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After Arona said she was hungry, the energy of Malvina disappeared, and once again Arona found herself alone in the cave.

She found this quite irritating. They are really bit rude around here, she muttered.

Arona sat down on the floor of the cave and considered her options. She was tired of the cave and could barely remember what had drawn her here in the first place.

It had been the music of course. She had wanted to find the source of the music. However for the most part she decided her experience had been rather disappointing.

(Arona was never at her best when hungry and this was causing her to quickly forget some of the wonderful experiences with the music and the paintings, and take a rather negative view of events.)

All I have done is wander around dark passageways really.

And now, to top it all off, apparently things are shifting. In the name of heaven what does that mean?

AND if one more person tells me to use my magic I will probably scream or something!

Perish the thought, came a grumpy voice from a particularly dark corner. Your moaning is quite sufficiently bad enough.

And Mandrake the cat emerged from the shadows and made himself comfortable on Arona’s lap. This is great, much more comfortable than the ground he purred.

Oh cute, said Arona, a talking cat.

Cute yourself, responded Mandrake, love your cape by the way.

(Mandrake was prone to sarcasm, considering it a perfectly valid form of humour.)

Arona stroked Mandrake’s soft black coat and tried her hardest to work out what to do. It was all feeling a bit bleak at the moment, the ever changing cave, the half light, the heat and humidity… and especially her hunger.

Mandrake sighed in an impatiently eggsagerated sort of a way.

Heavens to murgatroyd^¹, how can I relax with your incessant thinking? Okay so here’s an easy one for you: what’s the most important thing about magic?

All of a sudden Arona felt a flash of lightness and a sense of new energy moving within her.

of course! She exclaimed delightedly, hugging the less than enthusiastic Mandrake, you have to believe in it!

—

[¹] Note from the editor: Mandrake being a very educate cat from noble ancestors, some of its speech may be difficult to grasp for the average reader, which was certainly not the case for the astute Arona.
Anyway, here is some complement on that ‘Murgatroyd’ .

Fiona wandered slowly along the road to the supermarket in the Village, deep in thought, pondering a recent dream. In her dream she had been talking to someone from the power company. He was very chatty. Eventually he asked her if she had any issues with her power service. In her dream she had started to focus on some electricity issues she was experiencing. Well as a matter of fact I do, she had replied. At which point the man from the power company had abruptly cut the call short.

In her dream she felt a little put out, although resolved to let the power company know later.

The message of the dream felt clear enough, it was her focusing on the difficulties which cut her connection. Yet this presented Fiona with some difficulty, because she dearly loved to analyse even when this did mean focusing on not so pleasant things, though she had been aware for some time how this mental work would deplete her energy.

Actually there was almost a feeling of grieving in her. To let go of this part of her felt like losing something warm and comforting in it’s familiarity, like a well worn and loved article of clothing. It left her wondering a bit about her own identity.

On the way back home, laden with bags of shopping, Fiona saw Jarrod.

Jarrod was lying on a park bench conversing loudly to himself. Well, Fiona mentally corrected herself, to someone I can’t see anyway.

They just don’t understand reality he was saying vehemently they just don’t get it.

Fiona smiled to herself, noticing Jarrod getting a few concerned looks from the well dressed locals. With his bare feet, unkempt hair and long beard he would stand out even if he wasn’t shouting at the top of his voice. She decided to try and sneak past herself, he looked like maybe today he would not recognise her anyway.

FIONA!

She turned back.

Hey Jarrod

Fiona, here’s the thing. Here’s the question okay. Should we swim up-stream or down? Fiona what do you think? Should we head for the Source or the Ocean? Up river or down? We’re on the edge of a new era Fiona. So what will it be, the shallows or the rapids?

Before she needed to come up with an answer Jarrod’s attention was diverted by the shopping bags.

FOOD! Great is that for me Fiona?

By the time Illi had finished reading the newspaper article she felt thoroughly confused. Mechanically she folded the newspaper neatly and then lit a cigarette, resting her elbows on the breakfast table and her chin in her hands. She gazed through the ribbons of blue smoke and the dust drifting through the sunbeams, wondering if she was dreaming, dead, or alive. It was becoming so hard to tell the difference.

Oh well, I’ll think about it later, she thought, and mentally popped it into her clue and riddle box. Her mind wandered back to the story she’d just been reading, and the charming illustrations. The drawing of the young man in the white robe had seemed familiar, and she liked his name too…Sanso, The Wanderer.

As she imagined him, she felt herself lurch ever so slightly sideways, and as she did, the image in her mind of Sanso became suddenly life-like…incredibly so! He was looking at her in astonishment, and taking a step backwards, saying Lordy! not another one appearing out of thin air!

