Miss Emlyn Page:
Adventures and Misadventures In Time and Space
Chapter 1: "A Library is Thought In Cold Storage"
'Sonnet - to Science
'Science! true daughter of Old Time, thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes,
Why preyest thou thus on the poet's heart,
Vulture whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jeweled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?'
--Edgar Allen Poe
. . . .
Winter. Crowley Place. Twilight.
The sun had set. Jack and Emlyn still sat upon the back
porch veranda, oblivious to the encroaching darkness.
Aleister opened the screen door, poking his head out,
'Dinner soon!' he informed them. 'If you're
interested...'
They were. Entering the kitchen, they found Al and Daryl
had been busy.
'Hearty country fare, served smorgasbord!' Daryl
announced, as he set a pile of utensils, bowls and dishes
upon the counter for all to serve themselves. He then
joined Aleister at the big oaken kitchen table, tossing
the patiently waiting Dylan a bone in his bowl; after
first having served Alice dainty bits to her special
dinner area: the screened-in back room and up where herbs
hung drying, conveniently far from Dylan's curious nose.
Emlyn spooned up a thick stew, cutting brown bread and
cheese for herself and Jack, and took her seat across the
table from the men, Jack following.
'Missed your calling, Daryl; you'd make a right chef,
so you would,' Aleister declaimed, 'You, and Yeats,
both!'
Daryl looked pensive as he chewed thoughtfully. 'I
sometimes think perhaps I should have done...' He stirred
his stew, musing; '...throughout the ages, in every time
period; people, everywhere, will gather at table and
break bread together...'
'...Except, perhaps, on a starship...' Jack spoke into
his stew, not looking up. He paused a moment, still
staring into his bowl, and broke off a bit of bread,
studying it.
'"O brave new world that has such people in't."'
The others shot glances around the table to one another,
unsure still of Jack's acclimation to 'home'. Daryl had
time to inform Emlyn only of the basics involved with
Jack's rescue and recuperation period.
Sighing, however, Daryl merely said, 'True enough.
Still, I find myself seeking the homeliest comforts
possible, when I am far from home...'
Emlyn wasn't sure where all this was going...
'I must say I'm in favor of the candlelight!' she
nodded at the tall silver sticks holding tapers before
them. 'It does add a more comforting, homey touch than
the brightness of electrical lighting.'
Jack paused, and looked at her, as if seeing something
new. 'Yes...I believe you have said so before, Em.
Electric light you find rather bright, yes?'
'Well, perhaps I'm still becoming used to it,' she broke
off bread bits, alternating bites with the cheese.
'But, yes...and, actually, I have always had problems
with too-bright rooms, or even glaring daylight at times.
I once purchased a pair of those wire-rimmed sunshades,
but they are so rarely worn by others, folk assumed I was
totally blind...' She sighed.
Jack flicked a glance at Daryl then, but continued slowly
eating. 'I find myself in rather the same predicament,
Em. In fact, I have been unable to bear the light of day
without such accoutrements. At least, if ever I need to
go out here in public...hearing, too, is rather
problematic, now...all sounds seem grossly amplified...'
'Ah! Truly, Jack?' Em regarded him intently. 'I, too,
have had such problems. For some while, I must admit, I
was wishing I could hear a little less well! Especially
now, with all the noise and clatter of our new 'machine
age', all about!' She dabbed her lips with her
serviette.
'But then, I recall the transcendence of music, and I'd
never wish to hear any less than I do. I used to think
that folk who never responded to music, were but oafs,
lacking sensitivity. I now realize, that many of them,
simply do not hear very well!'
'"A musician, if he's a messenger, is like a child who
hasn't been handled too many times by man, hasn't had too
many fingerprints across his brain,"' supplied Daryl.
Jack smiled at Daryl then, '--Jimi Hendrix!' He looked at
Em. '...A 20th century iconoclastic musician. And a true
messenger...' He paused. 'Too bad mankind did not hear or
heed the message.' He pushed back his empty bowl, and
began to run his finger idly through the candleflame.
'The problem with electricity is the 12 volt/60 cycles
per second subdivision.' Jack paused again, and Em was
rather taken aback to see his eyelids flutter as his eyes
rolled in his head showing only whites, then fluttered
once more. When he opened them, she noticed, where 'Jack'
had been, it seemed now something else occupied his
'space'--his pupils were enlarged and seemed to stare off
into nothingness...
