Part 4

Metamor Keep: Keeper's Return
By Charles Matthias

        Misha Brightleaf of the Long Scouts was only a minute ahead of the contingent of soldiers sent to escort them to Duke Thomas and his coterie of advisors.  Of them all, only a few of Aldanto’s men, Darius Egland, and Andares of the Åelf had never before glimpsed the alabaster spires of Metamor Keep, the tightly bound city within her walls, nor the city of Euper that clustered about Metamor’s flanks like children reclining at their mother’s hem while she told them a story.  And of these, only Andares did not gape as the towers rose over hill and forest to challenge the sky, and even the Åelf confessed a bit of awe when asked what he thought of it.
        After two months of snows the streets of Euper were cluttered with piles that stood taller than some homes.  Those towering, brown stained white mountains had been shoved as far from the roads as they could be.  Only the main road toward the gates of Metamor was completely clear; the rest were white rutted with wagon wheels and gouged with boot, paw, and hoof.  At just past midday, the townsfolk of Euper were mostly gathered around the makeshift market, and many flocked to the wagons to learn what wares the merchants from the south brought.  The Urseil family sold cloth both wool and cotton and other things more refined, and they had a few offers from the townsfolk as they passed some of which were even tempting to their hosts.
        But once they were met by Misha at the town square, the companions of many months as well as their Sutthaivasse benefactor Aldanto and Darius Egland, took their leave of the wagons.  Aldanto left his seamen with the merchants to make sure they kept their end of the bargain for a return trip to Ellcaran, but he had letters to deliver to Duke Thomas and so chose to accompany the Keepers.
        The fox stood in the centre of the town square for as long as it took them to come into view.  He then leapt forward, giving first Kayla and then Jessica firm hugs. “Oh it’s so good to see you both again!  Welcome home!”
        “Thank you, Misha,” Jessica replied with a caw, trying to return the hug with her wings but failing in the fox’s exuberance.  The other Longs all chuckled. “It is very good to be home.  Finbar told me that Weyden and his friends were set free a few months ago and are serving in the north.  Why to the north?”
        Misha shook his head after disentangling himself from the hawk. “That wasn’t my choice.  He’s part of the regular army, so I have no say where he goes.” The fox’s grey eyes looked the hawk up and down once. “Why are your feathers black?”
        “A consequence of killing Agathe,” Jessica replied, a little more hotly than she expected.  The feathers along her back and neck ruffled. “Enough of that for now.  Let me introduce the three you do not know.” She gestured toward the pearl grey-skinned Åelf. “This is Andares-es-sebashou of the Åelf, one of our guides through the ancient mountains and forests of his kind.”
        Andares inclined his head somewhat, a faint smile playing at the edge of his lips.  Misha returned the gesture, his eyes widening a little, but otherwise he retained his composure. “I am honoured to meet one of your kind.”
        “I have been honoured to fight alongside such noble men and women as you Keepers,” Andares replied with complete sincerity.
        Jessica then gestured to the other human amongst them. “And this is Jerome Krabbe, a childhood friend of Charles and a Sondecki.  He joined us in the Flatlands and has helped us many ways.”
        “Charles told me quite a bit about you,” Jerome said to the fox, extending one arm in a brotherly fashion.
        Misha took it, grasping him on the forearm and squeezing firmly.  Jerome did the same, fingers plowing through fur. “I have not heard of you, but any friend of Charles is a friend of mine.  And yes,” he added, “we saw Charles and that gryphon fellow flying north toward the Glen.”
        “I’ll be heading there myself as soon as I can,” Jerome said gravely. “He’ll need all his friends to comfort him.”
        The two exchanged slow nods of quiet agreement, knowing what faced the rat when he arrived home. “And this last is Sir Darius Egland of Pyralia, Captain of the Pyralian flagship the Iron King,” Jessica continued after allowing the two a moment of commiseration. “Prince Phil captured it during battle.”
