..::What we call the soul, the Maidu named heart. The
northern valley people believe that a person's heart
lingers near the body for several days. It then journeys to
every spot which the living person had visited, retracing
each of his steps and reenacting every deed performed in
life. This accomplished, the spirit seeks a mysterious cavern
in the Marysville Buttes, where for the first time it eats
spirit food and is washed. From the Marysville Buttes the
spirit ascends to the sky land, flower land, or spirit land,
as it is variously called.
The hill residents tell of the same journey traveled by the
dead. But these reach the abounding sky land - "valley above"
- by going east along the path of the sun, instead of to the
Marysville Buttes::..
"My heart is like a Feather
And my spirits are dancing"
--Abigail Adams
. . . .
The day was cool and cloudy, (thankfully, thought Emlyn), as
she and Sean headed up the mountain at last. She rode with
him on the driver's seat, with Pancho tied behind the wagon;
her 'essentials' (including, naturally, her mandolin packed
ever-so-carefully within her trunk), stored snugly amongst
Sean's tools, cargo and dowsing paraphernalia in the old
wooden wagon.
She had stayed on a few days at Jethro's and had made careful
study of Sean's dowsing techniques whilst he searched and
marked and double-checked his 'strikes', as he called the
instances when the rods would suddenly drag his arms down to
the ground when he found a likely water source.
They couldn't stay for the actual sinking of the new well,
however, as Emlyn was anxious to be off and had much to
attend to with her move. Also, it was nearing May Day.
Sean had found a room for her in the interim, at Mrs.
Murphy's boarding house not far from where Jeanne resided.
So she was bringing enough with her to stay on for a time
whilst perusing the purview of her new locale.
Em's spirits lifted as they headed up and over hill and dale,
green hullocks turning to gold now in the heat of the spring
sun, and finally came to a high valley encircled by thickly
wooded hills with mountains beyond. The day became hot and
after they stopped and rested in the shade a few times, they
at last passed the large lava landmarks of the Black Buttes
in the west.
One more rest stop and then, as the sun headed into the
Pacific, Em spied an interesting rise far in the distance
which seemed to grow separate of the others and had a flat
top that reminded her of the scenery she'd seen down south en
route to Mexico.
'That's an interesting point there, Sean...with the flat
top,' she shielded her eyes from the setting sun.
'Aye. That's Mesa Mountain. The local tribes regard it, and
the Buttes as sacred places, where the high spirits reside.
The Maidu call them the 'kakini'. There are waterfalls, and
caves there, too.' Sean replied matter-of-factly.
''Kakini'', Em repeated, trying it out. '...Like the San
Francisco Peaks in Arizona, where the katchinas live...'
Sean nodded. 'And beyond there, up the hills, lies Cherokee.'
Emlyn remembered that name.'Cherokee? Really? We are that
close?' She recalled hearing about the Welsh miners who
populated that area.
Sean grinned at her, 'Not that close, really. It would take
another day to get up there. But, we're closer to Cherokee
than Pankhurst now, forr surre...'
Thank the goddess for that, Em thought, tired now, and her
numb posterior told her that they had come many a mile,
indeed. As it took the better part of a day simply to get to
Jethro's from Pankhurst, her head swam trying to calculate
the mileage they'd covered from there. All she wanted now was
a bed and something to gnaw on. She would contact Jeanne
manana...
It was full dark by the time they climbed over the last rise
and could discern twinkling lights below in the little hamlet
of Malta, surrounded by acres of olive orchards.
'I didn't realize you have electrical lighting here. I
figured it would be considered too small a village to warrant
it.'
'Ooh, we're not altogether rustics herre, you know...' Sean
casually replied, unoffended, '...even Thomas Edison had a
hand in the mining and hydraulics at Cherokee, you know. And
neighboring toons are still mining, so they needed the power.
And, they had the gold to make it so. Or, did.' Sean guided
the wagon into the 'toon' proper. 'Most of the big mining
operations are winding doon now...aboot leached all the
yellow out of the hills, they have.'
Em was nodding by now and all-but zombiefied by the long
hours on the road. But Sean at last pulled his sure and
steady steed up to the hitching post of a big house on the
edge of town.
So dark it was now, and Emlyn so exhausted, that she barely
noted her surroundings, but numbly unloaded her bags and
stumbled up the front steps of Mrs. Murphy's, Sean in the
lead with her trunk balanced on one stooped shoulder.
