the box and unwrapped it. Within it was a silver ring, not unlike the one that she had used to framerun before, but this one was smaller and more delicate. The emblem of The Framerunners was embossed on either side of the oval sapphire, and inside the band, her initials were engraved.

“This is to be your own personal sapphire going forward,” said Mr. Luke, “just as Samuel has his own and I have my own.”

“I actually have three!” said Sam, grinning. “And I never go anywhere without ‘em!”

“Hmm, well, that’s true. But then, Samuel is a Navigator, so he probably has more need of crystals than anyone. Polly, on the other hand, doesn’t have one of her own because she never leaves the Gallery, but that may be about to change….”

“What do you mean?!” asked Jill, “Is Polly going somewhere?! Isn’t she going to continue here as the Keeper of the Gallery?!”

“Yes, certainly, she is, have no fear on that score! But after our adventure last week, she has said she would like to accompany us on some of our future trips, should the situation allow her to do so. So, Jill, given that fact, and given that she may need her own sapphire going forward, could we have you do the honors for Polly…?” Mr. Luke produced another silver box and handed it to Jill.

Jill turned to Polly, who was still kneeling next to her, and placed the box in her hands. Then she threw her arms around the Ferrumari and hugged her tightly. Polly unwrapped the box and withdrew a ring very similar to Jill’s, but much larger. The engraving on the inside of the band was rendered in characters that Jill didn’t recognize.

“Are those your initials in the Ferrrumari alphabet?” she thought to her friend.

“Something like that,” Polly answered.

“But why would you ever want to leave the Gallery now? Especially after all you went through on Orbaratus? I mean, this is your home, Polly, after all….”

“Yes, it is. But I won’t be leaving the gallery except as needed. And besides, someone has to look after you when you’re out on your adventures, Little One.” The words Jill heard in her head were followed by the sweet familiar chiming of Polydora’s laughter.

 

 

          [ To read Episode 16, the conclusion to In the Company of Angels, click here…. ]

 

 

 

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 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…. ]

 

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 28

The Golden Dragon

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“The Golden Dragon

Digital, 8″x8″ wide.

Signed and numbered prints – AVAILABLE

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

 

 

Apr 28

The Cottage

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“The Cottage

Mixed digital, 10″x8.0″ wide.

Signed and numbered prints – AVAILABLE

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

 

Apr 16

In the Company of Angels: Episode 10.2 – The Chase (cont.)

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In the Company of Angels, Episode 10.2 – The Chase (cont.)

“There may possibly be a way we can narrow down which is the more likely of the paintings,” said the Professor. “Some of these might never appeal to a raven, although I’m not sure I’m any judge. At least let’s gather them all together in one place so that we can see how many we have to choose from.”

The suggestion struck them all as sensible, so they carefully looked through the attic. Every painting that was visible and that might easily have allowed the raven to escape through it was brought to the spot where the Orbaratus painting was propped against the wall. When they were done, they had seven total paintings collected.

“Did you store all of these here yourself?” asked Sam.

“Yes, but it has been over quite a few years,” said the Professor. “I’ve lived here since the 1920s, and although I very much enjoy paintings, I do like to shuffle them around once in a while so that I can see them anew.

“This one, for instance, is of a little town in the Cotswolds that I enjoy visiting on occasion. I don’t recall who the artist was; I believe I purchased it at the town market one weekend.

“This next one is a reproduction of a Matisse still life. You may not have seen it before; it was one of his earlier paintings.”

“I don’t think he’d fly there,” said Jill, “I can’t imagine he’d be attracted to a vase with sunflowers in it.”

“You’re probably right, my dear,” said the Professor, “but this next one might be of interest….”

The Professor indicated a small but very colorful painting of what appeared to be a rather friendly-looking dragon coiled around the trunk of a tree. The dragon was reddish gold in color, and the treetrunk around which it had wrapped itself was a deep blue: almost black. The tree had beautiful silver leaves and yellow fruit hanging from it. Beyond the dragon’s tree there were other trees of varying hues. The ground was copper-coloured.

“What a strange painting!” said Jill.

“Yes it is. It was done by one of my students: quite a talented painter. He was trying to depict a scene I had written into one of my stories.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you were a writer as well as a Professor!” said Jill.

“Yes, I am, but only in my spare time. What do you both think about this next one over here?”

And so they looked through each of the seven paintings, ultimately narrowing them down to four that were the most likely to have attracted the bird. But each of these was a portal into an entire world! There were three that were set in the open countrysides of England and Ireland, plus the painting of the world with the dragon. They were at a loss, at that point, as to how to proceed.

It was just as they were each puzzling over the four that Jill heard, very faintly, the sound of a flute. But it wasn’t a flute exactly, and it took her a few moments to realize that she had heard it before.

“Do you both hear that?” she asked.

“Hear what?” asked Sam.

“Something like a flute. It’s very faint.”

They all listened.

“I can hear nothing, my dear,” said the Professor, “but my hearing is likely not as keen as yours.”

“I don’t hear anything either,” said Sam. “But where do you think it’s coming from?”

“Let me see,” said Jill. She listened intently and began to walk away from the paintings. The sound diminished. She returned to the paintings and it became louder once more.

“It’s definitely coming from one of these,” she said, pointing to the paintings.

“Which one?” asked the Professor.

Jill held her head close to each painting in turn, finishing with the one of the dragon. “This one,” she said, “it’s definitely coming from there.”

First the Professor, then Sam bent down next to the painting and listened.

