Search Results for 'run'

“Well, what a coincidence!” exclaimed Bea, as her freind Baked Bean Barb described the book she had just started reading. It was all about ancient inscriptions in Antartica, which was what Bea had been reading about online just before Barb arrived.

“Some of it’s fact” Barb was saying “But the rest of it’s made up; interesting though!”

“Oh, I can’t wait til they find remains of the civilization under the ice there!” Bea said, to which Barb replied “There’s no civilization there. Nope. There’s nothing ever been found, nothing at all scientifically proven about that. The book’s fiction.”

“Well, they haven’t found it yet, Barb ~ if the scientists had proof, it would be found already. Until things are found they don’t exist?”

“There’s nothing there, there’s no proof!” Barb said firmly, shaking her head.

“What about all the new things we keep finding out about, before we knew about them, they didn’t exist, is that what you mean?” Bea persisted, trying to get her point accross. Then she wondered why she was trying to get her point accross in the first place. She knew what her point was.

Well, at least I think I do, she said to herself.

“Fancy a cuppa, Barb? Leo bought some nice nettle teabags, how’s that sound?”

“Ooh yes please! Got anymore of those gingerbread men?”

Sometimes the actual point wasn’t at all the same thing as the point you thought you were making. Bea gave herself points for noticing this, although she wasn’t at all sure what the point of the whole thing was, objectively anyway. Distraction tactics always worked, but once summoned, the distractions were indiscriminate and chaotic. On the way to the kitchen to put the kettle on, Bea glanced out of the window and noticed a shaft of light illuminating the rocks and casting deep shadows into the crevices, the resulting effect looking for all the world like mysterious ancient inscriptions. She reached out for her camera, which was always conveniently handy, as she strode out of the door, single minded in pursuit of the capture of a moment of light as if drawn by a magnet, or reeled in like a fish.

Barb eventually found her, some 57 minutes later, pruning the oleander down by the stream.

“Elizabeth!” Godfrey strode into the room, and slapped the Reality Times down on her desk. “How dreadfully embarrassing! Your economy is considered to be a basket case, it’s in the news for heavens sake!”

“I never economize, Godfrey, what on Ooh are you talking aboot?” replied Elizabeth tartly.

“THE economy, Liz, not your housekeeping affairs!”

“What housekeeping affairs, dear? Do calm down, Finnley takes care of all that”

Godfrey flung himself into an overstuffed armchair, running the back of his hand across his brow. “Perhaps it’s because your currency is the Illusion, Liz. People are afraid to buy things with illusions you know.”

“Well, there’s not alot of point in hoarding illusions is there? I had no idea the general poopulace was hoarding illusions, honestly, you just can’t get the poopulace these days, not like the oold days when everyone was spend spend spend….well, what do you suggest?”

With the weak Scottish sun warming their backs, India Louise and Cuthbert made sand castles on the deserted beach. Very few holidaymakers visited The Orkneys in the days when the Wrick twins were growing up (Elizabeth was tempted to add ‘whenever that was’ but refrained) and they had the beautiful sweep of coastline to themselves, all but for their nanny, the eccentric Breton, who was sitting on a tartan blanket in the sand dunes practicing her Scottish accent. Nanny had heard somewhere that a Scottish accent had been voted the ‘most reassuring in an emergency’, and in her position as nanny, she felt it would be an advantage, especially while working for the eccentric and adventurous Wrick family.

Seagulls squawked overhead as she recited “… pRRoid te the lowkel in-abitents und steps av bin tayken in RResunt yeers… to improve the appearance of the city …… impRRoov the appeeRents uv the citay…”

Nanny’s studies were interrupted by shrieks from the two children, who were running down to the waters edge, pointing towards an unusual object which appeared to be floating towards them on the incoming tide.

By the time Nanny reached the children the mysterious floating contraption had beached itself on the sand. As India Louise and Cuthbert paddled over to it, a wizened and emaciated Ella Marie Tindale whooped and cackled “Hooley Mooley, that was quoot a rood!”

“Och aye, ma wee bairns, dinnae tooch it!” shouted Nanny “Ye dinnae ken owt aboot it, och! Oof, and what ‘ave we ‘ere, what eez zeess?” she said, lapsing back into her natural French accent, in a state of shock at what the tide had brought in.