'Would that be yourself, Sean Munroe?' came a woman's hearty
voice from somewhere within the house.
'Aye, it's us, a'right...' Sean set down the trunk with a
thump, and earned himself one from Mrs. Murphy's wooden
spoon, as she hove into view from the kitchen, a tall woman
with apron wrapped 'round her formidable bulk, showing flour
marks, Em noted, hopefully sniffing the scent of baking.
'And you'll not be a'waking the tenants with your clangorous
thunderin'!' Mrs. Murphy turned to Emlyn then, 'And this is
our new border, I'm thinking! Well! Miss Page, do come in!
Sure and you're near to dropping!' She turned and ducked back
around the kitchen corner, 'Seamus! Would you be getting the
lady's things up the stairs now?! Be quick about it, lad!'
She took Em's arm and hustled her into the kitchen without
further ado, whilst Sean headed back outside to water his
horse. 'I'll turn your pony out into the pasture, lass, you
relax, noo...'
'It's a washup and sommat to eat, then bed for you, I'll
wager, eh? Poor thing, she looks like to fade away before me
eyes! Did you not stop on the road to rest at'all, man?' She
seemed not to notice the absence of The Man, but bustled
about and put bowls and cutlery on the table, commenting on
this and that all the while.
And so, giving Emlyn no pause to blink or say a how d'you
do?, her new landlady showed her into the washroom behind the
kitchen whilst Sean came in and washed up at the sink and
took a seat at the long wooden table lined with benches, not
chairs, and helped himself to fresh scones, lamb stew and
potatoes, of course. A tall lanky lad entered through a back
porch and smiling at Em, he touched his cap, and with a
'Ma'am,' he set to hauling her effects upstairs.
Sean paused in his scone-hole-stuffing to take out his pocket
watch and remark, 'Just after 9 o'the clock! Not bad,
consid'rin' we got on the road after 9 this morn...'
Mrs. Murphy regarded him from on high, hands on hips to rival
a Percheron's. 'Aye...and that's all men do t'ink of, just
goin' down the road, quick as can be, lookin' neither left
nor right!' Sean opened his mouth to protest, recalling many fine rest stops en route, but, he thought: scones, and thought better
of it and dished up more stew instead.
'We made it in remarkable time, truly, Sean, thank you,'
Emlyn at last got a word in and approached her hostess, 'I'm
so pleased to meet you at last, Mrs. Murphy! I've heard
nothing but fine things about you and your establishment.'
Mrs. Murphy wiped her hands on her apron and pushing her
gray-brown locks back into her bun, held out a meaty warm
hand.
'And pleased to meet you, dear, I'm sure,' she replied with
a firm shake. 'Now. Sit yourself down and help your famished
self to what humble fare we offer. I managed to save some of
the stew from supper, and baked fresh scones...letsee, here's
buth'er and jam...I make my own, you see, so it's always
fresh and tasty...won some ribbons at the fair, too, so I
have, not to be braggin' on't...'
Emlyn smiled at Sean as he gave her a grin and a wink, then
as Mrs. Murphy chattered on regarding the house rules and
such, she busied herself with supper til she felt as though
she would fall face-first asleep into her stew bowl.
'The lass is all-in. Here, let me help you to your room,
Emlyn, you're like to fall over!' Mrs. Murphy helped her off
the bench, but Em shook her head, patting the landlady's hand
assuringly, 'No, no, Mrs. Murphy, pray don't bother! I'm
quite able. It's the first door on the left side of the hall,
isn't it?'
Mrs. Murphy insisted upon taking Em upstairs, so bidding Sean
goodnight, thank you, fare thee well, and see you soon, Em
found herself facing a much-longed-for bed at last. Murmuring
assents and acknowledgements of the admirable comfort of her
room, which she noted very little of except the bed before
her with it's siren's song, at last Em gratefully shut and
locked her door and barely managed to strip down to her
chemise and crawl beneath the cool welcome sheets...
. . . .
Emlyn opened her eyes the next day and wondered where she
was. Briefly. White curtains billowed about a half-opened
window and she could hear birds singing spring songs to aid
the blossomings. She arose and tried to stand and sat back
down with an 'Aahgh!' --Sore. Sore all over from yesterday's
long cramped trek. After stretching awhile, she gingerly got
herself together.
Her 'wee' room was just that; plain and simple, very basic; a
wardrobe, small dresser and a night table beside the single
bed, which was covered with a neat patchwork crazy quilt. Em
smiled as she smoothed it, pleased by the whimsical designs.
