<html> <body> Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold By Charles Matthias The wind and snow battered the donkey with a chill that numbed his hands and ears, and yet, the sight of Charles and Baerle pressed so close together filled with an anger so powerful that heat sluiced from his body like sheets of bark torn from a tree. He contemplated beating his head against the mountain as if it were a bell. Even the hardest of rock could be shattered with the tolling of a bell. Charles may have made himself stone, but James could make his body crack into a million shards. How sweet it would be if the rat's body would so shatter, each piece falling into the abyss below to sink into the Sea. Maybe one day he could find a few pieces, smoothed by the water, and he skip them. He'd probably manage a dozen skips with little stones made from the Sondecki. James closed his eyes and ground his teeth together, unable to stand seeing the rat's body not fall to pieces as it pressed against his opossum. Yet closing his eyes brought no relief. For while the mountain, the snow, and the storm all vanished, he could see nevertheless. Stretching before him behind his eyelids was that endless room with smooth floor, distant walls, and vaulted ceiling lost in darkness and crowned with a bell so large that it could not be glimpsed all at once. Perhaps it was impossible even to glimpse every part of the bell no matter how long one lived. James's heart leaped with exaltation. Tolling. A passionate light such for his spirit was fit. As if summoned by the bell, before him stood Baerle, her svelte body clothed only in her soft gray and white fur. James stretched out his arms toward her as her snout lifted, gentle eyes rising to meet his gaze. He stepped forward, gasping deep in his chest. And yet that spirit knew – not in the hour of its own fervor – what had o'er it power. The massive carillon throbbed and made every sinew in his body tremble and pause. Between him and Baerle stood a familiar rat. Balked, James could only stare in horror as the rat slid his arms through Baerle's, resting his head against her chest, tongue slipping forth from between long incisors to tease her breasts. A light giggle escaped her throat as she dangled one arm, and gently stroked the back of his soft, saucer-shaped ears with her slender fingers. Her snout lowered and short whiskers brushed across the top of the rat's head in a warm kiss. James screamed his rage, but in the echoing knell he could hear nothing of his own voice. He took another step, but felt something pull backward on his tail. He turned, and saw Angus there, one meaty paw wrapped around the end of his tail, his thumb claw working through the black tuft as if it were a daisy he were plucking petals from. Thy souls halt find itself alone. Forevermore! James shook his head, putting both hands on his ears as he shouted, “Nay! Nevermore! Nevermore!” He gasped and longed for Baerle whose paws were slipping down the rat's arms and equally bare chest. The words echoed forth from his throat as if they had been uttered by the bell itself. “How many memories of what radiant hours at sight of thee and thine at once awake!” How many scenes of what departed bliss! How many thoughts of what entombed hopes! No more! The rat and opossum, their bodies entwining, began to move away from him, until he could see a bower of sweet willows and pristine golden air and smell the fragrance of honeysuckle and strawberries. There in they, on soft loam that stretched up from the featureless floor, laid down on atop the other, hidden behind the screen of small leaves and their branches that cascaded from the willow like a spider's net. James struggled to reach out for them, but Angus's grip on his tail was impossible to break. Tolling. Tolling. Bells. James shrieked at the immanence above him, begging with tears in his enraged eyes. Bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells. James crumpled to his knees and found his gaze fixed upon the willow and the lovers within. His heart ached and he beat his hands against the ground, wishing that he could feel the bell in his palm. Not one bell he knew, but all nine that had once hung in Marzac. With them he would ring out shatter his enemies. And when he was finished... O hyacinthine! Thy memory no more! …none would ever remember the rat! And then, James opened his eyes and blinked as he saw Charles and Baerle stepping apart on the ledge. The biting wind had fallen into a soft breeze, and the billows of snow pouring out of the sky had settled into a gentle caress of flakes. The storm had come to its end. “Are you two okay?” Angus asked. “We're fine,” Charles called back as he brushed snow off of his shoulders. “The mountain was very understanding.” Baerle shuddered and flicked her ears from side to side to free them from snow. She smiled briefly at both Angus and James and then turned to the west. “Let's get out of here.” She wasted not time in starting down the path toward the valley. Charles followed quickly after her, and James bolted forward so quickly that he almost yanked the badger off his feet. “Not quite so fast there, James!” James grunted and wondered if he could manage two accidents. ---------- The sky was beginning to darken as the sun reached the Dragon mountains in the western sky by the time Jessica had finally managed to gather