The twins became alarmed immediately, backing away and asking nervously “Is it an alien?” “Is it a ghost?” so Nanny resumed the reassuring Scottish accent.

“Nay ma wee poppets, och and it’s nowt but anoother mummay!”

Cuthbert and India Louise exchanged looks surreptitiously. “What does she mean, ‘another’ mummy?” whispered Cuthbert to his sister. “How did she find out about the mummy in the unlocked room?”

“I don’t know!” she whispered back “Maybe she heard me telling Bill!”

Nanny gave both of the children a cuff round the back of the neck, reminding them of their manners.

“Help ze lady off and ztop zat rude wheezpering!”

Becky sipped her coffee nervously, chain-smoking as she waited for Al and Sam to return from the crystal shopping excursion. She wasn’t sure if Al would approve of yet more characters in the Reality Play with so many loose threads already, all getting tangled up and dusty like so many balls of wool under the bed. Like dust bunnies, Becky thought with a chuckle. It was funny how the play had so many different moods, almost as if it had a life of its own. Well, I suppose the play itself is a sort of focus of attention in its own right, a conglomeration of the energies of a variety of essences, creating its own reality from its own perspective. But wait a minute, thought Becky, lighting up another cigarette, how is that different from me, for that matter? I am a conglomeration of the energies of fragmented essences creating my own reality from my own perspective too. Does that make me nothing more than a Reality Play —or, does that make the play a Focus of Essences?

The line of thought was giving Becky a bit of a headache so she flicked through Al’s latest entries. Clever old Al had been tapping into his Spreal focus when he came up with those silly names, funny how it often worked out like that. A nonsense word here, a bit of gibberish there, none of it meaningless, and none of it meaning anything absolute, either. The secret of life, Becky decided, was in Not being Afraid Of Nonsense. People were so afraid of Nonsense, as if to be caught speaking Nonsense was a heinous crime, or at best a severe handicap, possibly resulting in some form of custody or social alienation. All you had to do was find other people who resonated with your own version of Nonsense, which happened automatically anyway vibrationally. There are thousands variations of Nonsense, and none of them make any more sense than any other, thanks to the Equality In Nonsense underground movement a few decades ago. Equality In Nonsense was started by a group of online friends a few years after the Ministry Of Common Sense had disbanded through lack of interest. It caught on quickly, making a mockery of common sense, which went underground, a few die-hards hanging on with grim faced tedium to the old tenets. Over the years, as the Acceptance Of Nonsense Rights was established, the Equality In Nonsense brigade disbanded to get down to the business of creating new variations of Nonsense, just for fun —which was of course, The Point. Nevertheless, or should I say, notwithstanding, Becky smiled, there still remained a degree of common sense in the general populace, which possibly wasn’t altogether a bad thing.

It all got a in a bit of a muddle for awhile, until some enterprising folks published the handy guide books ‘Cooperation Within Nonsense ~ How To Communicate In Your Chosen Nonsense’, and ‘Accepting Total Nonsense ~ How To Deal With The Nonsense Of Others’.

“Roots” exclaimed Elizabeth “I forgot the theme word!”
“No doubt you’ll come up with an ingenioos way to slide it in, Liz” replied Godfrey with a smirk. “Pass the poonuts.”

A disgruntled Elizabeth rewrote:

“Rats!” I forgot the theme word!”

Unfortunately, Pig Littleton insisted on using the OOh dimension vernacular, and Elizabeth tutted and hit send.

“Oh no! Last night’s frost has killed all the blibilong plants!” exclaimed Snettie, shivering in the unnatural cold. “Honestly, this global freezing is spoiling everything. If blibilong plants can’t stand this cold, then nothing will grow here anymore, and I am sick to death of eating leopard seal with no greens.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. What I wouldn’t give for a nice fresh sun warmed bobbit fruit. All the smikkerts have migrated north as well, I haven’t seen one for months” replied Snooter. “I don’t know if I can stick around here for much longer myself.”

“But this is our home, Snooter!” Snettie started to cry, her tears freezing on her cheeks. We’re Sprealians, we’ve always lived here. Where will we go?”

Snooter hugged Snettie. “I suppose we’ll have to go north, like the rest of them.”

