"...They are so ridiculous, these English magicians! They do everything in such a roundabout way. I tell you, Stephen, watching this fellow try to do magic is like watching a man sit down to eat his dinner with his coat on backwards, a blindfold round his eyes and a bucket over his head! When did you ever see me perform such nonsensical tricks? Draw forth my own blood or scribble words on paper? Whenever I wish to do something, I simply speak to the air - or to the stones -or to the sunlight - or the sea - or to whatever it is and politely request them to help me. And then since my alliances with these powerful spirits were set in place thousands of years ago, they are only too glad to do whatever I ask."
-- The Gentleman, (a Fairy), to Stephen
from:
Susanna Clarke's
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell
. . . .
"Your flaw is to remain glued to the inventory of reason. Reason doesn't deal with man as energy. Reason deals with instruments that create energy, but it has never seriously occurred to reason that we are better than instruments: we are organisms that create energy..."
'Don Juan'
The Fire From Within
Carlos Castaneda
* * * *
'Daryl...?' Emlyn called as she entered the big cold House.
'Wuf!' She kept her coat wrapped tightly about her as she went first to check the parlor where she noted a weak fire beginning to catch there, but no sign of the Master of the House.
Kitchen, perhaps?
Ah, a bit warmer here; someone had the woodstove going and a kettle on. Still no Daryl.
The library, of course; that surely would be Daryl's hideout where he could secret and gloat over his Infernal Objects d'Arts...
As Em trek'd to the library's double doors she had a mental construct of Daryl bent Scrooge-like over his antiques and insalubrious acquisitions, rubbing hands together and chortling over his baneful booty...
-- Ah, and so he was!
Well, perhaps not altogether so; He was standing hands on hips regarding Cup and Box before him upon the study desk. At least a fire was burning brightly here...Em removed her coat at last.
She sidled up to him. 'Alright, luv?' She inquired, eyebrow at the arch and ready for action.
'Hm. Yes...' He frowned at Cup and Box. Sighed. Then he seemed to see Em at last.
He turned to her, smiled slightly and put an arm about her shoulders. 'You're cold still...' he hugged her to his side. 'It will warm in here soon. Manuel lighted the fires and then left, fast as a Chilean fleeing a snow storm, back to Fog City!'
'It is beginning to warm up here, a bit...' Emlyn tried to repress a shiver as she clung to Daryl like a heat-seeking lizard to a rock.
'The...items are all here I see.'
'Yes. Odd, though.' He chanced a glance her way, and back.
'Just a moment ago, I thought I detected a sort of blueish glow about them both. It came, and then went...' His hand stretched toward the Things, and then flew off, and away.
He suddenly recalled something, turning to Em. 'Where is Athena?'
Em sighed. She had an idea what may have just caused such a glow.
'Shall we sit at the fire a moment?'
Daryl nodded, and took a key from the desk drawer. Opening the armoire, he then sheathed the Cup and stowed it within, then setting the Box beside it, locked up.
'Daryl...the oddest thing just happened...outside,' she began as he took a seat beside her.
'Athena and I were walking here, when we both saw a silver streak in the sky; it headed behind the birch grove and seemed to settle somewhere in the woods beyond.' She looked at Daryl closely to see if he understood what this might portend.
She touched his arm to get his attention. 'I saw Athena meeting someone then, someone I knew.'
Daryl frowned before him, not looking at her. 'Who?' Daryl had an idea then, whom it may have been. He was not happy at the notion.
'It was Axelis. My, ah, father. MEETING with Athena!' Em rubbed her forehead. 'I don't know what to think!'
'That explains the blue glow...' Daryl sighed. Ah, gods...Lord and Lady, this did not bode well.
Daryl stood then and went to the mantle, drummed his fingers upon it. Put hands in his pockets and began to pace.
-- Athena and Axelis!
Daryl had suspected, and in fact, had known, that Athena went timewalking and made journeys into Otherworlds on her own, for as long as he had known her. However...he never did enquire too closely into her personal business.
Theirs had always been a friendly relationship; Daryl as her young admirer, had wished to offer his favorite librarian a refuge when he had made his escape into the alternate Timeline here. Athena had been more than willing to come.
But, just as she hadn't delved into Daryl's personal life, neither did he feel he'd any right to mind Athena's business; he'd enough of his own.
He had noticed certain oddities about the skies, and around the Gatehouse, but that could have been attributed to almost anything, with this place...
Then, too...this may be something new; he'd a thought just then: Oh, diosa...!
Daryl's head fell forward into his hands; a low moan escaping him...
'Querido? Are you alright?' Emlyn sat forward, regarding Daryl.