Illi looked around and found herself not in the sunny breakfast room but in a sandy cave, with a little girl in a wooly jumper, a young man in a white robe holding a large rusty key, and a parrot.

Suddenly Illi didn’t care anymore whether she was alive or dead, dreaming or awake. This was beginning to look like fun.

Arona eventually woke from her sleep, still tangled in the images from her dreams. Unable to remember these images she was left feeling as though she were adrift in a boat on the ocean, not caring where the wind and waves may take her.

She had no feeling that morning. It was as though a door had closed in her mind, shutting out the part that could feel. She did not know, nor care, whether she was shutting out joy or sorrow, only that some part of her wanted to be alone.

She remembered the words of the older woman who had sat with her and soothed her to sleep. Or was she already asleep? Was the woman a dream?

Use your magic, she had said.

When she was young, in the Village, magic had come easily to Arona. When did it end?. She screwed up her eyes trying to concentrate. It hadn’t ended all at once. Did it start to end with the cloak her parents had given her?

Arona shook her head briskly and thoughts, like leaves in the wind, lifted and fell back to earth again in new formations.

The candle still burned brightly and her attention was drawn to the heavy wooden door, knowing she could not put it off any longer. In her bag of treasures was a key. It had been given to her at the beginning of her 21 ^st year, as was custom in the Village. It was no surprise to her that it fitted the lock perfectly.

Thank you for having me room, she said as she left.

No, thank YOU, replied the sleepy glukenitch.

The door led directly into another space, larger, brighter. She could sense someone there, but not in solid form. It was a beautiful woman who Arona felt an immediate affinity with, and then a strange sadness came unbidden.

Why sad?

I have no clue answered Arona briskly, quickly shutting the door back on these pesky emotions.

You always know, just feel it

So Arona closed her eyes tightly and allowed herself to feel the answer.

Because you know who you are, and it made me realise I have no idea who I am.

Mmmmmmm, said the woman, maybe you would care to look at my new paintings. Actually they are some of yours.

Intrigued, Arona felt this would be a suitable distraction and she looked with much interest.

The first painting was of a child, in a beautiful meadow of flowers. The child appeared to be completely absorbed, concentrating on a small blue butterfly which had lighted on her finger.
The picture itself moved and changed shape as though it were a portal to another living, breathing world. In the corner of the picture were some other children who seemed to be playing happily together.

Arona, who had felt immediately connected with the young child frowned.

Doesn’t the little girl feel left out?

Go in, said the woman, Go inside the picture and feel the answer.

Oh, and you might want to leave your cloak behind.

So Arona did, and she became the child, but also stayed herself, observing the scene. She felt the child’s happy fascination in her connection with the butterfly. Not just the butterfly. She could feel her connected with the earth, and the gentle breezes and the beautiful flowers … The child was deeply contented, absorbed in the moment, moving happily with the flow of her interest.
I remember feeling like that, thought Arona, before the magic went.
She gently drew the child’s attention to the other children and felt the flow of energy between them. The child was so sure of who she was and where she wanted to be, and Arona could feel the loving acceptance of her playmates.
As the child’s attention went to the others, one of the children looked up and came running over. They sat together and laughed at some funny rabbits which had appeared in the meadow.

Arona returned to the cave.

You look troubled

Well, Arona felt a little perplexed. It’s all very well playing with butterflies and rabbits in a meadow, but it is not terribly practical.

On the contrary, perhaps it is very practical. Would you like to see another of your paintings?

Suspended gracefully between two posts was a beautiful, glistening spider web. Little drops of rain hung like jewels on a chain. An enormous spider waited patiently in the shadows. As Arona watched a small insect happened at that moment to be caught, and the spider began to creep along the delicate lines.

Arona shuddered a little. I might not jump into that one .

The woman laughed, Use your magic Arona. Weave your magic web and let it all come to you.

Oh you are the second person to tell me to use my magic. An old lady came to me in my dreams, I think.

Well I gave her the same advice, years ago.

More damn riddles, Arona thought to herself, and the woman laughed.

One final painting of yours I would like to show you. It is beautiful is it not?

Arona stared mesmerised for a moment, and then leapt right in.

She sat among an audience, captivated by the dancers on the stage ahead. Beautiful music played and it reminded Arona of the music she had heard earlier. The dancers leapt and twirled and Arona was enraptured.

Dance Arona, she heard the woman’s voice

I can’t dance like that, I’m not good enough.

It doesn’t matter

And Arona could not hold back any longer and entered the body of one of the dancers. She did not know the dance so she made up her own steps, and strangely this seemed to fit perfectly with the other dancers.