Snooter and Snettie gazed around at the deserted city. Alabash had been built around the shores of Lake Flom, in the mild and temperate regions of central Spreal (later, much later, Spreal was referred to as Gondwana, but Snooter and Snettie didn’t know that. And they certainly didn’t know that the remains of their civilization was to disappear under masses of ice for so long that all memory of them was long forgotten, and that anyone mad enough to suggest that they once existed would be considered a bit of a nutter).

“Snettie, I think the time has come” Snooter said solemnly. “I think we have to go north. There’s only old Spagwan left here now besides us, and his daughter Illiofilly. We’ll never survive here with just four of us, even if it didn’t get any colder, and it is getting colder, every day. Why, the first four floors of all our buildings are iced up now for heaven’s sake. What happens when the ice reaches the top floors? Then what?”

“We’ll all be dead by then, Snooter” Snettie sighed “By rights we should probably be dead now. When we run out of furniture to burn to keep warm, then what? All the trees are dead and buried in ice.”

“We’ll come back though, when it warms up again. This can’t last forever, and when it’s over, we’ll come back.” Snooter said optimistically.

“How long do you think it’ll be?” Snettie asked her husband.

“Oh, not long, a few years at most. Don’t worry, you’ll be back home before you know it, but for now, let’s go and find some warmth and some decent food, eh?”

“Ok, but first I want to leave something, some message or clue or something, in case anyone comes back here before we do, so they know we’re coming back”

After that strange dream, Yann had completely forgotten about the city and the puzzle reality game and the park. He’d caught a cold and a disturbing hiccup that made his thoughts hard to follow. He’d been wanting to do so many things during that week end, and it was all running away from him.

Yurick was preparing him some medicine made from essence drops and jasmine tea, and Yann particularly enjoyed how his friend was taking care of him… he was feeling like a child of about 8. Though he was grumpy and mumbling a lot, he was pleased that they shared this occasion to talk about everything and nothing in particular. When Yurick told him about a lightus flower and a spam about a puzzle, Yann remembered his dream and what he saw there. He was telling his friend about the different patterns he saw in that park and that’s when emerged the idea of a book.

The 2 friends were quite excited about the idea of a hidden city, yet to unfold. This book would be one step toward its manifestation.

Yann, who was quite readily passionate about weird things was already imagining walking the ground of the park and hearing the sound of the water condensing from no cloud and falling in the even pong.

“And you know what? That teacher you were listening to in my dream, something in his way of speaking reminds me of Aleksane…”

“I have the impression of a hearty laugh, an eye and a thrilling atmosphere”, said Yurick.

“Wait a minute, you’re telling me that you’re a Parcel Delivery company, and you don’t have a map? You deliver parcels and you don’t have a map, you don’t have the internet, and your delivery man doesn’t have a phone?”

Bea was beginning to sound exasperated, Leonora thought. Must be the parcel people. “Parcel people?” she asked. “ A mobile phone wouldn’t be any use here anyway, Bea” she added “There’s no network cover.”

“My address?” Bea said into the telephone in an increasingly desperate voice. “Three people have called asking for my address” Bea took a deep breath and tried to change her energy. “My address is The House Down The Road Behind The Black Horse Bar” Bea paused for breath and continued “Through The Green Gates which are Behind The Fountain And Next To The Palm Tree. Tomorrow? You were supposed to come today! You were supposed to come yesterday as a matter of fact so I stayed home all day…”

“You weren’t going out anywhere anyway, Bea” Leo said mildly.

“Well I won’t be here tomorrow, can you just leave the parcel at the post office? What? Of course they’ll know who it’s for, it’ll have my bloody name and address on it! What? No, I don’t know what street the post office is on, haven’t you got a map? No? Well Google it! You’re kidding. You’re a parcel delivery company! What’s your name, by the way?”

“Well would you believe it, she hung up on me!”

“How wonderfully Spanish” said Leonora. “Remember the last parcel people? Wouldn’t deliver to houses without a number. So if I go out and paint a number, let’s say 57, on my gate, you’ll deliver the parcel, I said to them, and they said, well yes I suppose so, so I did. I went out to the shed and grabbed the first paint…”

“That swimming pool blue”

“…yeah bit bright isn’t it, that blue paint and I painted the number on it, and the neighbours came out and asked what I was doing…”

“They delivered the parcel though, didn’t they Leo”

“They did. There’s a knack to dealing with parcel people.”