'Ooh...I, I don't really know!' Daryl scratched his hair, and turned a half-grinning, half-frowning countenance toward her. He looked like a man who, having played a practical joke upon someone, suddenly found it had blown up in his face.
'I, I am just thinking that, you know...maybe...ah,' Daryl grabbed the poker and thrust it about the fire, then laughed, mirthlessly. He straightened up and leaned upon the poker, looking at Em.
'I, eh, just wondered if Axelis...if he KNOWS, Em! -- Ah!' Daryl shook the poker at nothing, then looked at it as if he had no idea what it was. Put it back in the rack.
'Oh, Emlyn...why did I not even think of this?!' He plopped himself upon the sofa beside her once more, and bent over, head in hands again.
'Diego -- ?' Emlyn put a tentative hand upon her suddenly unhinged partner.
'Ooh...' Groaning again, Daryl looked up. 'Of course, he knows, he must. Emlyn...you are his daughter! I did not even consult him, before we...' Daryl swallowed, and choked, coughing.
'Ah, gods...naturally he would be concerned about whom weds his daughter! Bloodlines tracked; in the making, bioengineered over the centuries...' Daryl regarded the fire in despair. 'I am in deep, dejecta...'
Emlyn stifled a chortle. She put her arm though his. 'Diosa, Diego! He knows you!' (Daryl flinched a bit at this thought.)
'We are adults, cher! We need not ask permission, and even if -- I mean, how to accomplish such a maneuver? To get hold of Axelis? Ring him? Send a wireless? He is about the most insubstantial, amorphous being one could find...even more so than my other father...'
Em simply couldn't believe Daryl was quaking in his boots at the thought of Axelis taking him to task for not asking for Emlyn's hand.
Daryl just looked at her. He simply couldn't believe that Emlyn was so dismissive of such egregious effrontery as he had surely presented toward his 7 foot tall future father-in-law with a Pleiadian warship...
'-- Oy...' Daryl groaned, his head falling into his hands once again.
Emlyn bit her lip to keep from grinning. How quaint that Daryl would suddenly recall such tender niceties after the fact. She patted his shoulder in sympathy. Doofus.
Daryl tried to recall the last time he had seen Axelis...when it was he'd no idea, but it was decidedly whenever they had rescued Jack from the Maelstrom in the Bermuda Triangle, with said warship. It was rather something else again to think of such just outside his windows...
Yeats had been aboard, also; he had been instrumental in Jack's deliverance. As had Thelene...but not Anara.
Daryl's head jerked up. My gods and goddess...he'd forgotten that rather sticky aspect; he had once wooed Axelis'
other daughter as well, Anara. Emlyn's sister.
Could it be any worse? What could Axelis possibly think of him, other than to consider him an opportunist of the worst sort?
A revolutionary, a thief, (that is: some would argue the legality of some of his acquisitions), not quite an arms-dealer, (although some would argue this point, also), a conniving, womanizing rapscallion, kidnapping Emlyn and dragging her across centuries and worlds not her own, embroiling them in wars, duels, battles and beheadings (his own), natural disasters and possible human sacrifice...(his own again, as well; having only been just saved by Em.)
Oh, he had much to recommend himself as a prospective son-in-law, alright...
'Was that a knock at the front door?' Emlyn glanced behind her.
Daryl leapt up like a scalded cat. His fur would have stood up if he'd any. Defenselessly human in his skin, his stomach roiled and he broke out in a cold sweat. He ran a hand through his already-much-disheveled hair and wondered if he could flee out the window. Or into another century...another planet.
He'd a sinking feeling the infernal warship could follow him to the Otherworld and take the hounds of Annwn after him with it.
-- Nothing for it.
'I'll...go see,' he croaked hoarsely.
. . . .
Walking as to his doom, Daryl slowly approached the front door which rattled under the knocker's blows. His mouth was dry as Martian dust and his bowels suddenly felt rather loose... Emlyn strode amiably by his side.
'Diosa have mercy...,' he whispered, lifting a shaking hand to the doorknob.
The door opened to a snow-frosted Athena. 'About time! What took so long? I'm frozen as a popsicle!'
'"Pop-sickle?"' Em inquired, taking Athena's long white fur-trimmed coat.
'Umm...rather like carbonated frozen sugar with artificial color and flavor, or was at one time. Best done without, now. Thanks Em!' She shook out her long silver tresses. 'What's got into you now?' She studied Daryl, 'You look as though you'd seen a ghost!'
Daryl smiled weakly. 'I...it's nothing. Come in and warm up, we should have a decent fire in the parlor by now.'
Athena cocked a wry eyebrow, but kept her peace for the nonce as she gratefully settled into the sofa beside the fireplace, and removed her mukluks.