'12.60 represents a hemorrhage of earth's natural 13.20
electromagnetic field. 12.60 robs the fractal resonances
from 13.20 field and turns them by voltage into an
abstract electrical current channeled by wires...this 2nd
dimensional force activates electricity to the detriment
of the planet's electromagnetic field.'
Aleister and Daryl glanced at one another, wondering if
Jack was going 'off' again. Strangely, casually, Emlyn
spoke up then:
'I'm...not too sure about those units of measure you
mention with regards to electricity, Jack, however...they
are reminiscent of the modern, Western calendar system,
versus the more natural 13 moon calendar of the Kelts,
the Mayans, Islamists and others...' she nodded,
knowingly, '...certainly any matriarchal system would
know 'better' than to subscribe to such an artificial 12
-month rendering to cycles of the year!'
A slow smile spread across Jack's face, and he bent his
head, looking round to Emlyn; when his eyes refocused, he
seemed to be seeing what was before him once more.
'Indeed, Em. Wise are the ways of women...'
Aleister and Daryl seemed to relax, somewhat. Both hadn't
known quite how to handle the changes in Jack. He
had...come down to earth much in such time as they could
carve out to spend with him, but, he appeared to be
learning a new way of being; seeing, hearing, touching,
all sensory, and extra, perceptions. He explained at
first that his sight seemed pixelated, and not in the
happy-sauce sense, either. His vision had not adjusted
even yet.
But, he seemed to be finding somewhat of a kindred
spirit in Emlyn's company. Perhaps, with Time...she could
help usher him back into the world once more.
'Nikola Tesla...' Daryl began, '...had similar challenges
with this mundane plane. Recall he always wore gloves in
public, hearing accented beyond normal range, etc. He,
seemed to have some Otherworldly associations as well.'
He noted Jack and Emlyn eyeing one another with new
eyes, and sighed. These young Star Travelers...could help
one another here, provided they could both keep their
feet on the ground...
Grounding! That's it. That's what they both needed for
awhile!
Daryl shook his fork at them then; 'You're grounded! Both
of you!' Em and Jack's eyebrows both reached new heights.
Em seemed quite taken aback by Daryl's admonishment,
whilst Jack merely smiled.
'No gallivanting.' Daryl eyed them closely; first one,
then the other. 'For...at least a month.' He managed a
small sideways grin. 'Give this old man a break!' He
stabbed a hunk of cheese with his fork.
'Grounded. BOTH of you!'
. . . .
..::A student asked Suzuki Roshi if he kept an eye on his
students to see if they were following the precepts, the
Buddhist guidelines of conduct.
'I don't pay any attention to whether you're following
the precepts or not,' he answered, 'I just notice how you
are with one another.'::..
. . . .
The next day found Jack and Daryl working in the lab, and
Aleister suggested Emlyn accompany him to town.
'We can have a little chat together,' he added,
casually. But Em divined he had something on his mind.
'It truly seems an age since I've been in Pankhurst...'
Em confided to Al as they sat upon the drivers seat of
the trap en route to town. Not long enough, thought Em,
keeping that to herself.
'Oh, it's not so bad, if there's something here worth
one's while!' Al winked.
Em smiled back. 'You and Diana are getting on well?'
Al answered with a huge grin, 'Well enough, indeed!' He
guided Boreson around a rock obstacle. 'I must say Jack
seems better for your company, Em. You understand one
another. Not that others can't, but, he's more...
forthcoming with you.'
'Oh, my...I've only been here but hours, really. Afraid I
retired rather early last night.' Em was pensive. 'But,
yes, I have noticed changes in Jack...'
'Don't let that frighten you, Em. Much of it, he cannot
help, at least, not at the moment. Time! That's the great
healer!' Al nodded, then paused awhile. 'You...have
probably noted these 'spells' of his, yes?'
Em had. 'He seems to be...gripped, by something, at
times...'
Al sighed. 'Yes...the eyes showing white, the eyelid
flutters; these are signs of head trauma. May go away
with time. Or not. But, as to being 'gripped' as you
say...I don't believe it is a neurological reaction to
his injuries.'
'Aleister...' Em decided she may as well investigate
uncharted waters with her old friend, '...are you at all
familiar with trance-mediumship?' Em enquired.
'Channeling', we call it in my time,' Al nodded.
'Yes...I don't discount that could be what's 'gripping'
Jack at times.' He frowned, 'Thus far, the information
coming through appears to be rather technical.
Although...it also seems to relate to something on a
metaphysical plane as well. I must confess, it's nothing
I, myself am familiar with.'