Bea was quiet for a few minutes and then asked “What’s that then?”

“What’s what?” asked Leonora.

“What’s the knack? How do you get parcel people to deliver?”

Leo laughed and said she didn’t really know. “Change your energy, make a game of it, see what happens.”

Just then the phone rang. Bea answered it.

“Well how about that” said Bea, hanging up the phone a few moments later. “That was the parcel delivery man. He’s on his way now.”

Five or six hours later, just after the parcel delivery man had finally arrived, Bea beamed as she opened the brown cardboard parcel.

“I’ve been dying to read this, it’s the sequel to T’Eggy Gets a Good Rogering. I ordered two copies, I thought Baked Bean Barb might want one too, you know, as a bit of a thank you for the book she’s bringing round for us.”

Leo said “You what!” and rolled her eyes. “Really Bea, couldn’t you have chosen something better than that?”

“Define ‘better’, Miss Prim Prunes” retorted Bea. She was too happy about the books arrival to mind Leo’s remarks. Then she shouted “OH MY GOD! They’ve sent the wrong books!” so loudly that Leo jumped.

“Good grief!” exclaimed Leonora, taking a closer look. “Circle of Eights! But that’s the book that Baked Bean Barb found on the rubbish tip, the book she’s bringing round for us!”

“I don’t believe it!” Bea whispered, awed by the bizarre coincidence. “That’s the book with us in it.”

“What a hoot!” said Leo.

“You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

Elizabeth read the last two lines she’d been working on to her publisher, Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

Godfrey snorted. “Elizabeth, really! You jest, I hope.”

“Well, I was just trying to fit each of the four themes into one chapter, they all seemed to fit together so easily” Elizabeth replied. “Why not? Tempestuous, Elusive Dreams, Unspoken Looks, and Pleasure”

“You seemed to have fit them all into two sentences, never mind a chapter. And your characters sound like characters in a play.”

“Well they are characters in a play, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth.

“Ham actors, that’s what I meant. Anyway, Liz” Pig-Littleton said with a slightly mischievous grin, “What if Gayesh doesn’t want his face slapped by Becky?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if Becky doesn’t want to slap Gayesh?”

“Well, she will if I write it into the play, surely!” Elizabeth started to frown. She knew that once she invented her characters that they continued to exist in a reality of their own, being free to create their own realities in whatever probable dimension they found themselves in, but she had never really stopped to think about the ramifications of her continuing to write incidents into their lives.

“Maybe Becky has moved on from where you left her last time you wrote about her, in a completely different direction” Godfrey continued “And maybe she doesn’t want to play along with your theme word game. I mean really, is it fair to make her? Maybe she was having more fun doing whatever it was she was doing while you weren’t even thinking about what she should do. Quite rude really to interrupt her just so that you could do your word theme games. Bit of a cheek, I’d say.”

“Oh Godfrey, that’s easily explained” Elizabeth had remembered Probabilities, which was always a handy excuse in continuity disputes. “Another probable character will do what I write for them to do, there are probably hundreds of probable characters now, all going in different directions.”

“Is that wise? Really Elizabeth, that sounds outrageously irresponsible. Hundreds of probable characters running amok, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re all getting up to.”

“Well they’re not my responsibility Godfrey, for heavens sake!”

“Well if they’re not your responsibility, then who’s responsible for them?”

“Nobody is responsible for them!”

“Well that sounds like a recipe for chaos if you ask me” Godfrey said with a sniff. “You’ve unleashed hundreds of probable Becky’s into reality, not to mention Leo’s and Bea’s….”

“And Pig-Littleton’s” Elizabeth interjected under her breath.

“… and Sanso’s and Dory’s” Godfrey, who hadn’t heard Elizabeth, continued to reel off the characters names. “I mean how big do you think reality is? The rate you’re filling it up with probable characters there’ll be no space left!”

Elizabeth started to laugh. “Oh Godfrey, you’re a case. Ahahah! They don’t take up any space at all! Anyway, Godfrey” Elizabeth turned back to her notepad. “Listen to the latest chapter and tell me what you think:

“You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

Godfrey Pig-Littleton was impressed. “Elizabeth, how perfectly you incorporated the four themes into one brilliantly short chapter”

Elizabeth closed her notebook with a satisfied smile and yawned. Let them all do whatever the bloody hell they all want to, I’m off to bed. Plenty of probable characters available in the morning, waiting in the wings.