        Misha raised an eyebrow curiously as he looked to the southerner, “Prince Phil?” he chuffed with a lift of his good ear and a brief smiling flash of teeth. “Our cage-prone rabbit prince captured an enemy warship?” He barked a laugh and shook his head. “A grand story, I look forward to hearing it, but it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.  A dozen Metamoran soldiers led by a large lizard morph were coming down the street toward them.  Jessica recognized the lizard as Copernicus, Duke Thomas’s attaché and advisor. “His grace wants to hear everything, and so do I.”
        “Yes, he does,” Copernicus said as he got close enough to the wagons.  The three-hundred pound lizard was the first Keeper they’d come across that actually intimidated either Captain Aldanto or Darius, both of whom took an involuntary step back. “We’re here to escort you straight to his grace.  Food and fresh clothes will be made available if you need it.  I’m very relieved to see you all returned.”
        “Not all of us,” Lindsey said as he helped Abafouq climb down from the wagons. “Zhypar did not return.”
        Copernicus looked as if he’d been slapped.  His tail and head lowered, shoulders sagging. “I’m so very sorry to hear that.  He was a very good friend.  How did he...”
        “When we see Duke Thomas,” Lindsey said rather gruffly.
        “Of course.”
        Kayla, paws on the swords, glanced between Misha and Copernicus. “What about Rickkter?  Is he well?”
         “Rickkter’s well,” Misha replied, and then grinned mischievously, “and very eager to see you and to get his strength back.  He could barely walk when he woke.  I’ll tell you on the way.  We mustn’t keep his grace waiting.”
        With Copernicus’ dozen soldiers flanking them, the five Longs mingling with them, they all left the wagons and followed the road toward the fortified walls and the sole gate that allowed entrance.  Aldanto and Darius followed at the rear and kept quiet.  Aldanto’s gaze was measured and studious, while Darius did his best not to gawk at each new sight that came before him.  Until he’d met Prince Phil almost two months ago, he’d never seen any sort of Keeper, now they were almost all he saw and it was hard to digest.
        “Quite a sight, are they not?” a human soldier asked blandly as he paced alongside the Pyralian captain.  Darius blinked and glanced aside at him with a questioning tilt of his head.
        “Excuse me?” he said flatly, scowling at the commoner’s temerity to so address one of noble birth so boldly.
        “The beasts walking upright, wearing clothing, and speaking as easily as we do?” Darius’ irritated glare did not phase the soldier’s aplomb in the slightest.
        Darius hemmed in quiet contemplation for a moment, lips tightened to a narrow line at the irritating soldier’s conversation.  His eyes roved over their escort, both human and beast, and the rabble making way for their progress up the boulevard. “It is...” he said at some length. “They are an oddness I would never have imagined.” His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Yet they have been made to exist and Eli’s countenance smiles upon them, if the late Patriarch’s proclamations are to be believed.”
        The soldier rubbed the ball adorning the hilt of his sheathed sword with one hand and nodded. “I don’t know anything about him or what he may have said.  They’re a difficult lot to accept at first glance.  The first time I found myself among them, awakening in the healers’ hall after taking injury in battle, it shook me to my very core with a terror that cannot be justified with words.” He dropped his hands to clasp them at the small of his back. “What of you, milord?  Do they frighten you so?”
        Darius shook his head after a moment. “No,” he admitted at some length, “I guess I am more confused than frightened.  After finding myself talking diplomacy with a rabbit, and sharing a ship for weeks with these others, they do not frighten me so much as being thrust among them unawares may have.” He paused to watch a thick-bellied, broad-shouldered boar pig splitting wood in the shadows of a smokehouse.  The soldier paused as well to watch and both of them resuming their progress after only a brief stare. “But there are so many, the beasts.  I thought there were three curses somewhat equally spread among hose who have suffered, or accepted, this curse?”