Emlyn thought she could perceive patterns in the odd
locutions Jack would utter; catch phrases that jogged
certain pertinent idioms that Em could relate to...a
great deal of intuition was necessary, certainly.
'Well, I'm always happy to be of any help!' She shook
her head, 'He looks... well enough, but from what I've
heard of his misadventure, it was a near thing. He
obviously has suffered trauma not only physical.' It
tugged at Em's heart to see the once-ebullient Jack
so...transformed.
Aleister regarded her, 'Any time you can spend with us,
you and Daryl both, will do wonders for Jack's mental,
emotional and physical well being! Jack appreciates it,
too...even if he, may have trouble articulating his
feelings right now.'
Al knew that Jack probably was having a hard time
relearning how to see, hear, move about in 3D Real Time.
Any semblance of 'normalcy' at this stage was probably
accidental.
But he wasn't about to admit any of this to Emlyn. Yet.
'Oh, Al...!' Em put her arm through her friend's. 'You
know I'd do anything for Jack. Or you! We Westerners have
learned to stick together, from way back when...or at
least we had at one time.' She glanced about her at the
houses cropping up along the roadside, denoting their
closing in on Pankhurst proper.
'However, especially in cities, it seems...people are
more...insular now. They don't bother to know their
neighbors... They seem to bond together only over what
they don't like rather than what they do!' Em shook her
head. 'Lately, Aleister, I've considered leaving the
City...'
'Tried that once, Em,' Al grinned.
'I know...but,' Emlyn looked down, 'I don't mean, to
move back to Crowley Place. No,' she looked up and out
across the foothills east, 'I've been thinking of heading
out of the cities, and towns. Ideally, I'd like to find
somewhere close to my friends Jeanne and Shannon. But,
barring that, there's always...Guano Acres!' She smiled
Als' way. 'That is, of course, if Jethro and Homer would
agree...'
Hoo boy! Al thought; there's a heaping helping of hornets
in the honey! He couldn't imagine what Jack would think
of Emlyn living with her old boyfriend, Jethro! Although
they remained 'just friends' and had been for some years
now...
'I, ah, see...' Al tried to keep an even tone. 'So,
would that 'work' you think? Living in the same house as
Jethro and Homer as well?'
'Oh, no, Aleister!' Em smiled, 'I wouldn't live in their
house! I would build my own!'
Al pulled up Boreson to avoid a speeding messenger boy on
a bicycle, as they were now entering the busy town
center. Boreson merely snorted, then continued on his
way; anything less than a bear now, the Halflinger took
with equine equability.
'Ah, well! Your own place Em? That's a lot to
consider,' Aleister advised.
'It is. But, I hope to 'head for the hills' nearer to my
celtic sisters...we'll see. It's just an idea I've been
batting about...'
Em didn't add that ever since returning from the
Otherworld, she found she could barely tolerate city life
anymore. She felt hardly able to breathe or move, and the
noise! Motorcars were becoming more popular in the cities
now and the associated din and stink was truly beyond her
limits.
Al and Em had worked out their itinerary for the trip to
town and, leaving the trap at the livery, they planned to
meet there at the appointed time, and so now took leave
of one another.
Emlyn did some banking and shopping and had just posted
letters to Shannon and Jeanne, respectively, when,
exiting the post office, she noted a group of young Asian
children singing together as they paraded in a line
behind their roshi, two by two; carrying colorful paper
lanterns and carp and crane banners.
Ah, couldn't be Chinese New Year so soon... Then she
thought she recognized the roshi of the local Buddhist
temple at the head of the line...perhaps these are
Japanese children, as well, then?
The little kids in their blue and white hapi coats
crowded about him and sang: 'Happy Birthday Dear Roshi!',
and converged upon the smiling man with a great group-hug
amid much laughter; Em smiled in turn, thinking it
obvious to all how much they loved their roshi!
'Emmeline! Why, fancy seeing you here!'
Suddenly a voice from the past intruded upon Em's glad
mood, which changed as she recognized an
old...acquaintance she'd known through association with
the library somehow...she could not recall the woman's
name, and in fact, had barely registered that: 'Emmeline'
was in fact, she, herself. Or had been, once.
The woman pulled herself up alongside Em and frowned at
the group of children, now guided back into their line
and were off in the direction of the temple, singing
their little hearts out once more... Em sighed, thinking
that she could not imagine children being so free and
affectionate with any Christian priest or pastor; and
certainly no wonder, when the poor mites were rained down
upon with threats of hellfire and brimstone from the
pulpit on high!