“I got nothin’,” said Sam. “But, if you’re sure it’s coming from this one, I’ll be happy to go through and see whether there’s any sign of the raven on the other side.”

Jill listened once more. “It’s definitely coming from there,” she said.

“Alright then. The sound could mean nothing, or it could mean everything. But we’ve got nothing better to go with at this point.

“This is a pretty small painting; I should just be able to squeeze through; but that might end up being a good thing. If I’m able to find the raven, I may be able to scare it into returning. Professor, do you have that blanket still in your office?”

“Yes…Ah! You want us to wait here, and if the bird comes through, toss the blanket over it?”

“Exactly. That may not be necessary, because this may not be the right painting. But….” Sam looked hard at Jill, “Mr. Luke told me to trust you, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

The Professor retrieved the blanket, being careful not to leave the hatchway open for longer than a moment, and then they all clustered around the dragon painting. Because it was so small, Sam had to get on the floor and wriggle through.

“OK, here goes. Keep your crystal touching your skin; that may allow you to see the raven coming if I’m able to scare him back in this direction. Oh, wait, before I go, let’s turn these other paintings against the wall. That way if you aren’t able to catch him with the blanket, he won’t have any other worlds to fly off into.”

They turned the other paintings around, and Sam got down on his stomach and wriggled through the glowing frame. They could still see him briefly whilst they looked through the frame from the attic, but then he was gone.

“By Jove!” said the Professor. “I would so love to try that!”

         . . .

When Sam tumbled out of the portal, he landed on a soft, spongy surface. He stood up, brushed the attic dust off of himself, and turned to make sure of the frame’s location. He saw it suspended in space at about the same height as his own eyes above ground level. But as he looked at it, he started to feel slightly disoriented.

“That’s not right,” he said aloud, “I don’t ever get frame fatigue!” Then he realized that it wasn’t the framerunning itself that was troubling him. The ground itself appeared to be gently rising and falling, as if he was standing upon some huge raft that was being lifted on great ocean swells. He looked around him. Just past the portal he could see what looked like a distant golden sea. The sky was golden as well.

Sam turned back to look again at the dragon. “I forgot to ask the Professor if you were friendly or not,” he said aloud. “I’m hoping that if you’re not, he would have thought to mention it.”

Sam looked up at the branches of the tree around which the dragon was wrapped.  It wasn’t very large, and the other trees around him weren’t either. That was good, he thought, because it likely meant that the raven, if it had come this way, wouldn’t be able to perch so far up that he couldn’t reach it.

Sam looked more closely at the fruit hanging from the tree, and it occurred to him that he might be able to pick some of these and throw them at the raven if he found him; that was just as well, since there didn’t appear to be any stones on the ground that he could use for such a thing. Instead, there was some sort of coppery-looking weedy stuff that almost looked woven together. He couldn’t see anything like sand, or soil, or rocks anywhere.

He put his hands on his hips. “Didja happen to see a big black bird flying through here recently?” he asked the dragon. After all, he thought, he couldn’t be sure whether the creature could speak or not. If it was Middle-earth or some other Iconic Realm he was familiar with, he’d know, but this world was new to him.

The dragon seemed uninterested in his words at first, but then it uncoiled itself and started waddling away from him on the forest floor, moving ever deeper into the woods. The creature was only about the size of a largish dog, so it was soon lost to sight.

Sam shrugged and followed. He occasionally had to grab hold of one of the tree trunks as he walked, since the land would occasionally rise up and then fall back down again. He could tell that these were almost certainly ocean swells, because at times, when he looked back, he thought the distant sea appeared to be down a fairly steep slope, but at other times he lost sight of it completely. He assumed that meant that the land had dropped below sea level, as crazy as that might seem..

“Weirdest thing I’ve ever heard of,” he muttered, looking back. When he turned back around to continue following the dragon, he nearly tripped over the creature, which had ceased its waddling.

The dragon had come to rest at the base of one of the many fruit trees and was slowly winding itself up the indigo-coloured tree trunk. Sam peered into the branches and saw something black.

It was the raven.

The raven was eyeing the dragon nervously. Sam walked past the tree and then reached up and picked several of the yellow gourd-like fruits that dangled from an adjacent tree. The smaller ones he stuffed into his pants pocket, but the larger ones he held in readiness. He turned then and watched the raven. The dragon had now gripped the tree tightly and was, serpent-like, gliding ever closer to the bird’s perch.

The raven flapped its wings nervously. Sam thought he could still saw the crystal in its talons. He took aim with one of the gourds and threw it. It landed with a splat on the branch next to the raven, and that was just enough to startle it into taking flight. Sam saw the crystal it was holding in its talons drop to the ground, and he started shouting loudly and waving his arms as he stooped to retrieve it.

The raven circled the tree once, but didn’t dare get near Sam, and as soon as Sam had the crystal stuffed into his pocket, he began throwing more of the yellow fruit at the bird, trying to frighten it back toward the portal.

His plan worked.

The raven, unnerved by the dragon and then by Sam’s unforgivably rude behavior, decided it had had enough of this place. It circled the tree one last time, and then wheeled back toward the edge of the forest. Sam followed after it as fast as he was able, only occasionally losing his balance as the ground continued to dip and heave beneath him. Soon both he and the raven had returned to the dragon’s tree, and Sam saw his quarry tuck in its wings and glide right into the dark portal.

“Gotcha now!” he cried triumphantly. He then ran headlong after the bird and dove through the frame and into the darkness of the Professor’s attic.

         [ To read Episode 11.1, click here…. ]

 

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