She washed up with the pitcher of water and basin atop the
dresser, shook out a light cotton dress and braided her hair,
then decided she was sufficiently presentable and headed down
the stairs, after locking her door behind her, following the
smell of baking below, which was calling her name.
Traces of breakfast come and gone greeted her in the kitchen
as she entered and found the room oddly empty. Peeking out
the big window she saw the sun was rather high already and
feared she had over-slept.
Poking about, however, she found tea, with kettle on the
stove still warm, and so made a mug for herself, and found
scones in the oven. Perfect. As she munched, she could hear
Mrs. Murphy calling to some yard chickens as she gathered
eggs.
Thus far, Em decided she had made a good move. This notion
was confirmed when she suddenly heard a familiar voice hail
her landlady. Jeanne was here!
Em flew out the back door and rushed up to her sister-in-
spirit and gave her a hug, 'Oh, Jeanne!'
'Well, and I'm glad to see you, too!' Jeanne laughed, 'Let
me get my breath, girl!'
'I see you found the scones, a'right!' Mrs. Murphy reached
over and dabbed a spot of blackberry jam from Em's cheek.
Everyone had a chuckle then as the landlady ushered them to
wicker seats on the front porch, then she disappeared inside.
'I've been wondering about you!' Jeanne took her hands, 'What
all has been going on, anyway? We've heard so little, and
your, ah, Senor Rivera...was most worried about you...and
Jack,' she added, looking concerned.
Emlyn sat back and looked away a moment, biting her lip. She
needed to tell her friends about her current predicament, and
what she feared may have happened, but...here in the bright
light of day, in such a mundane setting, tales of Sidhe lords
bespelling one, meetings with ancestors from the beyond the stars
and suddenly discovering that one has a half-faery son without ever having given birth, seemed frightfully out of place amongst the scratching, clucking hens and sounds of Mrs. Murphy singing Who T'rew the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder' in the kitchen...
'I will, and must, tell you all...' she began looking at her
hands clasped tightly in her lap, '...but, not just now.' She
looked up at Jeanne, her eyes pleading and appearing rather
confused still.
'Of course...' Jeanne patted her arm and sat back in her
chair, '...you've had a long journey and are still getting
settled! I'm just so relieved to find you well. Shannon will
be stopping by later. And Uncle Sean, of course.'
'Uncle Sean?' Em asked, eyes wide, 'Not, Sean Munroe?'
'Yes, of course! He's my uncle, on my mother's side. She was
of the Monroe clan before she married into the McKinnons. I'm
a Scot through and through!'
Before Em had a chance to digest this, Jeanne held up a
hand, 'Hark! Methinks that's the wagon now!'
Sure enough, as Em stood she could see coming up the road,
first Sean's good horse and then his fiery red head appeared
approaching over the hill like it's own blazing sunrise, with
the smaller sun of Shannon's golden head beside him, but
before Sean could pull up to the house, Shannon leapt lightly
from the wagon like an elf and ran up to greet them.
'So here you are, then!' She hugged Em and Jeanne both at
once, bouncing all the while, 'And about time it is, too!'
Em realized then, how much she had missed this closeness
with her celtic sisters, and felt chagrin for having traded
their company of late for the strange and sensuous sorceries
of Gwydion's realm...
Mrs. Murphy reappeared from within the house as Sean joined
them on the porch, taking a loaded tray from her despite her
protestations, and set before them a country lunch of deviled
eggs, brown bread and 'buth'er', with fruits and cheeses and
the ubiquitous teapot.
As the party settled about the feast, Sean looked up from
pouring tea to find Em shaking her finger at him, 'You never
told me you were Jeanne's uncle, Sean! After all this time!'
Sean just grinned, well-pleased with himself, as Mrs. Murphy
laughed and called him the 'devil's own handyman, sure!'
'And, you, Jeanne!' Em continued, 'You never told me you
could dowse!'
'Everyone can dowse!' Shannon replied, cutting up apple
slices for all, 'Some people just don't know it.'
'Tis so,' Jeanne affirmed, 'and we'll show you how.'
'Aye,' Sean agreed, sitting back and buttering a scone,
'even our Matilda here...', he nodded to Mrs. Murphy, who
blushed, her apple cheeks becoming even redder.
'Ohh...it was just a matter of a lost broach, 'tis all...'
she seemed shy suddenly, 'I found it with the pendulum.