The woman hardly noticed Em wasn't listening as she
nattered on all about herself, not stopping for breath,
and then mercifully paused, all too briefly, then nodded
toward the retreating children and remarked critically:
'Dreadfully out of tune!'
Emlyn then regarded the woman at last and made some
excuse to extricate herself from her presence, and
as she fled the scene, she thought to herself, yes, that
describes myself here in Pankhurst: Out Of Tune, out of
time, with this small-minded, biased, prejudiced, gossipy place!
She couldn't wait to move!
. . . .
'The Daily Telegraph (Toronto, Ontario), Wednesday,
August 23, 1871, page 1:
"Headlines: "A REMARKABLE SIGHT-- Two hundred skeletons
of ANAKIN [sic] in Cayuga Township; A singular discovery
by a Torontonian and others -- A vast Golgotha opened to
view -- Some remains of the 'Giants that were in those
days.' From our own correspondents."
"On Wednesday last, Rev. Nathaniel Wardell, Messers.
Orin Wardell (of Toronto), and Daniel Fredenburg,
were digging on the farm of the latter gentleman, which
is on the banks of the Grand River, in the township of
Cayuga. When they got to five or six feet below the
surface, a strange sight met them. Piled in layers, one
upon top of the other, some two hundred skeletons of
human beings nearly perfect -- around the neck of each
one being a string of beads.
"These skeletons are those of men of gigantic stature,
some of them measuring nine feet, very few of them being
less than seven feet. Some of the thigh bones were found
to be at least a foot longer than those at present known,
and one of the skulls being examined completely covered
the head of an ordinary person. These skeletons are
supposed to belong to those of a race of people anterior
to the Indians.
"The skulls and bones of the giants are fast
disappearing, being taken away by curiosity hunters..."
. . . .
"San Diego Union. According to the clipping,
explorers had unearthed, near the Arizona-Nevada-
California line, the mummified remains of strangely
costumed giants which the discoverers dated to around
80,000 years ago.
"The Union reported that a Howard E. Hill of Los Angeles
was recounting the work of Dr. F. Bruce Russell, a
retired Cincinnati physician who had originally located
the first of several tunnels near Death Valley in 1931,
but had not been able to return to the area until 1947.
Russell had recovered the remains of several men of 8 to
9 feet in height.
"These giants," said Hill, "are clothed in garments
consisting of a medium length jacket and trouser
extending slightly below the knees. The texture of the
material is said to resemble gray dyed sheepskin, but
obviously it was taken from an animal unknown today."
"Hill also said, according to the Union, that in another
cavern was found the ritual hall of the ancient people,
together with devices and markings similar to those now
used by the Masonic order.
"He said the explorers believe that what they found was
the burial place of the tribe's hierarchy. Hieroglyphics,
he added, bear a resemblance to what is known of those
from the lost continent of Atlantis."
. . . .
"CALIFORNIA
"Lovelock, Nevada, is about eighty miles northeast of
Reno. in 1911, in a cave near Lovelock, Nevada guano
miners found mummies, bones, and artifacts belonging to
a very tall people - with red hair.
"The Paiutes had legends about the "Si-Te-Cah."
According to them the redheads were a warlike people, and
a number of the Indian tribes joined together in a long
war against them. Eventually, the Paiutes and their
allies forced the Si-Te-Cah back to their home acres,
near Mount Shasta in California.
"Archeologists seemed to take a negative approach to this
'history changing' discovery. . According to reports, two
archeologists were sent to the scene to investigate this
remarkable discovery. One was from the University of
California, and the other from New York. Rather than
unearthing facts, they seemed more interested in burying
them - literally; we are told the New Yorker ordered a
mummy reburied on at least one occasion. Nor was anything
published about the anomalies until 1929, seventeen years
after their visit.
"The Paiutes and the long-legged redheads did not get
along well. The local Indians tell stories of how their
tribe exterminated those that had reddish hair. All of
this could be dismissed as another tall tale, but the
case for the Si-Te-Cah does not rest on one man's search,
or on remains found in one guano-filled cave. In 1931,
mummies were discovered in the Humboldt Lake bed. Eight
years later, a mystery skeleton was unearthed on a ranch
in the region. In each case, the skeletons or mummies
were exceptionally tall and appeared to be connected with
the strange lost race of redheads.
"According to the Indians, the Si-Te-Cah built a
pyramidal stone structure in New York Canyon, some miles
away in Churchill County. Unfortunately, the area is
riven with earthquakes and the rocky ruins have largely
tumbled over the years.