'It's a fine night, the storm is just now blowing in off the coast! Should be another foot or so of snow soon...'
Daryl stood silent by the mantle, rubbing long fingers over his chin. He poked the fire and added a log, as Emlyn entered bearing a tea tray.
'Oh, hot tea...lovely!' Athena rubbed her hands. 'So! Will you be staying on a while here, then?'
'We...aren't really sure, as yet,' Emlyn began hesitantly. 'It was a rather impetuous trip, this.'
'"Impetuous", eh?' Athena sipped her tea, gazing at Daryl. 'That describes you to a "T".'
'I'm not all that bad!' Daryl looked at her, as though truly pained.
Emlyn smiled at him. 'No, Daryl, you really are not! So don't worry about it!'
'Worry about, what? I'm missing something here!' Athena leaned back, arms behind her head.
Emlyn decided that perhaps it was time for a bit of disclosure.
'I don't think that you miss much, Athena luv.'
That good lady regarded Em. 'Do tell, then? There is something that has Daryl worried as a turkey on Thanksgiving -- you can't hide it, you know...' she added, shooting him an inquiring look.
Daryl stared off into space, silent.
'Perhaps...it has something to do with...your rather, long friend, whom you met with just now, out in the birch forest,' Em decided to leap in head-first.
Athena threw back her head and laughed heartily. 'My "long friend", indeed!' She smiled with narrow cat's eyes at Em.
'...Is someone rather close to YOU, I think, Emlyn!'
'Oohhh...' A piteous soft groan escaped from Daryl, head now in his arms upon the mantle piece.
Emlyn sighed, regarding Athena. 'Daryl is somewhat concerned about Axelis, my father, just now.'
'I see-ee...' Athena's eyes flickered over the distraught Daryl, who now began pacing once more. He stopped when he reached the walnut bar.
'Ah. Worried about your girlfriend's father, is it?' Athena threw at him over her shoulder, winking at Em.
Emlyn merely thought, Oh, that's not but the half of it...
Daryl sighed and regarded his decanters. Armagnac, or cognac?
A Courvoisier sort of evening coming on, he decided, grasping the cut glass crystal.
'Anyone care to join me?'
Athena grinned at Emlyn, who was torn betwixt grinning back at her, and enjoying Daryl's misery, or showing genuine concern over poor Diego's plight.
'Perhaps a wee dram, Daryl, merci...'
'I'll pass,' Athena sat forward, pouring more tea. 'I may go for a midnight ride, later tonight.'
'Surely not with the horses!' Daryl handed Emlyn her snifter.
Athena smiled languidly, sipping her tea. 'Oh, no. Horses would not be involved at all. Not tonight. It's not that sort of ride.'
Em took a sip of encouraging brandy. 'How do you know Axelis, Athena? I only recently met the man myself a year or so ago,' she admitted reluctantly.
Athena was grinning no longer. 'Yes, he told me. I'm sorry you didn't know sooner...he wanted to tell you from the beginning, you know. It wasn't easy for him to keep his silence all this while.'
'You have known Axelis long?' Daryl turned to her accusingly.
'I have known him oh, not all that long. I came upon him and his ship, one winter much like this...a few years ago,' Athena began, her eyes staring out into nothingness as she recalled a personal mindscape.
'...It was like nothing I'd ever seen in real life, you know. Out there, by the frozen lake...I came through the evergreen wood and what I saw there, I simply had no words for.
'That silver ship! Big as a house, as YOUR house, Daryl!' She glanced his way, 'Just sitting there, silent...no birds, no wind, nothing; as though the world had all the noise sucked out of it. But, I wasn't frightened. Intrigued. So sleek, and beautiful, and not at all part of the natural world.'
Emlyn and Daryl both listened, rapt, recalling their own sighting of Axelis' ship.
'So!' Athena poured more tea, 'I walked up to the thing. And, I was NOT expecting anyone to be...home. But, there was.'
She held her cup before her, looking down into her tea. 'A
sortof opening appeared and a ramp to the ground. A man was framed in the doorway. A tall, fair man. I thought I was seeing the return of King Arthur or suchlike...' Athena's lips ghosted a smile. 'Well, I'd hoped, you know.'
Em smiled in return.
'Well, long story short, that was how we met. And, he has been stopping by, on occasion, ever since.' Athena ran a hand through her hair, settling against the sofa's back once more.
'And, that's really all there is to it.'
Daryl was rubbing his forehead by the fire. He didn't look at Athena or at anyone as he commented:
'You...have been meeting with an Ultradimensional 7 foot tall being, most likely over a hundred years old or twice that, who not only is Emlyn's and Anara's father, but commands a millennium-old Pleiadian war ship? And, you think it is of no consequence whatsoever? Hardly worth mentioning?'