Was'na like locating water for wells and such.' She brushed
crumbs from her skirt as if to say, that's that. But Emlyn
looked at her, and at Sean, and wondered if perhaps they were
more than friends.
After lunch and a chat, Sean offered to help Mrs. Murphy fix
a hole in her barn roof, and they took off on their errand,
after Emlyn offered to take in the tea things and tidy up.
'We'll have a wee walk,' said Jeanne, after they put the
kitchen to rights. 'I'm so glad you are here! We've much to
show you...and, 'tis May Day soon, you know!'
'Tomorrow is May Eve!' Shannon began to bounce on her heels
again, propelled by impending excitement, 'And after the
ceremony, there's the ceilidh here at the Bear's Den.'
'"Bear's Den", eh?' Emlyn asked, as they donned straw hats
and proceeded together around the yard and through the gate,
off into the wildwood. 'Friendly bears?'
'They're...very friendly...' Shannon began, but Jeanne nudged
her and unfolded a burlap bag from her skirt pocket, 'We're
looking for fennel today. Good in salads...' and shot
Shannon a warning glance, unnoticed by Em, who was gazing all
about her at the lushness of the countryside in spring.
'It's smells so fine up here, among the pine...' Em smiled,
'I should write a song...' She felt much lighter, freer here,
far from the city's bustle, crowds and noise. 'I have missed
the country life.' She shook her head, 'There's been such a
whirlwind of activity all about me of late...I really need
this, this...oasis.'
'Well, it has it's drawbacks too, as you will find, whenever
you have to wait for weeks for a package to be delivered, or
drive 10 miles to pick one up,' Jeanne sighed, 'but, I
wouldn't trade it for the world. Ah, I smell licorice!' And
the girls began to pick the lime green new feathery shoots of
fennel growing wild.
'Wild grapes, figs, almonds...though bitter, most of
them...' Shannon ticked off the fruits of nature's local
bounty, '...but, sure'n it's not a bad place to live. And
wait til summer, and blackberries!'
'Wuf! Surely summer's already here!' Em took her hat off and
wiped her wet forehead, fanning herself.
'Come on! Let's to the river, then!' Shannon leaped about
like a fawn before them and skipped down the trail, leading
them off the main path to a wandering deer track which led
down the hillside. Soon Em could discern the rushing rapids,
as they came within sight of the Plumas River.
Shannon was taking her shoes off and tucking up her skirts
when they came upon her.
'Don't be wandering into the currents, girl! I'm not
fishing you out like a drowned rat!' Jeanne warned her.
Shannon waved her off and waded alongside the bank. 'It's
fine here, old woman...come on in, you two; 'tisn't as
through we'll be flung over the falls!'
Indeed, the water seemed still and quiet enough close to the
banks, and soon all three were knee-deep in it, and splashing
like sprites in the springtime. Which they were.
'It must be 10 degrees cooler here!' Em climbed up on a
flat rock in the river's midst, and leaned back in the shade,
dangling her legs in the water. Jeanne and Shannon soon
joined her, and they all lay down, heads touching and looking
from above like the Triad they were.
'So. We'll be meeting up for the ceremony at Jeanne's
tomorrow noon. Then we proceed to The Meadows. After ceremony
is done, then the celebration!' Shannon swung her feet,
flinging water wide, 'And we'll be celebrating all throughout
May Day as well, and on into the night!'
'The ceremony, and the blessing of the goddess and her
consort is the main thing,' The Crone admonished the Nymph,
feeling it her duty.
'Oh, aye,' Shannon splashed harder, 'but the goddess loves
to see her folk happy and rejoicin' in her blessings! 'Tis
how the crops are made to grow, just as birds sing in the
blossoming, so we make a joyful noise...isn't it so, Emlyn?'
The Maiden 'Hmmm'd' her assent, but seemed rather pensive.
'All should be given equal due: the ceremony and the
rejoicing, after.'
'Spoken like a true Libran! You should be in politics!'
Jeanne laughed, and sent a mighty splash the others' way,
setting off a splash-fest amongst the three.
'Rejoicin'...' Shannon whispered to Em.
Once they had settled back down, Emlyn put her hat over her
face and felt relaxed enough, surrounded by riversong, bird
calls and warm spring sun, that she was nearly drifting into
a light doze...when she felt Shannon nudge her, 'So. Emlyn.
You must tell us where you have been. What happened after the
Hallows Eve Ball? You know we came all the way to San
Francisco seeking you, and Jack!'