"Not much has survived from the Si-Te-Cah. When the
archeological establishment refused to take their
existence seriously, a number of small, private museums
arose to fill the gap. A fire in one of these destroyed
an irreplaceable collection of bones, mummified remains,
feathered artifacts, and shells carved with mysterious
symbols. Today there is a museum in Lovelock with a
display describing the cave finds, but it ignores
allegations that the Si-Te-Cah were anything other than
Indians. The Nevada State Historical Society has some
artifacts from the cave, but again, there is not even a
hint of controversy."
* * * *
Back at Crowley Place, (and none too soon, thought Emlyn,
relieved to be away from the pusillanimous, putrescent,
pestilential purlieu of Pankhurst), Emlyn took to
storming about the kitchen, slamming pans and pots around
and sharpening knives with a gay ferocity...
Aleister wisely retreated elsewhere, mumbling something
about 'checking on Jack and Daryl in the lab,' and
leaving Em to stew whilst making stew...
The doctor had been growlingly informed of Emlyn's
less-than-lovely visit to town and he now figured that
some therapeutic whacking and stabbing with sharp knives
could release some of Em's 'tension'. Or so he hoped...
Apparently, it had worked a treat. Some hours later, the
men cautiously emerged from the lab downstairs around
sundown and poked tentative noses into a houseful of
wonderful aromas wafting from the kitchen...
Finding Emlyn sitting in the parlor reading, with Alice
sleeping on her lap and Dylan curled up on, (rather than
at), her feet, was an auspicious surprise to all, then.
'Well!' Aleister braved, 'I haven't ever seen those two
so close together and seemingly relaxed!' Al bent to
scratch Dylan's head and was rewarded with a lazy tail-
thump. Alice merely stretched and rolled over onto her
back, Em complied with a chin-rub to the proferred
Alice-expanse.
'Oh, I think they're learning to get used to one
another. Goodness, they have both grown so!'
'Dylan seems very fond of you, Em,' Jack noted, smiling.
'He had an odd liking for Yeats, as well...'
'Well, anyone hungry?' Em placed Alice upon her blanket
and smoothed calico fluff from her skirt. 'Potatoes au
gratin, apple and walnut stuffed winter squash, kale with
mushrooms...corn bread with rosemary and onion...'
Emlyn led the way into the kitchen, the men happy
enough to trail behind her, as Dylan frisked about their
heels.
Evening found the company gathered companionably about
the fireplace in the parlor. Jack, Daryl and Emlyn had
elected for kava tea over the after-dinner brandy
preferred by the good doctor.
'A marvelous meal, Emlyn,' Aleister lighted a lucifer
to his cigarillo as he blew smoke up the chimney, 'I
hardly noticed the absence of meat!'
Em smiled. 'Yes. I've decided to take a page from
Shannon's book and go vegetarian. A new year's
resolution. Or one of them...'
'That time already...?' Jack mused, his brows together as
if trying to calculate Time bordered on impossibility. He
apparently gave up, however, as he sat on the other end
of the sofa and Dylan sidled up beside him, leaned on his
legs and with a moaning sort of sigh, slid down into a
heap at Jack's heels.
Jack smiled at the pup. 'Yes, it's hard to keep up with
it all, isn't it boy?' he fondled Dylan's floppy, petal-
soft uncropped ears. 'He has grown since I've been
away...' he noted somewhat sadly.
'It has been...quite awhile indeed,' Daryl supplied,
looking pensive. '...Nearly two months.' Daryl was lost
in his own thoughts, realizing he had also lost nearly as
much time since his abduction aboard ship to be with
Jack.
He roused himself from reverie to remark, 'Not a bad
idea, that. Going vegetarian... I have been for most of
my life; had to adjust to different places, people and
customs...but I always go back to it, whenever I am able.
I feel healthier, more energetic then. More mind-energy, I
feel. More aware. After awhile, meat seems to slow one
down, rather...' He paused, sipping tea.
'You say Shannon is vegetarian, Em?'
'So she is,' Emlyn smiled. 'I posted letters to Jeanne
and Shannon both today.' She frowned momentarily,
'Another resolution of mine, is to spend more time with
them, away in the country...'
Daryl didn't register the significance of this statement,
at first. 'Shannon...I have found, is a rather singular
young lady... She, Jeanne and Allyn paid me a visit
shortly after All Hallow's Eve.'
Emlyn regarded Daryl then, realizing that they really
hadn't had time to talk at all, since everyone's return.