Emlyn took objection, 'It IS her own personal business, Daryl...'
'Yes, Daryl, luv...it is,' Athena added, '...And I had always valued our friendship, for many things, not the least of which, that we each do mind our own business and not poke noses into one anothers personal lives...yes?'
Daryl's fingers drummed upon the mantle.
Athena sighed, soft and short. She stood. 'Perhaps I shall take a wee shot of firewater...'
'Courvoisier is NOT firewater...Really!' Daryl did his best Dorian Grey-cum-Jack Benny.
A sideways smile slid upon Athena's features as she glanced at Em briefly, picked up the decanter and poured an amber stream for herself and freshened Em's glass.
She offered it to Daryl then, who deigned to acknowledge her at last and nodded.
Athena topped him off, and let her eyes range over him.
'I, for one, think it's fine that you know one another!' Emlyn
declared.
Athena set the decanter upon the tea table and resumed her seat upon the sofa, tucking her long legs beneath her as she turned to Em.
'I'm glad. He's a fine man, your father. He would have spent more time with you, if he but could.'
'There has been, there have been...some developments, since we last shared a cup between us,' Daryl had decided to return to the living, and address the company suddenly.
What could this all be about, Em wondered, anxious now. We'd just agreed not to delve too deeply into one anothers lives...Athena need not know...
Em twisted the emerald ring upon her left hand. She'd been in such a hurry, leaving the Bay Area for Massachusetts...she had forgotten to take it off. Should she, in fact? Where was Daryl heading now? Where were they both heading? They'd hardly had a chance to speak together since the Solstice...
'Yess...' Daryl sauntered over to his wingchair, taking a seat by the fire, brandy at the ready...this discussion would require some lubrication.
'Upon the Solstice, Emlyn and I found ourselves in Sonora once more. Only we were our gypsy selves; she, Josephina, at 17, and I, Diego, at 20.'
Athena gave him all her attention, but said nothing.
Daryl continued, 'Naturally, chaos ensued...kidnappings, a volcano blew, and I was staked upon a pyramid as a sacrifice to the elder gods. Thanks to Em, or Josephina and friends, I was rescued, as you see.
'However, upon our return, we found ourselves embroiled in something perhaps even stranger...' He flicked a glance Emlyn's direction, 'We 'accidentally' ran into a timewalking Condomble practitioner, who had dealings not only with my antiques contact in the City, but also with friends of Emlyn...and, I believe now, that Axelis may not be Em's only paterfamilias still hovering about.'
'WHAT?!' Em sat up. 'What exactly are you suggesting, Daryl?'
Her innards felt frozen suddenly.
Daryl leaned forward, 'I'm sorry, Em, but, it seems to point to that. I believe that your father, the mundane one...is still lost in a timewarp somehow. I have suspected this as far back as when I appeared to you in the flames at Crowley Place. You had seen a vision of your father in the flames then as well, you recall?'
Emlyn had. It had given her quite a fright at the time. She frowned, and twisted the ring on her finger.
'What should we do? What CAN we do, anything?'
Daryl sighed and took a deep pull from his glass. 'I...haven't been able to think of anything. Or I'd have tried to free him long ago.'
'I don't suppose, Jack...' Em didn't wish to think of Jack. Or her father...the other one.
Daryl stared at the fire. 'Jack never thought it a good idea to even try, Em. While it was through your father's notes, as well as Dr. Stein's, that we were able to develop modern Time Travel, many lasting mistakes were engendered when they had first loosened such rough magic. Some with such long-lasting pernicious malignancy...' He ran both hands through his hair in frustration.
'Well, we all agreed to abide with the decision not to, ah,
attempt a rescue.'
'You agreed...?' Em frowned.
'Yes. Jack, Aleister and I...and others as well.' Daryl hoped she would not inquire further.
'Well...' Em sighed, at last, 'I have to concur. I am certainly not anxious to see him again. Why are you thinking of this now, then?'
'Just a hunch,' Daryl demurred. 'Perhaps it was having Axelis here now, after all this time...' He set his empty glass before him. 'I, don't know...'
'--You had better trust your hunches,' came a voice from the hallway. A familiar voice. One not heard in seeming ages...
All stood as they heard him, and, to their unbelieving eyes,
appearing out of the hallway's gloom into the flickering firelight of the parlor, suddenly loomed the tall and commanding figure of their former benefactor...
'-- Mr. Yeats!' Emlyn exclaimed with gleeful relief.
'As you see...' Yeats, big as life and twice as improbable, deigned to crack a soft smile as he removed his long coat.
'Care to share your hearthside with an old friend?'
. . . .
WATCH AND LISTEN!
"TROIKA" Sergei Prokofiev
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