everything she would need for her casting. Since Burris never performed ritual spells, he had no chalk or anything else with which she could draw lines. She had been forced to substitute fuller's bleach and cooking flour, but the physical composition of the lines was not vital; it meant only that she would need to be more careful in her drawings. The Avery twins were good little gentlemen and volunteered to carry the sacks for her to Berchem's burrow that late afternoon. She complimented them and as Lady Avery predicted, both of the squirrel's became even more enthusiastic and attentive to their newfound duty. Not only did they carry the bags, but they volunteered to help her pour them and keep the lines pristine. Just seeing these two made her wonder what Weyden and her children would be like. The skunk was in obvious pain when she arrived with both Burris and Jo in tow to help. The woodpecker situated himself in the corner next to Berchem's fletching gear, while the vixen busied herself over the hearth preparing more of her strongest broth. The scent of cinnamon was strong and made Jessica blink a few times as it tickled her tongue, but after a moment she found she could ignore it easily enough. Berchem lay on the pallet with one paw gripping his head fur, muscles standing out along his neck and cheeks. He nodded briefly when Jessica asked if he could still hear her, but his jaws were clamped tight. His quilt had claw marks furrowed through it where he'd dug into the fabric. With his other paw he kept this pressed close to his chest and waist. His tail lashed against the wall in a steady rhythm. Jessica turned to the gray squirrels whose worried eyes stared at the skunk. “Okay, you two, set the bags there, and get the floor clear. I need everything out of the way for this spell.” They hurried, claws clicking on the wood as they set the bags down and then ran to the lamp and small table, pushing them against the wall near the hearth and fletching equipment. Burris had to yank back one foot to keep it from being squashed beneath the table. They returned for his clothes chest, and then looked at the hawk with wide eyes. Darien asked, “What should we do now, Jessica?” “I'm going to need Berchem in the middle of the room,” Jessica said. She glanced at the vixen who nodded. “I'll have him up in a minute, this batch should ease his pain some.” Despite the optimism in her words, the healer's voice betrayed her fears. Time was growing short for the skunk. “We can move him,” came the voice of Lord Avery from the top of the stairs. Following him down was Alldis the deer. The buck had a fierce scowl on his muzzle, but he did manage to give Jessica an odd smirk as he passed. “Thank you both,” Jessica said as she hopped out of the way. Squirrel and deer grabbed the skunk from either end, and with a heave, hoisted his quivering body out of bed and placed him down in the center of the floor. His long tail continued to lash back and forth. She sighed, “Could somebody hold that down for a moment?” Lord Avery, who'd carried his legs, knelt down and grasped the skunk's tail between his paws and chittered in surprise as he struggled to keep it still. Jessica bent over the squirrel's shoulder and drew a sigil with one of her wing claws. It flared with a blue light before sinking down past the wide-eyed squirrel to rest on the skunk's erratic tail. The tip of his tail fixed itself against the floor while the rest of it struggled to yank it back up. “That should do it for now. Darien! Christopher! Time to make some lines.” “We'll be at the top of the stairs if you need us,” Lord Avery said, before giving his two boys a meaningful glance. They nodded obediently to their father, then picked up the bags of white powder and stood on the other side of the skunk. “Where do you want these?” Darien asked. “We're going to make a circle around Berchem here. Now pour like I showed you.” Jessica directed the two boys and helped them pour the powder in a smooth and even line. Despite how jittery these normally were, they managed not to spill anything or brush out the lines with their tails behind them. Jessica did have to make corrections with her wing claws, but overall she was pleased with how well they'd done. “Now,” she told them with a squawk, “we're going to create two more circles outside this one.” And as Burris watched and Jo brewed, they did just that. As they were finishing up the third circle in the casting, the vixen carried her broth in the pot very carefully, stepping over the lines without breaking any of them, before crouching beside the skunk's head, tail tucked between her legs to keep it from wagging and disturbing the powder, and feeding him the broth. By the time she managed to coax his muzzle open, Jessica was congratulating the two squirrels on a job well done. “That looks excellent! Now those bags look light enough for me to finish the rest. I want you two to go watch with your father. It's going to be too dangerous to stay in here.” “Aye, Mistress Jessica!” they intoned with a faint hint of disappointment in their voices. What boy wouldn't want to see something dangerous? But leave they did, and once they were gone, the hawk turned to the vixen and said, “You may want to stay in case the spell causes him more pain. But you'll need to stay outside the circles.” “I know. Just let me finish giving him his broth.” By the