'Truly? What brought them all the way to the City, then?'
'Jack's disappearance.' (Daryl didn't say, 'and yours';
thinking it best not to bring it up before Jack; not if
Emlyn hadn't mentioned haring off to faeryland with the
Sidhe Lord, as yet...)
'Jethro had notified Allyn that Jack had gone missing
from the party. And...Shannon, had had a presentiment, a
roi-fhiosrachadh. She, saw Jack's predicament, and
surroundings and...' Daryl's hand went to his forehead,
rubbing the worry lines there, '...I could figure the
rest...'
Jack sat forward, looking interested. 'I didn't know all
this...!' He glanced to Em, 'I may just go vegetarian as
well!' He looked confused then, 'I thought that you said,
Yeats had contacted you...'
'He did, but afterwards. Em's friends had just left, when
I suddenly found myself on Axelis' craft, and in the
midst of your rescue!'
Daryl sighed and sat back, shaking his head, 'I hardly
knew what was going on! But, when we hauled you off the
boat and out of the maelstrom...' Daryl swallowed,
'...well, that's all that mattered...'
But Em noticed he was blinking hard and trying not to
show how discomfited he was recalling that gruesome
scenario.
He poured more tea for all then and drank. 'It was sheer
good fortune that Axelis had that old ship! Nothing else
in the air, or sea, could cope with the energies pouring
off that whirlpool! Or what lay beneath it! Yeats
explained the old-style tractor-beam they used to home in
on you, Jack. He had to physically grab hold of you and
cut your line to pull you into it, rather than just
transport you via regenerator. Hell of a thing...'
Jack's gaze had turned inward as though re-living that
hell, indeed. 'I owe Axelis much. And Yeats.' He looked
at his uncle then, 'And, you, Daryl...' He shook his
head, '...it's amazing I survived.'
He stood then and poured more tea.
'I recalled only recently something Flubber had blabbed
to me on the yacht...he said that my father had taken my
mother on your boat, and they were searching for these
same Atlantean crystals...'
He set down his tea mug. 'And, then, you had shown up,
and tried to turn them around, but it was too late.'
Jack sat back down then, leaning forward, 'I owe you a
long-overdue apology, Daryl. For most of my life, I
thought you...'
'--Jack, please!' Daryl raised a shaky hand. 'Not,
necessary!' He looked over at Jack. 'You are here with
us, now, safe and sound. That's all I need...'
He closed his eyes then, as though tired. 'I, I don't
really remember much from so long ago. But, I swear to
you, I simply don't know what all happened!'
He opened his eyes and shook his head. 'I had...back
then, simply found myself, on my boat and into their
midst and was NOT a welcome presence there...
'I'd no idea what Drake was about. For all I knew, they
were both home, safe back in New York.' He sighed.
'Naturally, I tried to turn them about. Drake
seemed...rather unhinged. We nearly came to blows...then,
one moment we were aboard the boat, heading for the
maelstrom, and then...' he frowned, peering into the
distance as if trying to call up a vision of the past,
'...then...I found myself back in the gypsy camp, back in
Mexico...not far from Mt. Popo.'
He glanced briefly at Jack's incredulous stare, 'I have
no idea how any of that happened.'
'That's amazing, Daryl!' Em casually remarked, as though
he had simply stated he'd shaved off a few seconds from a
cart-ride to town. 'You mean, the same gypsies we had met
there? Your blood-brothers?'
Daryl nodded, quiet now.
'Hmmm...' Em mused. 'And, we had no idea how we had wound
up in Mexico, either, in the middle of la revolucion!'
She tapped a fingernail on the side of her tea mug.
'...There's something about Mt. Popo, Daryl, and your
gypsies as well.'
Aleister roused himself at last. 'Perhaps there is
something about mountains, in general, and some few in
particular. There have been strange tales and legends
about Old Popo, just as there are about our Mt. Shasta,
and others...' He stood and ambled back to the decanter,
pouring a refill.
'Some say, that there are secret underground bases
under these mountains. Under certain pyramids as well, in
Mexico, at Teotihuacan, as well as in Egypt, neath the
Sphinx...'
Emlyn smiled. 'I've heard of such! And lost tribes from
Atlantis and Lemuria hiding out under Shasta!'
'I'm rather weary of Atlantis, lately...' Daryl muttered.
No one paid him any mind.
The fire popped a spark onto the grate then and Jack
arose and prodded the logs about. Em was thinking how
good it was for them all to simply sit and talk like this
for a change, in a comfortable atmosphere, no pressures
at present.