        With a nod the soldier grunted affirmatively, “These are the ones who cannot leave.” He pointed out, “They’re walking, talking beasts.  Those who changed but remained human, like me, have ever been free to travel as they wished.  The world is not such a dangerous place when you can blend in.” He nodded and smiled slightly. “Take me, milord, yes?  Seven years ago I was a woman.  In some ways I still am.” He tapped lightly at his breast with one thumb. “But in most I’ve become as much a man as yourself, if a mere commoner.  I can leave this place, I can travel where I will.” He nodded toward the back of the towering reptile ahead of them. “They cannot.”
        Darius fell silent as he considered the soldier’s words, his lips drawn into a thin line as his boots crunched through the slush of the boulevard.  Under his breath he whispered in a grunt, “But they can travel.”
        As they made their way up the slope toward the city gates, Misha and Copernicus took turns regaling them of the events in the last eight months of the Keep.  Of special note was Duke Thomas’s wedding which everyone wanted to hear about.  Misha did complain about spending an inordinate amount of time on patrol prior to the celebration, but they could tell by the way his eyes and fur glowed that he considered his sacrifices well worth it.
        Jessica asked after Kurt and Tugal, and the fox assured them that both of them arrived in Metamor safely just before Thomas’s wedding.  He had no word on whether Kurt had returned home safely, but Tugal and the nuns were busy reclaiming several burned out buildings and turning them into a new convent.  While Misha hadn’t had a chance to check on their progress lately, Copernicus assured them that the convent was proceeding rapidly and they were receiving quite a bit of help from the local Follower population.  Already they’d cleared out a space for a sanctuary and had started building the eastern facing wall against which the altar would be built.
        He also explained that there was an unexpected degree of crowding in Euper and Keeptowne, and even the Keep itself, due to an unexpected and almost overwhelming influx of refugees flooding up from the south. Some fled north to escape the conflicts plaguing the southern kingdoms, willing to face a curse rather than the swords of warring Houses.  Most, however, had come having heard that Metamor could heal almost any infirmity or illness.  The curse had indeed done just that, and now they had to deal with thousands of homeless.
        The guards at the gates allowed them through without comment.  The Killing Fields were empty but for a handful of merchants who had set up shop nearest the inner bailey.  These busied themselves trying to sell grains, cloths, and other odds and ends that would be of aid to a first-time visitor to Metamor.  They paid little attention to the many weary travellers being escorted by Copernicus, Misha, and the soldiers of Metamor.
        The city streets were cleared of ice and snow and almost warm in the afternoon press of people.  Many of them were Keepers they recognized, and some recognized them.  There were numerous shouts of delight and greeting; most just waved with their words, while a few tried to ask them where they’d been all this time, and a couple forget all about their chores in order to tag along.
        For the Keepers, seeing the city that had protected them and been their home for many long years was a joy greater even than in seeing Prince Phil and the Whalish fleet on the barren wasteland of mud choked earth that had once been the Marzac peninsula.  The streets were familiar beneath their feet, the scents rich with beast, bread, and barter. The sounds were a cacophony of cackles, chitters, cries, and caws both identical to the market cries of every city in the world and, at the same time, vastly different..  All of it enraptured their senses, that dream they’d shared for so many trying months had come to life before them, and unlike in the Hall of Unearthly Light, this was not a vision that would fade, a seeming that would spring away with the unravelling of magic.  This was real, this was their home, and they were now walking through it as heroes returned from their quest.
        Once through the city, they reached the central courtyard beneath the Keep and proceeded directly toward the Duke’s towers.  Copernicus led them through the Ivy Causeway and up a set of stairs.  The halls were wider than usual to accommodate two dozen men and women walking without order or formation.  The soldiers kept six on each side at least four shoulder-widths apart to give their charges plenty of room.  Andares and Abafouq marvelled at all they saw, Andares with a quiet delight in his brilliant eyes, and Abafouq with the wonder of a child returning to a secret garden they’d been rushed through the first time.  The rest could only savour the joy of being home.
        Neither Kayla nor Jessica saw any familiar doors during the passage through Metamor, and none of the others had been inside the Keep enough to recognize anything.  Even Misha glanced about wondering where the Keep was taking them.  Only Copernicus and his soldiers strode forward without query, accepting each new block of masonry as if it were no more remarkable than the next tree in a forest.