time the skunk had finished drinking, Burris had provided a soft warm glow to the room from the surface of the wood. It was a very different sort of illumination than a trio of witchlights, and to Jessica's chagrin, it seemed to do a better job of showing her the entire spell. Jessica cradled the bag of fuller's bleach and began to trace out runes between each concentric circle. Slate would have made a better floor, but Burris's tree floors were very smooth and he'd be sure that the bleach would bring it no harm. She'd need to wash her claws though when the spell was done. Berchem curled into a fetal position inside the inner circle, eyes closed but no longer as strained. His tail remained fixed to the floor. Jessica watched him with one eye as she moved around him first through the outer circle, and then after exhausting the bleach, through the middle circle with the flour. Her back and wings were sore by the time she'd finished spreading the white lines, but at least they had been drawn. This Symphony was designed to open up the skunk's mind and to let Jessica see within. She would not be able to see his thoughts, but only what he saw. After finishing the lines, she set both bags down at the foot of the steps, then moved into position between the outer and middle circles. She breathed a few words, tongue rasping against her beak, and the powder began to slowly shimmer a faint green hue. The glow converged to the single symbol she had drawn inside the innermost circle near to the skunk's head. An oculus, and there she gazed, as the wood between each of the lines of power wavered, shifting and blending in hue with red, blue, yellow, and a many more colors than she could name. It glistened like a soap bubble in flickering candlelight for several seconds before resolving into a miniature replica of Berchem's burrow. Only this one shifted back and forth as if she were seeing through the skunk's eyes. And in truth she was. Her will sped the image backward, passing through the hours of wakefulness, the fitful attempts to sleep, the grinding of eyelids as the pain became too great, and finally, she came to that night. Her breath was ragged and before her the skunk quivered on the ground like an animal struck by wagon wheels. But the image was clear; she watched through Berchem's eyes as he walked home through the Glen Commons one last time. None of the others could see what she did in the oculus, but she could feel their presence around her. Burris kept his wings folded behind his back with his beak open and his tongue whispering soft incantations to help keep the Symphony stable. Jo rubbed her paws together nervously as she watched Berchem suffer on the floor, casting frequent glances at Jessica in wonder. The skunk kept his arms and knees against his chest as his snout wrinkled in ever growing agony. And through the vision of memory Jessica saw the skunk descend into his home, begin to put away his things, only to turn back toward the stairs. She could not hear anything but her eyes lost no detail. When the door opened up, she felt her heart catch, knowing full well that whoever entered would be their assailant. And yet, all that seemed to come down into the room was shadow. Jessica felt her body shake and it took all of her concentration and will to keep her gaze fixed upon the oculus and her wings behind her back. How desperately she wanted to spread those wings and fly away from the room and a nameless horror that reached up out of that oculus like the terrible presence in the Imbervand had once reached for her. Reached and nearly caught her. This time, the darkness that descended the steps came in the shape of a man, or at least it seemed that it was man-shaped. There was no way to tell what sort of Keeper it might be, if indeed it was a Keeper. After what must have been a brief conversation, the shadow swung its arm, and Berchem crumpled to the ground, vision blurring in and out. Jessica swallowed, squawking with a fear that she could not control. Berchem's arm came forward and wrapped around the shadow's neck, and bent them back over the steps. But this sudden turn of fortunes lasted only a handful of seconds before the skunk's vision blurred again and he was reduced back to the floor, the shadow towering higher and higher over him like a monolith of night as every mote of vision scattered by some unseen force. And then everything was swallowed by the night. The spell flared around her in a violent golden light and then vanished. Jessica screamed and toppled over, the world spinning in a vomiting profusion of color. ---------- What they thought had been the storm's end proved only to be a brief reprieve. After descending into the valley, they encountered one more talisman, before the biting wind and snow returned with a renewed ferocity. They were forced to take shelter in a nearby cave that bore the faint scent of bears and after making sure that there were no bears hidden within, they made their camp and tried to get warm again. And within the deepening gloom of night, they rested and tried to recover both strength and breath. James glowered at the storm. It had given him so much hope but had offered him no chances to strike. And now, even as they hid, it ebbed, its howl rendered no more potent than a puppy's whine. What a waste. “The storm seems to be dying,” he said down to Angus, who was warming