“Hey, Leo, look at this here in the newspaper ~ my book’s being made into a movie!”

“What book’s that then, Bea? Not that dreadful ‘T’eggy Gets a Good Rogering’, surely.” Leonora replied dismissively.

“Oh they’re not calling it that for the movie…..”

“Bloody good job if you ask me” Leo interrupted, and then exclaimed “OH!”

“What?”

“Book sync!”

“Book sync? What book sync?”

“I forgot to tell you, Baked Bean Barb called…”

“Who?!”

“You remember, we met her in that bar down on the coast awhile back, remember? We got talking over a few tapas ~ found we had some mutual friends back home and all…”

“Funny how that happens, eh ~ small world, innit? So what did she call for then?”

“Well, it’s the funniest thing, she said when she was rummaging around on the rubbish tip….”

“Oh now I remember, you mean Baked Bean Barb! The one that’s lived in her Ford Fiesta for 15 years, and finds food in dustbins? That one? On the run, wasn’t she?”

“That’s the one! On the run for 30 years because of that Baked Bean Incident that was in all the papers”

“You meet all sorts down here, eh. So what did she call for?”

“Well” continued Leonora “It’s the strangest thing! She said she found a book on the rubbish tip, which was in English, so she says she took the book ~ she reads alot you know, Barb does, even though she’s only got one eye. Dunno how she manages it really, her glasses are always so dirty…”

“Will you get to the point?”

“Hang on, hang on, I’m getting there….she found this book, right, so she goes back to wherever she’s camped up, you know, with the other travellers, all them old hippies on their way to Morocco for the winter I expect….”

“We should go with them next winter Leo, might be fun”

“I reckon it would Bea ~ well with Jose coming back soon from that island, we’ll have to go somewhere ~ anyway, as I was saying, Barb starts reading this book, she says it’s the most peculiar book she’s ever read, never read anything like it, she says, but she can’t put it down she says ~ well, you’ll never guess what!”

“I can’t guess, Leo, I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

“Barb says we’re in the book!”

“What do you mean, we’re in the book?”

“We’re in the book! ‘Leonora and Beattie’ are in the book! Renting a finca from a ‘Jose’ and living in the mountains in Andalucia!”

“You’re having me on!” exclaimed Bea. “I’ve gotta see this to believe it.”

“Norm! NORM!!” Sue Flay shouted. “We’re filming the garden scene now, where are you?”

But Norm was nowhere to be found. He’d stumbled upon an unexpected problem while filming T’Eggy & Phlynn with Sue Flay ~ a problem too embarrassing to mention, and one he could hardly keep a secret, given the nature of the P Movie. He’d managed to excuse himself during the last scene, feigning illness, but what if it happened again today?

“You’re focusing on what you don’t want again, Norm.” The voice made him jump. He’d thought he was alone in the treehouse, he thought no-one would find him hiding there in the leafy depths of the spinney, high up in the foliage. He looked around, wondering where the voice was coming from.

“You haven’t generated me physical, Norm, but you can if you wish” the voice said.

“How do I do that?” asked Norm.

“Allow, that’s all” the voice replied.

“Oh what rubbish!” Norm said in an agitated whisper. “What stupid advice!”

“Ha ha ha! As you wish, my friend” replied the voice, sounding rather amused.

“If you hadn’t just given me such stupid advice I might have felt more inclined to ask you for some advice about this awful problem” Norm whispered crossly.

“Are you asking me for advice or not?”

“Well if you’ve got anything USEFUL to say, then say it!”

“If you go down to the garden today,
You’re sure to have a surprise.
There’s a herb growing there and you don’t have to pay,
It’s growing in front of your eyes.
The magic you see is everywhere
It never runs out of stock
Go down to the garden, if you dare….”

“I asked you for advice, not a daft bloody poem!” Norm hissed.

“You wish to be hard as a rock?”

“YES!” spat Norm in frustration, blushing furiously. What’s the friggen garden got to do with it?”

“There’s a herb in the garden called Horny Goat “

“Oh PulEASE…..” Norm rolled his eyes.