'The fire just now recalls something to mind I'd nearly
forgotten...' Emlyn began, 'Daryl, do you remember
emerging out of this very fireplace in a halo of blue
fire?'
Daryl uttered what seemed to be a soft, growling moan to
himself. '...I'd rather hoped you had all forgotten
that...' he sighed, 'yes...I remember.'
Everyone was staring his way, attentive now. 'Well?!' Em
pressed.
'Alright.' Daryl rose and embraced the cognac decanter
then, pouring a shot. He strode slowly about the room
sipping...
'I was meditating. Far from here,' he glanced at his
'audience', 'I heard Yeats' voice then, calling upon the
Ancestors to come forward. I've studied abit of elemental
magics; fire, water and so on, with adepts in Nepal and
India. Thought I might give it a go, and...here I was!'
He drank a hefty swallow. 'By now, you should be able
to realize that, sometimes...with Us, these things
happen, rather easily. And, at times, without any
volition on our part.
'It may be our heritage, Jack,' he looked at his
nephew, 'and that, coupled with my once youthful
enthusiasm for the study of real magick, made me what I
am today. For better or worse,' he grimaced, and sat
again.
Uncle Daryl was being forthcoming indeed! Em bethought.
He'd certainly never mentioned any of his early magical
studies before.
'So...what of my father? How came he to be here with
you in the fire, then?'
Daryl looked up, nonplussed. 'He was here? Axelis?'
'Not he. I didn't know of Axelis then. My father,
the...terrestrial one...' Em still had a hard time even
thinking of the man, much less mentioning his name. She
feared his ghastly presence perhaps emerging once more.
'I'd no idea, Em! Oh, I know I was...trying to be
enigmatic then...actually, I was just as amazed as you to
have found myself here! But, it was worth it, to see
Jack...' Daryl admitted. 'But, no...I don't know how or
why your father showed. Sorry I can bear no light on that
subject. Ask Yeats, perhaps.'
A space of quiet then as the fire burned steadily on,
showing no signs of turning blue, and Dylan groaned in
his sleep and his legs began twitching, as he chased
squirrels in a dream...or whatever dogs do in their
astral form.
Aleister poured more brandy for himself, and Daryl
accepting a topoff as well, frowned into his snifter and
drank, seemingly in a bit of a funk now...
'Studied in Nepal, eh? A very strange and magical
place.' Al sipped and rattled on, 'Tibet, even more so.
Stories of such inaccessible monasteries as to be near-
mythical; hugging vast, frozen Himalayan peaks and built
over myriad underground caverns supposedly filled with
the mummies of giants and ancient, esoteric treasures...'
Emlyn recalled another odd thing, then: 'We have those
here!' Everyone looked askance at her. '...Not the
Tibetan monasteries, of course, but caves, with the
mummies of giants! Now I remember! Oh, how could I have
forgotten...?' She sat forward now, hand to forehead,
staring blankly.
'I've always been fascinated by odd tales and legends,
and there was actually an account in a Nevada newspaper,
I believe, that I found reprinted in a book at the
library...
'Some prospectors found an old cave on the Cal-Neva
border which had, they claimed, mummified remains of men
up to 8 and 9 feet tall! And that's not all!' Em looked
about at them closely, 'These mummies had long, red
hair!'
She paused, and swallowed. '...Like...like
Axelis...!'
All sat quietly pensive then. After awhile, Emlyn stood
and began to pace before the fire.
'I must find that article! Oh, if only I could recall
which book it was in!'
Jack spoke up suddenly, 'We do have a library here, of
sorts...'
Em snorted derisively. 'Not bloody Pankhurst, again!'
Jack smiled his sideways grin. 'No, Em, I mean here, at
the house, you know! I've actually brought some volumes
here from the Estate back east, to add to it recently...
always liked the idea having a library of my own. Here,'
he added, glancing rather apologetically at Daryl.
Daryl merely waved a hand, dismissively. 'As you wish.'
Emlyn was exited now. 'May we have a look, Jack? Now?'
And so, Jack and Em moved into the library room; Daryl
decided he best follow to keep an eye on things.
Their destination was one of the back rooms on the
ground floor which had held nothing but boxes and odd
bits of furniture the last time Em had seen it.
Jack entered first, and punched on the electric lighting.
Luckily, he'd copied his uncle in this, and amber wall
sconces lined the walls, slowly increasing their mellow
glow til Jack adjusted the knob back down abit.