Back in the cave the woman seemed to be listening to something Arona did not think she could hear.

Things are shifting she said

Oh lordy, are they said Arona, What should I do now?

Feel the answer

Arona felt. I am very hungry, eggceptionally so.

That morning Fiona’s boyfriend asked her to marry him. He even had a date in mind. Over the weekend she had told him how she was feeling. She thought she had spoken plainly enough and he had gone away. She had a bad weekend but yesterday felt she was starting to be more herself again. So it came as a surprise, and she had to explain again.

And then she went to bed, and pulled the covers over her head, and let the sound of the rain falling outside soothe her.

She had a funny dream. She was in a courtroom seated on a little wooden chair, wearing a beautiful dress made of exquisite lace. In her arms she held a baby. She had dreamed of the baby before, but in the previous dream she had felt only repulsion for the funny little thing with its exhausted tiny body, and extra long hair. This time she was holding it protectively.

On one side of the courtroom were a group of people looking very serious and professional. She felt them to be mainly doctors and lawyers and they wore dark suits. On the other there were people chanting and waving placards. Some were meditating, others were dancing and they looked like crazy hippy people.

The two groups of people were fighting over something, shouting backwards and forwards, and it seemed to be something to do with her. She was getting more and more tense as she sat on the little chair with her head down and listened to the two sides, till it seemed she might explode.

Suddenly she looked up and she saw a funny Chinese gentleman, smiling and winking at her. He held out his hand to her and, holding the baby gently with one arm, she took it gratefully and they escaped from the bedlam.

When Fiona eventually decided she could emerge from beneath the covers the rain had stopped.

Bugger this! she said

She put on music loudly and danced around the house doing the housework…..

But the brave front Arona had put on for the dragon crumbled as she looked at the door.

She sat down on the ground and started to cry, and once she started she found she could not stop.

She was so afraid. The courage she felt earlier had deserted her and been replaced by a sadness she did not really even fathom herself.

I am tired of this no man’s land, this endless searching. And I am so afraid that behind the door is just yet another dark tunnel. I hate riddles, people should say what they mean, and yes, I am very tired of this heavy black cape.

And so saying Arona angrily took off the cape and threw it to the ground.

She cried and cried and cried, and the little glukenitch lying unseen in the darkest corner luxuriated in the extra dampness her tears added to the ground.

When she had done crying she found her strength again, enough to keep going with the journey

The life I lead is mere hours or less
I serve all my time by being consumed
I am quickest when thin, slowest when fat
And wind is the bane of the gift that I bring

Dragon, is that you?, Arona looked around, peering into the half light, but she could not see the crafty dragon, who had once again taken the form of a tiny weaszchilla. He had however retained his own voice, for a weaszchilla cannot be heard easily by human ears

Why should you care, do you want to see my stupid dragon face now?

I said silly, not stupid, and perhaps your face is not really so silly for a dragon, however your personality is certainly not that endearing, grumbled Arona

It doesn’t bark
It doesn’t bite
But still won’t let you in the house

Arona thought for a moment, a lock

Well I suggest you turn your attention to it then, because it is the only way out now.

Arona was alarmed, What do you mean?

The dragon laughed and as Arona turned around again in search of him, she discovered to her horror that the tunnel she had just traversed had disappeared, and was now a wall.

What’s the matter? Were you thinking of turning back? Leormn grinned to himself. He was enjoying this, but perhaps it was time to return to his other business and let the girl get on with her adventure.

Oh well, perhaps just time for one more for riddle before I go, the dragon thought, he was having so much fun.

The more that there is
The less that you see
Squint all you like
When surrounded by me

Oh that is too easy Dragon. The answer is darkness said Arona in a quiet voice.

The dragon had to hand it to her, she wasn’t stupid.

By the way, he called as he disappeared down a weaszchilla sized tunnel he had created for himself, aren’t you rather hot with that cape on?

The life I lead is mere hours or less … oh he means the candle said Arona to herself, and pulling her cloak around her, turned to face the door.

The silent humid inky darkness closed in on Arona as she chose her path. She could not see the way but it did not matter. She trusted the darkness and the silence. She knew the way and yet could not have explained that even to herself..

She felt the music before she heard it. She did not know where it came from but the sound grew in intensity until it filled the whole space. She heard voices singing and could not understand the words and yet she felt her spirit soar and fly though her body did not move. The music was achingly beautiful and Arona felt her face wet with tears of happiness that something so beautiful existed.

Arona did not know how long she stood like that listening, but even after it ended she could still hear the music softly in her mind.

