..::We touched down in the Hollow Mountains just after dawn...Here, well north of Caerdroia, it was already autumn, and I looked in wonder at the spectacular fall tapestry that lay unrolled at my feet; red, yellow, gold, the shine-purple of sumacs, brown oak, with the bone-white of trees already bare veining themselves like ghost rivers out of the flaming colored map of the forest wall.
...A subtle vibration and before I could cry out to Arthur we were taken up and set down again a few blank moments later before the great silver gates I well remembered.
...The gates swung open soundlessly and I was not a whit surprised to see Gwyn son of Nudd, prince of the Sidhe...
'There is indeed much to be done, for now all times run short until the end.' He gestured us to follow him and we passed the gates into the Dun.
'We are going to Merlynn Llwyd,' I said suddenly, and certainly.
...The curtain of spark-shotten darkness seemed to turn to silver brightness before us; and Merlyn Llwyd was there.
...I paused again for my voice began to tremble, and however understandable that may have been, for Taliesin, not so for a bard and Pen-bardd.
'So I ask you now, how came the Lady Cathelin to know of us--she who came to Keltia long before most of us were even born, much less named or crowned or chaired as bard or wizard? How came Earth to have tales of us here in Keltia centuries before we ever even were?...'
The living, speaking Merlynn faded briefly, and the sleeping Merlynn shone strongly through, as a pulse-star will do far in its corner of space; then they were once more as they had been.
'Those tales your mother loved so on Earth and brought with her to Keltia,' said Merlynn, and I all but died at the gentleness in his voice, 'were not tales of things as they had been but things as they would be.'::..
The Hedge of Mist - V. III of the Tales of Arthur
Patricia Kennealy Morrison
* * * *
A Twilight World...
Emlyn's impression; as she strode, or glided, rather, hand-in-hand, with the Sidhe Lord ~ an impression of a hall, yet instead of pillars a-sides, there reached tall silver birches soaring high above, creating archways of autumn leaves beneath the indigo sky where stars could be seen shining betwixt and between...her feet seemed to sink into a soft carpet of mossy green and the air stirred with slight breezes bearing the scent of hay newly mown and fresh flowers, and which sounded an almost sub-audible tinkling of small silver bells, with an occasional low chime in counterpoint. She also discerned the rush of a river somewhere beyond the hall of trees...and a soft amber glow like candlelight shone amidst the tree tops and sides.
Fire-fly-like points of light flitted occasionally in the canopy of leaves above them, wafting a sparkling trail behind...
No one else was about, no tables laden with fairy fare and drink, no mad dances or capers here in Gwydion's hall...all seemed peaceful however, and not empty. It was the aliveness of nature, restful after sunset.
Gwydion smiled down at her. 'I wished to make your welcome here a pleasant and peaceful one.' He glanced about, '...Find you Caer Gwydion to your liking then, my Lady?'
Emlyn was altogether Enchanted. 'It is perfect, my Lord...' Indeed, if Em could have created the best and most comfortable environment she could dream, it would in no whit differ. 'It's...everything I could possibly desire.' She sighed, closing her eyes; 'The scents upon the wind are like ambrosia to me! The soft bells, the water-flow, soothe every overwrought nerve,' she opened her eyes and gazed at the sky of star and leaf, '...and my favorite color in all the worlds...is this very deep cobalt blue...'
She stopped suddenly, and took both his hands in hers. He turned to her and smiled, gazing dreamily upon her, as she looked close into his grey-green eyes like forest pools.
'It feels like I have, at long last, come home.'
. . . .
..::Nephthys (Nebt-het, Nebhet)
Symbols: kite, crow, bones and skulls
Cult Center: Heliopolis
Nephthys was the daughter of Geb and Nut and the sister of Osiris, Isis and Seth. She was also the wife of Seth. The name "Nebt-het" means the "lady of the house." By "house" it is understood to be the portion of the sky where Horus lived. Nephthys was portrayed as a woman wearing on her head the symbol of her name, or the symbol on top of a pair of horns.