'--Shannon!' Jeanne sat up, 'We agreed not to bother Emlyn
until she was ready to tell us!'
'Speaking of bother?! T'was no small feat going all the way
to the City to find what had become of her
disappearing...bustle!' Shannon had begun to splash mightily
once more. 'I couldn't sleep for the portents I kept
getting!'
Jeanne gave her a last hard look, then lay back down sighing.
Shannon merely continued to splash, somewhat less furiously.
Emlyn knew she owed her friends at least some explanation...
She sighed and came out from under her hat, 'Oh, it isn't
that I don't want to tell you both, everything! I've wanted
to so very much. And it's not been easy, having to keep it to
myself.
'But...it's so complicated, and, and somewhat
unbelievable...I hardly know where to start and you may just
think me mad...' Em blurted out enough to get their
curiosity aroused to boiling point. But where does one begin?
My ex-fiancé was seduced by a witch, with whom he now has a son,
and barely escaped becoming shark bait at best or dematerialized by an Atlantean crystal at worst, I was enspelled by a faery lord and now have a half-fey son of my own, and, let's see, what did I leave out? Oh, my sister in a future life is actually myself and our father is from another star system?
'Try us!' Shannon sat up now, all attention. 'Em: as I said,
I haven't been sleeping nights, seeing the strange worlds you
have walked in of late, not to mention Jack's scenarios...'
Em looked at her youngest sister, knowing of her prescience.
'Alright. I'll try. But, just some basic facts, as it is a
lengthy tale and will take some time in the telling of it
all...'
'I'll be here all weekend!' Shannon smiled like a cat,
winking at Jeanne.
Emlyn sighed then, and rolled onto her side, staring at the
river flowing by, letting it take her back in time, nearly a
year since it all began, really, the events leading up to
All Hallow's Eve and her...disappearance.
'Alright, then. But, please reserve any judgments. You
know that Jack and I are friends, but once we might have been
more. Anyway, it wasn't working out for us, not as such. And
so, Jack was at Jethro's during Hallowe'en, as you know from
Allyn...'
'...And we were all at the Leek's, yes, Em. And we all saw
you flying out the back door, arm in arm with the Sidhe Lord,
and Diego on your tail, fit to be tied!' Shannon supplied,
unasked; which earned her a kick from Jeanne, 'Ow! Well, I'm
only telling what we know already!'
Emlyn only lay on her back once more and fanned herself with
her hat, 'Mayhap you should tell me what you know, and spare
me the telling! For I can assure you, it would spare me much
grief in the remembering...'
Jeanne shot a look of reproach at Shannon, 'You see!' she
hissed, and Shannon bit her lip, looking down. 'Well...it
could not have all been so bad, surely?' she asked.
'No...no, it wasn't...at all,' she sighed, 'in fact, it was
glorious!' She trailed her hand in the water and splashed.
'And I forgot...everything else; the time, Jack, my home, my
friends...' Em frowned, trying to recall. She hadn't actually
attempted to think of her sojourn among the Sidhe. She had
simply wanted to forget. But now...
'But, that isn't quite true. I did remember. But, somehow,
it seemed like another lifetime ago, and utterly irrelevant.
I wished to stay there, always.' She turned and looked at her
sister acolytes. 'And I might have done so...if, if Gwydion
hadn't shown his true intentions...'
'Ooh, Em! I'm truly sorry for my being pushy!' Shannon put a
hand on her shoulder, 'You know I'm leaping without looking
sometimes! I don't mean to cause you any pain...and that
Gwydion! Oh, after all the girls he has spirited away, I'm
just glad you got away from him and showed him you aren't just
another of his doxies!'
'Shannon!' Jeanne sat up, thundering, 'What I shall do to
you later, you do not want to want to know!' She closed her
eyes, got hold of herself and turned to a stunned Emlyn,
'Don't listen to her ravings! You know how the child
exaggerates!'
But Emlyn scarcely heard her at all. Echoing in her mind were
the words: 'all the girls' that Gwydion had taken away with
him, and 'his doxies'...oh, goddess...surely she was the
biggest fool...and to think she deserted Jack when he was
most in need. That was unforgiveable.
'Now you've set her to weeping! A fine welcome you've made
here, Shannon Fitzgerald! Remind me to tie you up before you
cause a national disaster!' Jeanne put her arms about Em's
shoulders and glared axes and daggers at Shannon.