Now, the old room looked rather more library-like: dark
mahogany shelves had been acquired and were neatly
arranged with books, new and old, mostly leather-bound.
The newer books were in a separate area with paperbound
books beside them. Large folios in both areas lay on the
bottom shelves, Em noted approvingly...just as in a
'real' library.
Several burgundy leather armchairs were scattered about,
near the windows for light, and a small but comfortable
matching sofa sat upon a thick Turkish carpet before the
fireplace. A dark solid mahogany desk, intricately
carved, sat behind this; Em noted the carvings were of
seashells, meremen and meremaids, oddly enough. She
rather liked it and hoped Jack wasn't now adverse to such
marine decorations... Smaller end tables with drawers
dotted the room with reading lamps upon them.
'Jack! Isn't this fine!' Em turned around, glancing at a
half-smiling Jack, who also seemed to be beholding the
room as though it was new to him as well.
'I...I'd been working on it for some time...just before
other things commanded my attention...' Jack gazed about,
running a hand along the desk and regarding it curiously.
Emlyn went first to the older volumes and asked, 'Have
you an electric torch, Jack? I don't wish the room to be
any brighter, but, some of these titles are so worn...'
Jack rummaged about the desk drawer and came up with a
thin torch, turning it on for Em.
'I brought some volumes specifically relating to early
California history...here...' he handed the torch to her.
Meanwhile, Daryl had prowled about silently, and then,
characteristically perhaps, hunkered down before the
fireplace and began to lay a fire.
By the time he had a blaze burning cheerily, the room
seemed to come to life then, and he joined the others
in their shelf-searching. Emlyn had two volumes under her
arm and was perusing another, as she edged to the sofa
and sat, engrossed. Jack soon joined her on the other
end, whilst Daryl sighed, hands in pockets.
'I'll just go make some tea, then, shall I?'
No one answered.
He returned much later, having rather lingered awhile
elsewhere, and, (alas, he thought), found them both still
deep in book lore. He sat the tea tray upon the desk and
shook his head once. He had rather hoped...well, young
people alone...but, apparently, it was much too soon for
such intimacy between these two. As yet...
He poured for all, and quietly served their teas upon
their respective tables, and, then, studying a folio,
retrieved it and his cup to an armchair and began
perusing a topographical gazetteer.
Em suddenly recalled he was there. 'Oh, thank you,
Daryl!' She sipped some tea then returned to her book.
'So much sounds familiar, and is so engrossing! These
are truly wonderful volumes you have, Jack!' She paused,
and took a sip of tea, then plunged back into her study.
'But, as yet...I don't think...wait!' She sat forward.
'I don't believe it! Jack! Here it is!...the
reproduction of the news story, look!'
Jack moved over beside her, and Daryl, in spite of
himself, also came to her side and leaned over the page.
'It's from a Reno paper...oh...it isn't the same
article I recall, but, look here, it does mention 'guano
miners',--not gold prospectors, 'found in a Nevada cave,
skeletons,'-- not mummies! '--of large people, topping at
least 8 feet!' Em stabbed a finger at the book. 'You see!
I knew it!' She handed the book to Jack, and stood, began
pacing before the fire once more.
Jack studied the article, as did Daryl. Em seemed deep in
thought, and muttered to herself as she paced.
'No red haired mummies, yet, but close! Hmmm...guano
miners! Interesting! Like Jethro and Homer...'
She stopped pacing. 'Jack. Guano Acres! WE have a CAVE!
HERE!'
Jack and Daryl looked up at Em. 'But, Em, I've seen their
cave! And smelled it! And had a hard time getting it off
my boots!' he looked askance at Daryl, grinning, almost
like the old Jack.
'There's alotta guano there, not much else!'
Em raised her eyes heavenward. 'Oh, Jack! That isn't the
entire cave! There's more...'
Daryl straightened then and eyed her narrowly. 'Oh, no!
NO! No, no!' He held up a hand. 'I am NOT rescuing the
two of you, out spelunking a bat-infested, guano-
encrusted cave! Absolutely, NOT! Get that out of your
head right now, missy!' He ran an anxious hand through
his hair, and shook an already shaking finger at Em:
'You are staying put! Both of you! GROUNDED! And not
below ground, either!' He put both hands to his head and
scratched his hair madly... 'Arrrughah!' Daryl made a
growling sortof sighing moan and betook himself off in a
splendid fit of high dudgeon.
Jack and Emlyn merely regarded one another.
'More tea, Em?' Jack enquired.
. . . .
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