        They hall dead-ended in a set of double doors with the horse-head seal of the Hassan household on either door.  Four guards stood flanking the door and then lifted their halberds at the lizard’s approach.  A bull grunted and gestured with a turn of his head toward the door. “His grace is expecting you.  Welcome home!”
        Copernicus nodded to the bull. “Thank you, Andhun.” He then opened the doors and gestured for the many companions to follow him in.  His long tail slapped the stonework beneath him as he passed the threshold into a chamber bright from twin chandeliers festooned with crystals as well as candles.  The light reflected everywhere, giving the room an even yellow glow.  In the midst of the room was a circular table with a dozen chairs.  The thirteenth was a throne, and standing before it was Duke Thomas Hassan.
        The great stallion of Metamor smiled to Kayla, Jessica, Abafouq, James, and Lindsey as they entered, and then nodded to both Copernicus and Misha. “Thank you for seeing them here.  It is a great relief to see you five returned safely.  I’ve been told that Charles and your gryphon friend have flown to Glen Avery.  That is well enough, we can do what we must here without them.  Forgive me for not giving you a chance to rest right away.  But there is much that should be said.”
        Flanking Thomas on his right was his adopted daughter Malisa, who served as the Prime Minister for Metamor.  She saw to negotiations with foreign dignitaries and did her best to advise her father on matters of state.  At Thomas’s left was a fruit bat who was less well known to the people of Metamor, but known to all who had dealings with the Duke.  Andwyn was the Chief of Intelligence, the head of all the spies that Metamor employed, and in all likelihood the information centre of the Keep.
        “Indeed there is,” Misha said quickly as he found a seat near the Duke. “But shouldn’t we let them rest first?  They’ve had a very, very long journey.”
        “And some of us,” Darius said, his voice firm and not in the slightest obsequious, “have business elsewhere to attend.”
        Duke Thomas nodded. “I understand.  I will not keep you long, but I must ask you to stay for a short time at least.  I have had food prepared for you.  But I know some of you are not Keepers,” his equine eyes fixed on Jerome, then Aldanto, and finally Darius, “and you’ll want to leave Metamor as soon as you can.  If you tell your side of the story now, it will save you time later.”
        “Pardon, your grace, but why should I speak of it to you?” Darius asked tightly. “Recollection of my experiences can be of no purpose to Metamor or the Ducal House.  Those events are past and the evil that caused them vanquished,” he swept one hand toward his travelling companions, “by your heroes.  I have nothing to offer.”
        One of Andwyn’s eyes lifted in curious appraisal at Darius’s simmering words.  Malisa sucked on her lip for a moment before speaking. “You are Darius Egland, captain of a Pyralian warship, second born son to Baron Majette Egland of northern Pyralia.  You are brother to Sir Yacoub Egland, once a knight of Yesulam, now of Metamor Keep?  Your elder brother and heir to your father’s lands is Baronette Matthan.  Your siblings —”
        Darius stiffened but did not flinch, flicking one hand as he interrupted the Prime Minister. “Yes, yes, that is my name and my House.  Egland has told you as much?”
        “Your brother has told us little beyond his titular name,” Malisa offered into the tense silence. “All else took much study over the months since he came to join us.  Also, you’ve been travelling in the company of the Long Scouts all day long.  Information travels faster than hoof or paw,” Malisa replied cryptically, but she did try to smile as she said it. “It does not matter the exact means, only that we know you are here to see your brother.  He is well, and has comported himself with considerable honour in his time here, having saved the life of a prominent noble residing here during an attack we pushed back a year ago.  Somebody can take you to him once we’re finished here.”
        But Darius was not moved.  His gaze shifted from Malisa and returned to the Duke. “Forgive me your grace, but I have nothing to tell you, nor do I have any wish to relive what few memories I retain from my experiences of the past year.” His jaw clenched as he shook his head stiffly. “I have no desire to be part of your counsels in this, or any other, affair.  I am Pyralian and owe you no fealty, no debt of honour, nor any other obligation except that due to your noble station.  I mean no disrespect, but what I have seen, if told, might compromise my own oaths of fealty, family, and crown.  Forgive me for not wishing to do so.  If you would kindly provide a guide to bring me to my brother, I will be grateful, and that is all I can ask.”