As she moved forward on her journey Arona saw a faint glimmer of light up ahead and moved towards it. The source of light was a burning candle, valiantly offering some respite from the darkness, and illuminating a door at the end of the tunnel.

Sanso was used to travelling alone. He’d been exploring this cave on his own for several years now, and it suited him, on the whole. No need to confer, or compromise, or rush to keep up, or slow down to let others catch up. He could follow his own impulses without hindrance. He did meet others on his travels, but only at the cave entrances, or rather, the times and places that the cave entrances revealed. He never felt an urge to settle though at any of these places, always compelled to return to the caves mysterious and ever changing labyrinthine tunnels.

The disembodied voices and coloured wispies were always with him in the tunnels. Sometimes one would be louder than another for awhile, then another would assume prominence. The bleakest coldest times were when he wasn’t noticing them; that’s when he found himself going round and round in circles, lost in the maze.

The electric blue wispy had been around alot lately, comforting him with little explosions of pinprick blue lights, and a golden mustard yellow one. English, not French mustard, he reminded himself, although he didn’t think it mattered and wondered why he’d thought it.

Sanso had been almost crawling for some time in a particuarly cramped and difficult tunnel; bent double for most of the time, his back was aching and he longed to stretch out. The thought of going back, retracing his steps, was unbearable, so he continued, and tried not to be discouraged.
‘Find something to appreciate, Appreciation is the key’ the voice of the blue wispy sounded amused, but in a kindly and endearing sort of way. Harumph, muttered Sanso, easy to say! It would help if there was something to appreciate!

Just then Sanso heard another voice, muttering something over and over again. ‘… dragon egg dragon… egg dog egg … dragon dog egg…’ What the heck was that all about?

Illi woke up and groaned. Her back was aching and she felt like she’d fallen down a hill, or plummeted into a hole. I thought sleep was supposed to be relaxing, she grumbled as she shuffled off to make coffee. Ten pairs of eyes followered her every movement, assessing her mood. Some of the eyes winked at the other eyes, and nodded…yes, let’s remind her, she’s useless at these clues, ok guys, everyone ready…steady…GO!

Illi jolted unpleasantly and painfully as a dreadful cacophany of dog barking erupted around her, and warm squirming bodies tumbled everywhere.

How can I possibly focus on SELF, you stupid creatures, when you keep barking like that! Illi sighed, she knew she was getting it backwards, but her whole world was topsy turvey, nothing was as it seemed anymore. Which comes first, the dragon, or the egg?

dragon or the egg, hhmm, egg before the dragon? or the dragon before the egg….irritated because the dogs barked? or dogs barked because I was irritated? eggs, dragons, eggs, dragons, dogs, eggs dragons eggs…..

Illi sighed, and made another cup of coffee.

And then as if by magic an extraordinary thing happened….

Hells Bells muttered Arona to herself , this had better not be some sort of a test that dragon is putting me through

As she stepped forward into the darkness of the chosen path, she had a sudden sense she was walking off the edge of a cliff.

Arona had been practising quietness for a long time. The journey had been lonely at times and offered her many opportunities to practise her skills. There were so many parts of her wanting to have a say, discuss, analyse her every move, so that she would become paralysed and unable to move at all. In desperation almost she had learned to still the voices and find that part of herself she most believed herself to be. The part which believed in the existence of magic.

Well done, and shall you fly?

Arona hesitated. It was that voice again. She was not sure if this new voice came from her own thoughts, but she felt not.

Great, she thought, perfect time to finally lose it. Stuck in a dark cave with a troublesome dragon.

Shrugging her shoulders she went still inside and moved her body forward.

Leormn (with two little dots above the “o”) felt deeply humbled when he saw the extraordinary bravery of Arona.

It was hard for the proud dragon to consider, but he did wonder if sometimes he went too far with his joking. After all for him the cave was a playground, clay he could mould at will, or at a whim. Perhaps one could even call it a work of art, he thought proudly.

But he did realise that for the girl, who was newer to the ways of magic (although showed the most tremendous potential he grudgingly had to admit), he realised it represented something far deeper, a dual potential, the hope of light, but also the possibility of the deepest darkness.

For a moment he even considered revealing his whereabouts.

She is fine , Malvina answered his thoughts, she loves the challenge. It is what drew her here.

Yann had been having these strange dreams and impressions since he’d been in that cave during his last trip to Scotland. In the cave he had that strange impression of a dragon roaring, but he’d rationalized that with the noise of the falls, it was quite deafening. It’d been raining for so much time that the amount of water streaming through that cave was amazing… the visits had been suspended because they feared floods and they couldn’t really explore the cave then. All he could do then was picking up a pebble for Fiona, a pebble he had still to send her

After that, he’d had the weirdest impression to be observed by dragons… they felt quite big, and event though he tried to tell himself it was some effect of his imagination, he was still uneasy about that.