Her son was Anubis, whose father was Osiris. Some myths say that Nephthys intoxicated Osiris and seduced him, thus creating Anubis. Yet others say that she disguised herself as her sister Isis, Osiris' wife, and became pregnant by him. It was Nephthys' affair with Osiris which enraged Seth and was one of his motives for murdering Osiris.
Since the earliest of times, Nephthys was considered to be Seth's counterpart and wife. She was always associated with him.
"Ascend and descend; descend with Nephthys, sink into darkness with the Night-bark. Ascend and descend; ascend with Isis, rise with the Day-bark."
Pyramid Text Utterance 222 line 210::..
* * * *
Jack meanwhile, was feeling not at all comfortable; he felt, in fact, angry as hell and quite desperate. Nothing for it, he told himself; and leapt over the side.
'Maaaan Overboard!' yelled Flubber, who grabbed a rope and tying a loop, flung it far and netted Jack neatly about the neck. 'Don't struggle thar, lil' doggie! Don't want you to choke yourself!' He then began to haul Jack back, who was writhing, trying to free himself of the wet noose tight about his neck.
He didn't. Morgana meanwhile had shouldered a rifle and had him in her cross-hairs. A second later, Jack felt a sting in his shoulder and saw the dart poking from it. That was the last he saw...
. . . .
Trussed up like a turkey, Jack was now sitting lashed to the mast, chin to his chest, eyes shut. Morgana draped herself in a lounge chair while 'El Juan' Flubber chomped upon a pipe and studied maps, a skipper's cap crowning his red and peeling pate.
A low moan was heard from Jack's direction...
'Ah, sleeping beauty awakes!' Flubber turned, regarding their prize, grinning around his pipe stem. 'Alright, Jack!?' he called.
Jack blinked blearily and squinted about him at the unchanging scenery: blue above, blue below. Damn. Still here. His head swam. Too bad the rest of him hadn't. 'No,' he croaked. 'Thirsty...'
Sighing, Flubber heaved himself from his captain's chair and brought a water bottle to Jack. 'Open wide!' he raised his brows and popped his frog-eyes at Jack, who drank the cool liquid in grateful, choking swallows. 'Why desert the ship, matey? We're just getting started.'
Jack tried to focus. 'Where are we?'
'Guess.' Flubber grinned still, but his eyes were menacing.
Jack had some sailor's experience, but not nearly as much as his dad or uncle. He studied the sky and at last hazarded an answer. 'I'd say...somewhere in the Caribbean.'
'Bingo! Me boyo!' Flubber turned to Morgana. 'Jack has deigned to join us once more, my dear! Do bring us the maps and perhaps some comestibles and a wee sommat to slake our thrist, eh?'
Morgana took no notice. She flipped her sunglasses on but otherwise made no move.
'Women. Bad luck aboard ship...or anywhere, for some, eh, Jack? The Lady of the House, appears to be indisposed...' Flubber said in his best W.C. Fields as he shuffled off below and later reappeared carrying a picnic hamper. Jack had to admit he was ravenous...how long had it been since he'd eaten? He'd no idea the date.
Sighing once more, Flubber hand-cuffed Jack to the mast with one hand and untied the ropes about his upper body, leaving his legs tied tight.
'You can fend for yourself now, here--' he mumbled as he set out sandwiches and opened cans of beer.
Jack fell upon the food like a hungry bear whilst Flubber fetched the maps and his chair, and sat beside Jack, taking a sandwich and munching casually.
'Now. We should be...nearly on track...if this map is anywhere near correct...?' his voice took on an edge as he narrowed his gaze at Morgana, who slowly looked up and then oozed from her chair and came over to the men, draping herself about Flubber and
regarding the map from over his shoulder.
Jack took a guzzle of beer and finally felt his head clear somewhat once he had some food in him. 'Why are we in the Bahamas, in the middle of hurricane season? This is the worst part of the Caribbean for storms. We should head south.'