        Thomas grunted but waved one hoof-like hand. “Very well, Captain Egland.  If you would step outside, I’ll have somebody fetched who can take you to your brother.”
        Darius bowed respectfully but briefly to the Duke, then turned and left back the way they’d come.  Once he was gone and the doors shut behind him, Thomas’s eye turned to Aldanto. “And you, Captain Aldanto.  Do you wish to be excused as well.”
        Aldanto shook his head politely, his face set in a warm smile. “I will need to depart soon, but I have letters for you from Regent Sicillian of Sutthaivasse.  I would greatly like to carry a reply back with me when I leave.”
        Thomas gestured to Malisa and nodded. “Give the letters to my daughter and I will have a reply for you tomorrow morning.”  After a moment’s silence, the horse-lord continued. “If there is no other matters to attend to first, let us begin.  Jessica, Kayla, what happened at Marzac?”

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        Charles allowed Kimberly and his children to lead him back to their home underneath the redwood.  The main room was much as he remembered it, with his armour tree next to the door, two couches facing each other and the large hearth, with an open doorway leading to the kitchen, a woodland tapestry covering a closed door leading to their bedroom, and another open doorway that led to the stairwell that circled through the tree up to the where the children slept.
        It was warm with inviting scents inside.  He could smell honey, oats, and pine, as well as wax, grease, and sausages.  Little wooden and cloths toys with the faces of bears, dogs, and rats littered the floor which his children were quick to start grabbing as soon a they scampered inside.  A solitary witchlight danced in the middle of the ceiling, flaring brighter as Kimberly entered.  His home, the one he’d built with Kimberly while exiled from Metamor, and it was nearly exactly as he remembered it.
        Kimberly and Baerle guided him to one of the couches and he sat down, tail curling around and into his lap. “I’ll steep some tea, Charles,” the opossum offered with a warm smile. “I was just getting ready to make sausages for everyone.  Would you care for some?”
        He nodded and did his best to smile. “Thank you, Baerle.”
        “Would you care to stay as well?” she asked Garigan.  He nodded and thanked her.
        While Baerle attended to their meal, Kimberly slid next to Charles, and the four little ones scrambled to get into their laps.  Little Charles was the first into his father’s arms, and he hugged tight, nuzzling with his dark fur. “We missed you, Dada.”
        Charles put one paw on his son’s back and held him close.  The other three all tried to get into his lap and hold him, and he did his best to keep them there close to him.  For a very long time, as sounds of sizzling and steeping came from the kitchen, Charles sat holding his children, letting their love for him, their fear at his anguish, and the warmth and delicacy of their presence ease his hurt.  Kimberly said nothing, but her claws did trail through the fur on the back of his head, her eyes lost in his face, ever returning to the black handprint the Shrieker had given him.  Garigan stoked the fire and kept close to it, eyes ever returning to his master in the Sondecki ways, speculative but loyal.  The rest of the Glenners kept their distance for now, most voluntary, but some, like Marcus, by being dragged by their tails by a much stronger badger.  Guernef had appointed himself guardian of their home and sat perched in the passage between the roots leading down to their door.  None would dare try to pass him.
        Eventually Baerle brought out bowls filled with salted sausage, chopped onions, cheese, and cooked egg.  Five bowls in all.  After Kimberly offered grace, Baerle handed them their spoons and then returned with four cups of tea steaming and sweet with honey.  The children all under the stern direction of their mother, sat in a row on the couch and took turns eating from one bowl.  Charles could not help but marvel at how well they behaved, but he did notice them nudging each other and pulling each other’s tails when they didn’t think their mother was looking.
        The food was delicious, more so for having been the first meal he’d shared with his family in almost eight months.  When they’d each finished, Baerle collected the bowls and spoons and returned them to the kitchen for cleaning.  Charles tried to sip his tea, but the children were already in his lap again, all eyes looking at him with hopeful delight.