his paws by the fire. “Should we go back out? Charles and I could scout around.” “Nay,” Angus replied with a shake of his head. “I trust you both, but night's already fallen. It's safer to wait until morning.” “I could always move through the mountains,” Charles offered.” Angus offered him an incredulous look. “Can you bring the paste with you?” The rat's muzzle scrunched into a foul moue. “Nay. Very well. It's probably better I don't risk it anyway. Last time I tried that one of the mountains tried to keep me prisoner.” “One of the mountains?” Baerle asked with open-faced wonder. “Keep you prisoner?” “I suppose I'm up to telling the tale.” “In a moment,” Angus grunted and shifted on his haunches. He rubbed his paws together, and then stroked his claws through the fur on the back of either hand. “We should be much further along. There's one more talisman here in the Valley, and then we reach the next mountain. It has paths alone both flanks, and talisman on both flanks. If the weather is good, we can save half a day's journey by splitting in pairs and taking either flank.” “Is that wise?” Charles asked with a frown. He held a half-gnawed chewstick in one paw and lifted it to his teeth, but stopped just short to add, “Storms come quickly in the mountains. We could be surprised again, and it's much more dangerous for two than for four.” “I know, and if there is any hint of cloud in the sky, we won't risk it.” The badger stretched his arms and then leaned back from the fire, casting a glance at opossum, rat, and then to the donkey. His expression was determined despite his weary countenance. “But if the sky is clear, I think we should take the chance.” If they were split, then it didn't matter who James was paired with. He smiled and nodded his head vigorously. “I concur. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go home. Let's split up in pairs tomorrow as we go around the mountain.” Charles turned to the donkey with an uncertain, but wavering expression. “Are you sure, James? We never split up in the Barrier Range.” “We should be okay here,” James replied with a warm smile. “These mountains aren't as dangerous as the Barrier was.” The rat chewed on his stick for several seconds before finally sighing and nodding. “Baerle? What do you think?” The opossum stretched out her legs and leaned a little closer to the fire. “A little worried, but I think we'll be okay.” “If the weather is good,” the rat said after another few seconds gnawing wood chips, “then we should take the chance. I don't like it though. I'll be very happy when we meet up on the other side.” “It's decided then,” Angus said with a heavy sigh. “Now let's get something to eat and try to get some sleep.” James nodded , heart eager, and his mind filled with prayers and hopes that the weather would be clear in the morning. He ran his hand over the bottom of his pack and felt the outline of his bell. It trembled beneath his touch, and with each vibration he could hear the storm coughing and struggling to continue. His lips kisses themselves as he heard the sweet tolling echoing beneath the cry of the wind. The sky would be clear. His bell would see to that. Tomorrow that sky would be clear. Tomorrow he could kill Charles and make Baerle his at long last. How well he would sleep tonight! ---------- Jessica wasn't sure what time it was, but it must have been very late indeed to judge by the grogginess in the doe reclining in a chair by the door. The hawk was laying on a bed of pillows in a small room in what she recognized as the Mountain Hearth Inn. As she rose and looked around, the doe stirred and, blinked her large eyes, and then asked in a worried voice, “Jessica! Are you feeling okay? You just passed out when the spell...” “I passed out?” She rubbed one wing across the top of her head, the long feathers brushing near to her nostrils, as she slowly put her talons beneath her as carefully as she could. “is everyone else okay?” The doe Erica grimaced and nodded a few times before shaking her head. “Berchem couldn't hear any one again. Jo managed to sooth his pain some, but, it's very bad. Are you okay?” Jessica nodded after a brief dizzy spell. “How long was I unconscious?” “It's been eight candlemarks,” Erica replied. “Do you want me to fetch Burris or Lord Avery?” “Nay, I think I need lie down again and sleep. Just help Berchem get through the night. I will be there at first light. I know what I need to do.” Nervous, Erica folded her hoof-like hands over one another. “What did you see?” “I couldn't see the attacker, but it felt like Marzac.” She shook her head. “I don't know who that is.” “Lord Avery should know.” “I will tell him. But... what are you going to do?” Jessica lowered herself back down to the pillows, exhaustion washing over her and pulling her further and further into the cushioned bed. “I have to hear what the ringing sounds like. It's the only way to see through this spell.” Erica frowned, but nodded and then turned to the door. “I'll go tell them. Rest well, Lady Jessica.” The hawk nodded and waited until the doe blew out the lantern before laying her body back down on the pillows. She was asleep a few seconds later. The last thought that past threw her mind was of the hyacinth and its power. She was going to need it. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias !DSPAM:4e95fd048891804284693! </body> </html>