The imagery of dragons had continued with his discussion with Quintin, who told him he had drawn that very cave… in which there were dragon eggs and their keeper. A strange harper woman. When he’d been shown the painting, Yann had that feeling of déjà vu, and the kid attending the newborn dragon on the upper right of the picture had aroused an intense desire to do that very action.

“The tunnels had been changed again”, he thought first.

That weird thought made him laugh and he couldn’t tell to Quintin why… yet.

And last week there was his friend Anastasia who was coming back from a trip to Budapest where she had seen so many dragons in the hotel, in the museums, and there was that parade, they were calling that the dragon’s parade, and it was music and parties all the Saturday night. She enjoyed that tremendously. She even told him she had the impression of being a dragon when looking in the mirror right after that night.

Fiona could feel herself on the verge of doing something radical. In fact she had decided. She was not sure what exactly she had decided, but definitely a decision had been made. She had noticed how often she had been deleting her posts lately on an online blog she kept.

It was clearly a sign.

Fiona enjoyed deleting. Quintin and Dory were rather odd about her deleting. Quintin especially, who apparently never deleted anything. She wondered if this was reflected in other aspects of his life. Maybe he was a hoarder, barely able to move for all the things surrounding him. Dory tended to be a bit of hoarder, she often confessed to this trait. Nothing wrong with hoarding of course, thought Fiona. It is perfectly fine.

Fiona resisted a sudden impulse to go and delete her whole blog, for now anyway.

She was not quite sure what form her decision would take, but realised she felt distinctly peaceful.

Fiona realised she had run out of catfood as her black cat Ivy leapt up on the desk and began talking and rubbing against her face. Ivy was a very determined cat, and life would be unpleasant till this little issue was resolved. Maybe she should get some eggs too, all morning eggs had been coming to her attention for some reason. She wasn’t hungry right now, but maybe would be later.

Dory was often saying how her animals reflected something that was going on in her life, at the moment it was the need to focus on herself more. Fiona wondered what Ivy reflected. She had never had a cat more persistent in getting it’s own way. Or more talkative. That doesn’t really sound much like me, Fiona reflected, but it did feel like there was something there she wasn’t quite getting.

The other funny thing Fiona noticed was that she kept drawing the music card. She had a box of Angel cards her friend gave her, and had been fiddling with them. Three times the music card had fallen out from the pack. “The angels guide you to immerse yourself in beautiful music”, hmmm she thought to herself, beautiful music … maybe that will drown Ivy out …

Arona peered inside the darkness of the cave and got the fright of her life as a disembodied voice commanded imperiously to know her business. Not being particularly brave, or especially stupid, Arona began to back away.

Stop, commanded the voice, and Leormn the dragon moved slowly out into the light.

Holy Pixiesticks! gasped Arona, and found herself rendered momentarily speechless.

Leormn, secretly always rather flattered at the reaction his presence elicited, smiled rather mysteriously at Arona, “And what brings you here, where you have no business to be?” .

Arona finally found her voice “I heard the music, it is so long since I have heard music and all I wanted was to listen for a while, but it’s okay, I will go now if I am not welcome here”

Leormn pondered this, rather longer than was necessary, but it was a long while since anyone had come to the cave and he enjoyed the distraction. He was in a particularly good mood that day, delighted with little Buckberry and life in general.

“If you can answer this riddle I will allow you to listen” he said at last.
I am a box with no corner or side. I hold a golden treasure inside. What am I?

But Arona had more compelling matters to pursue. The music was calling. She pulled her cloak around tightly around herself, for she knew there was strong magic in these parts, and one could never be quite sure … yet she was learning to trust her inner knowing, and there was a lightness to be felt in the air.

The music came from a cave in the hillside and she moved gently towards the entrance.

As Arona put her map carefully away she suddenly realised she was not alone. An odd looking creature was sitting on a rock a short distance away. Arona’s eyesight was not that strong, and she found it hard to make out clearly what sort of a creature it was, but she was amused to notice how it seemed to be talking and laughing to itself, nodding it’s head and sniffing the air. Perhaps it has been taking some of the hallucinogenic plants which grow so abundantly in this terrain, she thought to herself. The creature was now looking to the sky, as though rain were falling, and the sniffing was becoming more intense. How odd, thought Arona, and so convincing was the creature that she looked upwards herself, yet saw only the brilliant blue sky she knew to be there. Poor little fellow, she thought, it has really lost the plot.