        “Thank you,” Charles said to no one in particular.
        Kimberly put a paw on his shoulder and squeezed. “You have no idea how much we’ve missed you, my love.”
        “It can’t have been easy,” he admitted.  He set the tea down and pet his children with both paws in turn.
        “No, which is one reason we stayed here at the Glen.  Everyone helped when we needed it.  And we had no shortage of visitors from Metamor.  Misha came by many times, almost as many as Caroline did.  Sir Saulius as well.  He, the other rats, and several knights were here last month to build a stables for Malicon.  You’ll want to say hello to your pony I’m sure.”
        “Malicon is here too?” Charless ears lifted up for a moment, and then he did his best to smile. “Ah, my friends are better than I give them credit for.  It is hard when you are so far away and facing so many dangers and also, so much weary travel every day, to keep them all in mind.”
        “But they have not forgotten you,” Kimberly said gently. “Nor have your children.”
        “We not forget you, Dada!” Little Erick assured him with a piping squeak.
        Charles kissed the boy on his tan-furred forehead. “I never forget any of you, my sweet little ones.  My children.”
        “Can we hear a story, Dada?” Little Bernadette asked with simple hope.
        “I think so,” he replied. “There’s a few things that your mother will want to hear as well.  Just give me a little room and I’ll tell it.”
        Baerle returned from the kitchen and sat down opposite them while Charles moved his children off his chest and set them between himself and Kimberly on the couch.  They crouched with paws on their Dada’s leg and side.  Four children, not five.  Beneath his tunic the vine curled in close, deftly avoiding their inquisitive paws.
        “Now, I have been travelling for a very long time.  I will tell you all of what I saw, but not today.  There is too much to tell.” And far too much pain and horror for their young ears to hear. “But I will tell you about two things that happened to me on this journey.  It began last Summer Solstice, the day after I say goodbye to you in your beds and left with Sir Saulius to compete in the joust as his squire.  And compete we did.  And win.  But that is a tale for another time.”
        Their saucer-shaped ears were turned to catch every word; their eyes, dark and wide, seemed like wells whose bottoms were hidden by shadow.  Kimberly stroked the fur on the back of their heads and straightened their tunics and breeches from where they’d tangled them in their eagerness to cuddle their father.
        Charles lapped his very warm tea and then continued. “After the joust, I was summoned to Duke Thomas’s council chambers.  There we learned that some very bad people were up in the belfry at Metamor and were preparing to cast a dark spell.” His children quivered with excitement. “All of us, Misha, James, myself and many others rushed up to the belfry to put a stop to it.  There was a very big battle and though they were only three, they summoned dark evil creatures known as Shriekers to aid them.  Shriekers are dark and black like the night, and their scream is so awful that it will make you cold like a winter’s night if you hear it!  Now James managed to kill one of them by swinging a big bell into its head.  And that Shrieker’s head went pop like a soap bubble!” The children giggled happily, not having any idea what a Shrieker was, but they sounded scary enough. “Now, one of the other Shrieker’s was sneaking up on him, and I pushed him out of the way.  That’s when the Shrieker struck me, and that’s how I got this mark on my face.”
        When he pointed to the handprint, little Charles reached out a paw to touch it again.  He leaned down and let them feel the blackened flesh from which no fur would grow.  His little claws pricked along the pebbly surface, and then he smiled and sat back on his haunches.  None of the others wanted to touch it just yet, so he continued with his tale.
        “Well, we managed to kill all the Shriekers, but then, as I rushed to stop one of the spellcasters from completing their evil spell, I fell into a trap!” His children gasped. “That’s right, a trap!  It was a magical trap too.  I started to turn into stone.” At this, he met Kimberly’s worried gaze and gave a brief nod. “But I hid myself inside my Sondeck, and that saved my soul even as my body became nothing more than granite.”
        “How did you escape da trap, Dada?” Little Baerle asked in a small voice.