'No, no...'tisn't Shannon's fault...she speaks only truth!
How could I not have realized?' Em sniffled and blew her
nose. 'Of course I'm not the only poor girl he's ensnared and
tried to force into marriage...'
'Marriage?!' Jeanne and Shannon both exclaimed, eyes wide.
They looked at one another. 'You, he...' Jeanne began,
'...ah, did you say 'marriage'?' The two girls were quite
flummoxed.
'Oh, he wouldn't let up on it! I told him I was not
interested...that I may come back, someday, but I had things
to do back in the, ah, on the mundane plane...but, even if I
ever returned to him, I would certainly never be anyone's
wife, worldly or otherwise.' Em looked down, folding her
kerchief, '...Not that it did me any good. He had his way,
and got what he wanted...' She looked up then, steely and
dry-eyed once more.
'He got what he wanted...?' Jeanne began, 'What do you mean,
girl? Are you the wife of the Sidhe Lord, or no?' She looked
blankly at Shannon, 'Good Goddess, we've the Queen of Elfhame
here!'
Shannon was, for once, speechless.
Em said nothing for a moment, her eyes closed. Then, a quiet,
'No.' She opened her eyes, 'I did not marry Gwydion. I
returned his necklace, and...and then...suddenly Diego was
there!
'From out of nowhere, seemingly! And he caught me up and
away.' Em's expression seemed far away, '....and somehow...we were returned here.' Em's features became pained. 'And I've repaid him for that brave, merciful deed, with nothing but sorrow...' Em sniffed, '...and Jack, oh, what have I done to Jack...?'
Looking confused, the other two comforted Em with soft words
and gentle touch, yet they wished to somehow make sense of
Em's ramblings...
'Dinna ye fash yourself, lass...' Jeanne remonstrated,
'...it's just that, well!' She glanced at Shannon who was
still gobsmacked, 'Truly we have never heard of Gwydion ever
asking any to be his wife! The Sidhe do take girls, or boys,
but they're usually back after an evening!' She patted Em's
shoulder, offering her hanky, as Em's was now sodden. 'But,
why does this pain you so, my sweet?'
Em said nothing for some time; her featured contorted in
wretchedness. Then, '...He, he worked a spell, somehow...'
she whispered.
The women were quiet and still, waiting. '--Yes...?' Jeanne
prodded at last.
'I...I'm not sure...but...' she raised her tear-streaked
visage and looked at them with undisguised misery, '...but,
he may have, somehow...been able to fashion, a, a Childe,
between us...' Em grabbed Jeanne's hanky and hid her face
behind it, turning away.
. . . .
Massachusetts House, early evening.
Jack and Aleister were seated in the parlor, relaxing after a
long day in the lab. Alice was curled up on the windowsill
bird watching, while Dylan slept at their feet, his legs and
tail twitching, uttering soft 'wufs' in his dreams.
'Dylan's chasing squirrels, I bet!' Aleister remarked,
lighting a cigaro by the fireplace.
Jack smiled down at the pup, grown into a gangly adolescent
now. 'Everyone assumes that. But who knows what errand he's
on, in whatever world dogs inhabit on the astral plane?'
. . . .
'Dylan! Come on, boy! We haven't much time!'
Dylan looked up to find his Boy calling him. It was time to
go. He loved it when he had others to hunt and run with Here,
and came with his Boy, known as Llew, whenever he could.
'That's a good laddie!' Llew petted Dylan and they frisked
and rolled about awhile in play, 'That's enough, now!' He
stood up, and pushed his auburn locks from his eyes, 'We have
to find someone! C'mon, laddie! We're on the Hunt!'
And away they ran...
. . . .
'Medruat!' Llew called, 'Medruat! Med-dy! Come on, we're
waiting!' Llew looked at Dylan, who stood wagging his tail.
'You fetch him, then. He's not coming to me!'
Dylan padded over to the dark haired lad soundly sleeping,
and began to lick his face. Violet-blue eyes flew open neath
long black lashes and 'Meddy' smiled at Dylan.
'Let's go, Medraut! 'Tis late!' Llew paced anxiously, as
the young lad joined him, playfully shoving his friend.
'I was sleeping sound!' He admonished Llew.
Llew grinned down at the large lump beneath the bedcovers,
black hair spilled over the pillow in all directions, the
body softly snoring.
'You still are!' He told Medraut, and they laughed as
they flew away into the night's revels.
. . . .
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