'Who died and made you skipper?' Flubber squinted at Jack, his mouth a grimace around his pipe. He looked about them. 'All seems a bucolic blue and not a wrinkle on the sea, eh, m'dear?'
'Lucky sea...' Morgana purred, and pulling her lounge near, took a cluster of grapes and began to feed.
Idiots, thought Jack. Gods I have to get away from these fogheads. 'You DO have a radio, at least?'
Flubber just looked at him, saying nothing. He took up a remote control and punched a button. NOAA crackled to life in the pilot house. Flubber turned the disembodied voice down to a murmur, and took up his map. After munching down another sandwich and starting on a chicken leg, Flubber said something of interest at last:
'We're taking the route taken by Drake. And I don't mean Sir Francis.' He looked up at Jack, all pretense gone from his features.
Jack stiffened. He knew exactly what the ghastly little gremlin meant: 'Are you...talking about my father?'
Flubber looked at Morgana. 'Every inch a genius! Of course, my dear, you'd know better than I...' Morgana smiled like a contented cat. Jack felt his insides clench. He was headed to his doom in a ship of fools.
'What in hell are you playing at!?' he seethed.
'Easy, lad! Don't get your jammies in a twist!' Flubber knocked his pipe ash out against the metal mast making Jack's ears ring. Putting the map aside, he leaned forward, Jack in his sites.
'Your father had the right of things, all along, you know! A brilliant man!' John shook his fat head.
'If it hadn't been for that damn Daryl!' he flicked a glance at Morgana, who shrugged. 'It was Daryl's bloody interference that kept them all from their goal--tried to turn them around and head for shore...no wonder they wound up where they did.'
He pinned Jack with a hard stare. 'Don't you get any ideas about doing the same now!'
Jack was confused. 'Wait! What do you mean, 'Daryl's interference'...I thought sailing out here had been Daryl's idea.'
Morgana began to giggle and Flubber grinned, chuckling. 'Meester Schmatt Guy!' He laughed, a hidious hyena-like noise. '"Which way I fly is hell; Myself am hell!"--that's Milton, Jack.' He pointed his pipe at Jack and growled...'Another schmatt guy, like you...' He pocketed the pipe.
'Oh, no...bloody Daryl flew out here and managed to catch Drake and Sarah before they accomplished the Great Work! We could have all been Home by now!
Back to the Beginning, Jack! Back, to Atlantis!'
Great Goddess, these people were banjaxed beyond belief, thought Jack. He was starting to see a crazy zig-zag pattern to it all now... 'You mean...you're actually trying to find...the Bermuda Triangle? You believe the legends of a lost Atlantean crystal that causes all the fluctuating energies here?'
Flubber just shook his head, smiling. 'Such genius!'
He crowed. 'Utterly wasted. Well, perhaps not utterly...eh, m'dear?' he winked at Morgana who had turned their way, smiling still, and rubbing her stomach.
Jack was beginning to feel a little sick. 'I, I'm gonna...' He thrashed onto his side as Flubber flung a bucket his way, just in time.
'Yeah, our girl sometimes has that effect upon a guy...' John screwed his face up at the smell, as he dumped the spew and 'fed the fish'.
'Well, if it's any consolation, Jack, she'll be puking her own guts out soon enough. A couple more months, perhaps, eh, m'dear?' Flubber's grin was like the smile of Atilla surveying his carnage. 'Wonder if it'll have a jackal's head...?' He wasn't grinning now. 'Tut, tut, Jack! How could you consider escaping our cozy little circle here; couldn't just leave the little larva, now you might be called upon to act: "in loco parentis", as they say. Ah, the ties that bind, and gag, eh, b'hoy?'
Jack choked as he tried to drink some water, then frowned at Morgana, who patted her belly and licked her lips at him. This did not console Jack in the least. As sick as he had been, it was nothing to what he was feeling now...
. . . .
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