        “Well, after all the evil mages were gone, a friendly mage from distant mountains in the east, where no Keeper had ever set paw, high up where it snows all year round, he came and helped me.  He knew how to make stone move and live again.  And so for a while, I was made out of stone, but stone that could move and was alive.  And once we defeated the evil mage who’d cast this spell on me, I became flesh again.  Just like you see me now.  But I gained something else.  I can make my flesh stone again whenever I want!”
        He held up his left arm as his right was being held tight by all four of his children.  He spread his fingers and one by one the flesh became gray and hard.  He flexed the fingers and held them out to his children.  They all rubbed their little paws over his stony fingers, curious with wide whiskers and trembling noses.  The others all stared with unsettled eyes.  The children could accept this easily, but not they.
        Charles looked to them in turn, but returned his eyes to Kimberly. “It is all right.  It does not hurt me at all, but it is not something I will do if it frightens you.”
        His wife shook her head, and then made a show of a brave smile.  She reached out her hand and rubbed her fingers across the stone. “It’s so cold.”
        “I am cold as stone,” Charles replied. “It made being apart from you easier for a time.  As stone, I didn’t feel the same way as I do now.” His heart fluttered at the mere suggestion of emotion.  Only the delight in his children’s faces, and the familiar surroundings of his home were keeping the misery of lost Ladero at bay. “But I don’t have to be stone anymore.  It is just something I can do.  And no, I’m not going to let Misha use this as a pretext to send me on other missions.  I will have to report to the Duke on what I’ve seen, but after, I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
        Kimberly smiled more firmly at that.  Baerle came to her side and also touched his stone paw, her bright eyes full of wonder. “Can you feel us while stone?” The opossum asked.
         “Faintly.  My sense of touch isn’t as strong while stone,” he replied.  He flexed his fingers one more time and the flesh returned, grey flaring to a colourful beige. “But being stone did aid us greatly on our journey.  As living stone, I discovered I could move through any rock, any boulder, anything that was fashioned from mineral.  I had to be careful, because some of the mountains didn’t like my intrusion and tried to trap me for themselves.  But the smaller rocks and slates are often friendly, as friendly as stone is, and told me many things.  It was... and is... very strange to me.  But that is not all that has become strange, or that has changed in me since I went on this journey.”
        “Oh, what else happened, Dada!” Little Erick bounced on his legs, tail swatting Kimberly’s arm in his excitement.
        “After we left the mountains, sometime in early September, we entered a magical forest.  It’s called the Åelfwood, and it is far to the east, in a land where no humans or Glenners go.  An ancient people make their home there, and we visited their city.  But before we arrived, strange beings known as the Wind Children came upon us. We couldn’t see them, but they carried the leaves and even a mushroom about them as they moved.  They made faces at us in the leaves, reflecting our own faces.  It was very beautiful.
        “But they were very interested in me, and after exploring my stony flesh for a while, for I was still stone then, they left a present for me.  A vine that they planted in my flesh just above my tail.  It grew as we continued to journey, and it even protected us on many occasions from terrible evil.”
        “A vine?” Kimberly asked, her face perplexed.
        “Aye, a vine of ivy.  It even flowered while it grew.  But then when we’d reached the end of our journey, I had to face one of our enemies in battle.  He was slain, but not before my vine was burned and much of it destroyed.  I had to place it in my back again so that it could regain strength and life.  And it is there now, still curling over my chest.  Let me show you.”
        His children watched in fascination as he slipped free of his leather vest and then pulled his tunic over his head.  His wife, her nursemaid, and his Sondecki student all gazed at him with various levels of trepidation and curiosity.  He heard Kimberly gasp when he lifted the shirt over his head.  His children oohed at the green vine circling twice round his chest and back.  The vine kept close to his flesh, with little curlicues dangling from the main trunk, most with buds forming at their ends.  No flowers had emerged yet, but he knew with the Spring there would be many.