“Horny Goat Weed will do the trick.
And straighten up your droopy…”

“ENOUGH! Good Grief, I get the message. What am I supposed to DO with it, roll in it? Eat it? Smoke it?”

“It matters not, my friend. That’s the magic of it all. You can choose any method”

“Are you sure about this?” asked Norm, who was willing to try anything at this point. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Ha ha ha! Trust youSELF, Norm!”

“Who are you anyway?” Norm asked suspiciously.

But the voice chuckled and faded, leaving Norm in a quandary in the treehouse.

“Oh bugger it, I may as well give it a go. I can’t stay here forever, and anyway, I’ve run out of cigarettes.”

Norm climbed down the tree and marched over to the the film crew.

“Oh THERE you are Norm!” Sue came rushing up to him. “What perfect timing, we’re breaking for lunch.” She gave Norm a spontaneous hug. She really was rather nice, Norm thought, smiling at her.

“Would you like some soup? We put lots of fresh herbs in it from the garden.”

This door is influenced by the energy you irradiate.

You have to trust your energy in order for it to lead you to the most fulfilling place.

Irtak drew his hand closer to the rippling surface of the door. Its aspect was so changing that it was like he was seeing all the tiniest elements that composed the matter, whatever it was. Hesitating, he asked Leormn.

— Are you trying one of your tricks on me? It’s like I’m hypnotized.

He’s not trying to lure you in… said Jeckle.
The vibration you are currently feeling is the resonance of your energy with the one filtering through that door. said Heckle. I suspect it comes from another realm…
But it is close to this one, Jeckle added. His muzzle quivered with excitement. I feel a friendly energy filtering from the other side.

The waves of curiosity emitted by his friends were compelling, and Leormn could feel it. He himself was very interested by what he could feel was some kind of counterpart of himself. He was familiar with the energy but it was somewhat different from his own.

Our strong desire is maintaining the door open. We can go safely through it and return in no time… he suggested in a soft persuasive tone.

Arona, who was feeling a bit forgotten, grunted and added a tad dubious :
— I’m not sure we should do it. We should tell the others… Where are they by the way?

Apparently, the dragons and the boy were more fascinated by what was leaking out of her drawing. She’d been a bit surprised that one of her creations… if one could call the few brushstrokes a creation… that it could produce such an odd reaction. She couldn’t help but notice that the two words were anagrams.

Leormn looked at her with a renewed interest.

I’m feeling you are connected to that other realm, dear Arona. We all are in a way, but it’s like your lineage came from that… gate. Would you dare find out about your origin?

She looked at him dubiously. His gaze was so intense that one moment…

— Are you serious? she asked.

He grinned… Who knows… if you don’t go you may never find out and I’m sure the others can take care of themselves when we are gone.

Saying that he jumped on the other side like he was acting on a whim.

The twins looked at each other and followed him… and Irtak was next…
What was she to do?
It was almost as if the door was staring at her. Challenging her… and she didn’t really like to be alone in these dark corridors.
She jumped in and felt completely stretched out for what seemed a few seconds. She almost lost sense of who she was when an image started to form in her mind.

It expanded until she was surrounded by a warm sensation of well being and lightness. She was completely safe in this place.
A sudden woosh and a sensation of cold. She fell on the floor, her members suddenly failing her. The light was completely different and she couldn’t hear anything. Panic began to overwhelm her and she realized she couldn’t emit any sound either.

As suddenly as it was gone, her sense of hearing reappeared.

Who was shouting like that?

Arona… Arona!

The directedness in the tone was enough to make her recover her balance. She stopped shouting and began to notice her other senses… nothing particular at first, but she had the weird impression that it was different. Looking around her, she saw that the dragons were sniffing around like puppies and Irtak was following them like one of them.

— Where are we? she asked Leormn.
The sound of her voice was lower-pitched than usual, and Leormn started to laugh at her look of dismay.

Hahaha! I don’t know yet… but we have all the time to discover.

— Can’t we come back to the cave now? I don’t feel comfortable here… look at the sand, it’s purple… maybe it’s some kind of bacteria or something, maybe it’s contagious…

He gave her one of those irritating wink. She was about to retort bluntly when she realized there was no way back.
The door had disappeared.

