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Becky started to hear voices babbling, through the swirling colours and fog. She groaned as she became aware of her head ache, and raised her hand feebly to her forehead.

Ah, she’s coming round! she mentally translated the foreign babble that was drifting into her consciousness. Becky’s hand slipped down towards her belly, which was hurting almost as much as her head.

What the f…! she whispered in amazement, as she struggled to sit up.

The babble of voices twittered at her to be still, and bony fingers pushed at her shoulders, encouraging her to lie still.

I’m not fat anymore, Becky whispered incredulously, and began to smile.

A well meaning voice was comforting her, telling her not to worry, that the three babies were fine, though tiny, and had been rushed to a special facility in the mountains to be placed in an incubator.

Oh, cool, said Becky vaguely, not really listening. She stroked her smooth flat belly and sighed happily, and drifted off once more into the delightful oblivion of unconsciousness.

It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

Can you help me?.. I know you can.

What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl…
You can call me Ar’Meel.

Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
A smile.
He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

Stop it, STOP IT! Becky shouted, clamping her hands over her ears, It was a futile action, as the voices were inside her head, and not likely to be halted by her pointless automatic reaction.

She lit a cigarette with shaking hands and picked up a magazine in an attempt to calm down. She opened the copy of Crisp at random, her eyes unfocused.

I’ll think about this later, she said to herself, when I’m feeling a bit better. Relaxing her tense hunched shoulders, she focused on the glossy pages. She had opened the magazine to the Essencopes page, and read the Borledim forecast for the month ahead.

That’s it! She said excitedly. I’ll change my alignment! I’ll change it to, um, let me think…..
Becky sighed, muttering to herself, How on earth does one change ones alignment?

You said you were going to ‘think’ about it tomorrow, said the voice.

Bugger off, you. Becky snapped. Good point, though.

She picked up Crisp again, this time noticing that the scopes were written by her old schoolfriend, Luce Mong.

Luce! Well, I never! exclaimed Becky with a smile. Luce Mong! Last I heard she was in Long Pong with Leah Muir. I wonder where she’s living now?

There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

Oh! Who’s there?

A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

So tell us about Russia, Elvira, Fleur asked the rather formidably silent old woman. What was it like?

Elvira raised an eyebrow, and then frowned. Well, I…..quite honestly I don’t remember much about it. She sighed deeply and her shoulders sagged.

Well, did you take any photos? pressed Fleur. Did you bring any souvenirs back?

Oh, I…..yes, I have some photos……

Elvira rummaged in her oversized carpet bag and pulled out a manila envelope, tattered along the edges. She passed it to Fleur.

Leörmn was feeling a bit weird to be so intimately explored by this Georges. He was seeing him, actually another aspect of himself with his simultaneous eye in that other time. He was wondering why Malvina was also choosing to perceive time as the other human beings. Leörmn, and other dragons had a very different way of exploring and being in time and space. They were their focus and it was simultaneous… it was also ever changing and that’s why the narrator is having lots of difficulties to translate that… but if you connect with your inner senses I’m sure you’ll get it right

Well the dragon was seeing simultaneously the Georges in this particular intersection of their aspects in this now that was also connected with so many nows. He could easily follow the particular movement of this Georges and was seeing also the many paths and probabilities he was following at the same time. Leörmn had that particular multi-dimensional focus with which he could easily communicate with his human friends. He wasn’t mentioning all that they were doing in the many intersections of his self for it was unnecessary, but he was aware they weren’t fully aware… or rather that their awareness was directed differently.

This Georges, and this Salome were similar to Malvina. He was fully aware of the vastness of her being and of her deep understanding of his own vastness. They were connected and intersected in numerous ways. This creature of theirs was here too. She was with Malvina. In other intersections she was manifesting a different shape, this one was interesting also. Her energy was subtly different also, there were different energies that were intersecting with other aspects of these Georges and Salome.

The room was reshaped in himself, so it was reshaped in what the humans would call the outside… but it was inside, there was no such thing as outside.

For a few days, this particular intersection of himself was changing also because Malvina was altering this aspect of herself she was calling her thought process. She was disassociating many layers of energies, of patterns and rearranging them. It was a fun reorganization for him also… in a manner of speaking it had already happened, but it was a new exploration and it was radiating in many probabilities. He added a smell of roses in the cave, an impulse. The shades of pink he added in the crystals was not a random choice either

He realized now what was the new energy he’d been feeling, he added some qualities and aspects to this exploration and included a fleck of himself in the Leo. What a funny creature. His aspects intersecting with it were all full of joy and fun. It was a good choice, he thought as a translation of his excitement in this new exploration. He was enjoying tremendously this present of this Salome.

He shape-shifted a little to reorganize his scales on his shoulders so the Leo could easily rest there, and projected himself to Malvina.

Yo looks guilty, our Mavis, said Fred. Whatchoo ‘iding?

Nuffink, Fred. I’m not ‘iding nuffink. Her lip trembled but she bravely squared her shoulders, looked Fred in the eye and said: I’m going on ‘oliday.

‘oliday? Another one? You went to Minehead last year with yer sister, whatchoo want another ‘oliday for?

I want to go to Tikfijikoo.

Fred looked at Mavis as if she’d taken leave of her senses. Tiki fuckin WHO? Don’t be so bloody daft, woman!

About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.

Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.

Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.

Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.

Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.

I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.

I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes

Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.

On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.

Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.

Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.

And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.

I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….

hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.

Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.

Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.

Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.

I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.

Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.

Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.

The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.

She kept rocking, faster now.

She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.

I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.

Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.

Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!

She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.

She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.

She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.

I don’t know, she whispered.

She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.

I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.

Lucille returned with the lemonade.

How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?

Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.

Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.

Dory stretched and yawned, and took in her surroundings. The terrain was dry and desert-like, with strange tall rock formations with sheer sides, and hard dusty ground. A strong dry and hot wind whipped her shawl around her shoulders and face. Momentarily blinded, she turned her back to the wind to disentangle her shawl. She finally surfaced from the flapping tangle of cloth just in time to see the van disappearing in a cloud of dust.

PPFFT! I’m on an expedition all on my own. Dory was momentarily speechless.

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.