        Charles smiled to Kimberly as best he was able.  His four children, not five, climbed onto his lap to feel the vine with their paws and whiskers and sniff it with their noses.  Little Charles looked up into his face, brown fur puffing up, “Are you gonna turn into a plant, Dada?”
        He laughed, a little thing, then shook his head. “No, my son.  The vine just needs me to gain strength.  I can remove it from my flesh at any time.  But it will always be a part of me.  It is a gift from the Wind Children, one that I will treasure always.”
        One of the curlicues wrapped about Little Baerle’s pink paw and she squeaked in surprise. “You see,” Charles said, “it likes you.  It knows you are my children.”
        Kimberly leaned in closer, her eyes hopeful mixed with trepidation.  One paw reached out, touched the vine, and instantly drew back as if it were a hot coal. “Why did all this happen to you?”
        “I don’t know,” Charles admitted. “I’m sorry if it frightens you, my love.  But there is nothing else.  I am flesh, the vine will not always be upon me, and this scar does not cause me any pain.  It is a sign to me of strength and deliverance.  I can think of no other man who has been touched by a Shrieker and survived.  If the vine disturbs you, I will do what I can to wean it from my flesh as quickly as possible.  I know seeing any part of me as stone is frightening, so I will not use that unless I have no other choice.  But I am still me, and I still love you, my Lady Kimberly.”
        Baerle almost looked like she were pouting. “But what are you going to do with it?”
        “I don’t rightly know,” he admitted with a shrug.  The end of the vine curled from around his back and tried to hug his children.  The squeaked in fright at the moving plant and scampered backward.  Charles reached up and pet the end of the vine, letting it brush against his cheek. “Once the ground thaws, I could plant my friend outside at the base of our home and let him keep it safe that way.”
        Kimberly nervously lapped at her tea and nodded. “That... that is a good idea.”
        Charles lowered his head, and sighed with chest, shoulders, and tongue. “Please don’t be afraid of this, my love.  I’ve already lost somebody dear to me, somebody I barely got to know.  I wasn’t even able to be here to be with him.  Please don’t be afraid.  This vine is a part of me too.”
        She said nothing, eyes closed tight, paws wrapped about her tea cup.
        Garigan stuffed a couple more logs into the hearth and then walked behind his master.  He set one paw on the rat’s back just beneath a coil and he felt the presence of the ferret’s Sondeck sink into him.  His voice echoed in his ears and in his mind. “You’re right, Charles.  The vine is a part of you.  I can feel it, gentle, protective, and loyal.  There’s a fierceness there too.  I doubt it will ever do any of us harm.  You should believe him, Kimberly.”
        At that her eyes snapped open, and a she displayed a fierceness of her own, incisors gnawing at the air. “I do!” She stilled a tremble in her paws and then repeated, “I do.  I love you, Charles.  I believe in you.  It’s just a lot to accept in so short a time.”
        “It’s been almost eight months, my love,” he said softly, gently.  He laid one paw atop one of hers. “A lot has happened, to both of us.”
        “Tell me more.  Tell us all of it.”
        He could not deny her, nor his family.  He looked at his four children, not five, and the ache blossomed inside of him again.  Much had happened to them both.  Neither of them were the same person they were when last they’d set eyes on each other. “It is a long story from me, my love.  But I will tell it to you.” He smiled to Baerle who smiled back with her usual enticing charm, and then to Garigan who’d returned to his place by the hearth.  His gaze swept back to his wife and children.  Already they were bouncing up and down, tails and whiskers a twitter, excited that they’d get another story from their Dada.
        “There were eight of us who left Metamor that day almost eight months ago: James my friend whom you know, Jessica the hawk who’d been a student of Wessex, Kayla the skunk who served under Phil, Lindsey from the timber crews, Habakkuk the Felikaush who knew the secrets of the future and who was a truer friend than even I could ever understand, Guernef the Nauh-kaee who even now stands guard at our door, Abafouq the Binoq who gave my stony flesh the ability to move and speak, and I myself.  We journeyed into the mountains east of Metamor, an expanse of snow, ice and many wondrous sights I’ll never see again...”

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias
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