The creaking sound of the door reminded her of a young lampürnok during the mating season on the Duane. Loads of lamprunki (plural for lampürnok) near Mount Elok’ram in her little village.

The pock-marked face of Pavel appeared at the door.

— Pheeeebe! I am sooo glaad we meet again.

He entered and sat on what was supposed to be a bed.

— I can’t say I’m glad, Pavel.

She snorted.

— Last time I saw you, you were running away with one of my possessions. And by the Elder gods! Couldn’t you do something about your monstrous face with all that I taught you? Well, Georges was always better than you could be… I wonder where he is currently…

She had said that more to herself than to get any answer from him. He didn’t depart from his smile and his apparently joyous mood.

— Well, at least I saved you from a cerrrrtain death. And I know how grateful you arrre inside yourrrrself.

That horrid accent of his. It had always made her shudder. But she had to cope with it… for now. She needed to know where she was and why he seemed so sure he would find her there at that very moment. What was he looking for, and how was the Baron involved in all this.

— You know that I never liked small-talk. Why don’t you tell me what you want and stop pretending to be what you can’t be? All you can do is work for someone else. You’re too stupid and too coward to take any initiative. You’re too numb to use your imagination…

She didn’t like the quavering quality of her voice. She had to be dead tired that she was loosing her temper like that.
She cowered back in her chair as he started to move closer, his face suddenly twisted in anger. It was obvious he wouldn’t touch her, he still feared her, she could see it in his eyes… but he also knew that she was quite powerless at the moment. She’d almost drowned in that mass of water, it had changed her in a way she couldn’t fathom yet, and she could feel a small ball of anguish deep inside. She thought for a moment he would beat her. Though he managed to compose his fake joyful expression again.

— Listen Pheeeebee, I’m not the impulsive lad you knew. And though I’m not as good as the Dandy I can still impress you, I’m sure of it. But we’re not here to speak about parlor tricks or measure our prowess.

She couldn’t help but notice that he had lost his accent.

— The Baron… yes I work for him now… another old friend of yours… I wonder how old you are

As she was frowning he continued.

— Nonetheless, he needs your help in Hawaii.

A dim light in her mind. So he was after the skulls too. She had to be more cautious about what she could blurt out, especially in her condition.

Sam wanted to see by himself. He had suddenly remembered what Becky had told them once about a pet shop with a nine-tailed glowing fox. He hadn’t paid attention at the moment, but this was somewhat reappearing in his dreams lately. One of his focuses was the link, and he was seeing his face more and more looking directly at him.
He usually wasn’t speaking with his other selves, he was rather directly exchanging energy with them. At first it had been a bit awkward, practicing with telepathy and conversing with his friends was his main focus of interest. But once he was aware of how he could do that more easily and more efficiently, his attention wandered to other means of communication.
Eschraiel was currently nudging him, and his animal form was quite intriguing. Especially since there were those kind of animals living now!
He had arrived at the shop without really paying attention. He was following his guts to lead him exactly where he wanted.
Being soft, in the kind of mode of processing he was in currently, the people around were like objects around merged with his environment, nothing standing out. Except maybe that woman in front of the big parrot cage… no, not the woman but the color of her gown, a deep indigo, vibrant and shiny. She turned her smiling face in his direction, but it was like Eschraiel’s energy superimposed on hers. He smiled back at her and continued to the rear of the shop.

The creatures were in a dark room, their fur glowing with rusty and fiery shades. Apparently very engrossed in chasing each others tails… they had quite a lot to keep them busy. The little ones especially were jumping heartily on the older ones. Challenging them to retaliate… but getting apparently no response from them except a few grunts.

No particular feeling at first.

One of the little ones, maybe…

This one. One of the older ones. A male. He was looking at him now, as aware of Sam’s energy as Sam was aware of his.
He yelped a few times, standing like an Egyptian Sphinx.

In no time, Sam was out with his nine-tailed glowing fox…
He’s so still, thought Sam.
How would I name you? he thought, directing the energy to the creature.

He opened his mouth and let his tongue out in such a way, it was like he was grinning and challenging him. Sam laughed and thought to the fox : So I have to play the impression game with you then.
Maybe… I can call you Sam actually
One bark was enough of an answer.
So Sam it is!
Another bark.
I have to introduce you to my friends now… I don’t know why, but I have the feeling Al will love you…