FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

• The Sparks of an Ancient Light - Chapter 4

The deck of the merchant freighter pitched and rolled beneath Ibiza Pushpath's feet. The dragon felt strangely nauseous, despite knowing it was all an illusion. She glanced back at the forth dimensional doorway she'd stepped through, 'Do I really want to meet this animal? Is this what I should be doing?' She gazed out over the railing at the dark and churning ocean, then back to the archway as it dissolved away. 'I suppose it's too late, now.'

Ibiza had no idea what the date was. Obviously, it was sometime in the near past based upon the ship's modern construction, though this world's periods of technological advancement were odd, and difficult to date. Antiquated rotary telephones from two hundred years ago often exist side by side with digital computer devices. 'Sam drives a motor vehicle powered by steam,' Ibiza thought, 'Steam technology was invented how long ago?'

She found her way to the wheel house and noted a calendar tacked up above the navigation station. The day after tomorrow would be September 1st, of the year 1790. 'What is the current year? I don't have any point of reckoning.'

Ibiza began to wonder if visits to the past might be unwise, and be more of a hinderance than a help in her understanding of this world. 'Oh, the toy,' Ibiza slipped off her backpack and withdrew the little snail toy. She inspected the manufacturing tag affixed to its belly. "Twenty two fifty two," she murmured, "This toy was manufactured four hundred and sixty two years after this voyage sailed," she glanced around, "How old is this Rosemary? How long do animals live?"

Placing the toy back in her bag, the dragon left the wheel house and moved along a narrow walkway toward the front of the ship. She glanced over the side and wondered what would happen if she fell into the churning water. 'I'm not really here, right? I mean, what would happen?'

Ahead, standing up near the prow was a tall white figure. Ibiza froze, as the memory of her arrival flashed through her mind. 'Rosemary,' she breathed. The little dragon edged closer to the equine mare. In a way, this horse resembled the white figure who donated to Ibiza an imprint of her mind, but Ibiza could not reconcile this equine as being that mare. Rosemary squinted her black eyes to focus her strange infrared vision. The animal before her was baffling. She was tall, standing a tad over two meters. Her pale-white fur stood out in stark contrast to the gloomy grey rain curtain surrounding the vessel. The mare turned her head and looked directly at her, as if she were suddenly aware of Ibiza's presence. The dragon panicked, until she realized the mare looked not at her, but a crew member who shuffled down a nearby ladder well.

'I cannot do this,' Ibiza breathed, 'I can't.'

Ibiza returned to the farmhouse, and with a sigh, departed the empty residence and took wing upon the planet's magnetic fields. 'Mayalee, I need your help.'

The thought of Mayalee's touch made her heart flutter. 'But, also the grey stallion. I would like to see him again.' One thought leading to another, the dragon agonized over the stranger's identity. She gasped when she realized her attitude was slightly skewing down; noted the ground below rushing to meet her. 'Flying is nerve-wracking!' At length, Ibiza returned to Sam and Mayalee's residence. Though the day was bright and cheery, the sun's light was dim and muted within the confines of the spirit world. Ibiza attempted to knock upon the door, but her paw passed through it, so she simply entered the home. Inside, there was no sign of anyone. Ibiza felt a sharp pang of loneliness as she stepped from Nidavellir, "Hello?"

"Ibby?!" Came Mayalee voice. Ibiza rushed to the back bedroom and fell upon the bed where the mouse lay. "Oh! Ibiza!" Mayalee cried, "Are you alright?"

"I missed you so!" The dragon peeped, "I was so lonely!" The mouse hugged the dragon's neck and held her close. "Sweetie, it's alright."

She kept the dragon close for as long as she needed, until Ibiza leaned back on her tail. "Thank you." "What's this?" Mayalee asked, noting the child's backpack. "Oh," Ibiza chimed, removing the bag. She unzipped it and retrieved Mayalee's metal brooch. "Oh!" The mouse gasped, "Where did you find it?" "You dropped it, out in the field."

Mayalee kissed the charm, then patted the dragon. "What else did you find out there?" "Uh, there was a strange horse. He taught me to fly."

"Grey robes? With a walking staff?" Mayalee asked. "Uh, yeah! How did you know?"

"Herald saw him," Mayalee said, her tone oddly hushed, "He believes the horse is actually the blue-eyed dragon." Ibiza shook her head, "No, they are different personages. The horse is clearly male, whilst the dragon is female."

"Herald feels their eyes are identical, and so they must be the same entity." Ibiza cupped her paw beneath her chin, as if lost in thought. "Curious, I thought them different entities." She sighed, "I am very confused."

Mayalee smiled, "Want some breakfast?" The dragon's belly roared. "I'll take that as a yes," she chortled; rolled from the bed. "Where is Sam? And Herald?" Mayalee nervously slipped her pants on, "Herald has gone missing, Sam is out looking for him."

"Missing?" Ibiza breathed, "Uh, is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, everything is alright. Herald is just a little overwhelmed after what happened at the hospital." "Uh, what happened?" Ibiza peeped. Mayalee told her of Death's ascension to consciousness. "What does that mean?" Ibiza asked, "Do I have a sister, now?"

This question stunned Mayalee, "Uh, I don't know, Ibby."

"I went to the past, I saw Rosemary Barter." "Oh?" Ibiza nodded, "I could not bring myself to explore her memory," she bowed her head, "I felt afraid."

"Rosemary is not for the faint of heart," Mayalee replied, then skipped to the kitchen to prepare a meal. "Why? Why is she not faint for anyone?" Mayalee smiled, "No, I just mean she is very intense, and if you are feeling anxious, Rosemary can be very hard to take."

"Is that why you don't like her?" Mayalee cocked her head, "Uh, I wouldn't say I dislike her, it's just.. yeah," she sighed, "Maybe I don't like her."

Ibiza absently nodded. Mayalee went to her, "Ibby, if you really have an imprint of her mind, I may have to rethink why I feel the way I do." She smiled, "I suppose my feelings are clouded by Kromhaut's own feelings toward Rosemary."

"So, he doesn't like her? Why?" "It's a long story." Mayalee began, but chortled as she was about to receive a jab from the dragon. "How long do animals live?" Ibiza suddenly asked. "Oh, I don't know," Mayalee replied, somewhat caught off guard. "Lizard folk can live well into their seventeenth decade, while most other animals live about a century."

"In my voyage back, I saw a calendar, it said the date was 1790. That's a long time ago, and yet Rosemary was there. Is she immortal, like you?"

The mouse awkwardly nodded, "Yes."

"So, Kromhaut keeps her alive beyond her years, like he prolongs your life?" "Uh, I don't know if it's a similar thing, I mean, not really."

Ibiza narrowed her eyes, "Wait, she stood within the cusp of the spirit world, and yet she was alive. Is that normal?" Mayalee offered a pained smile, "Uh, no."

"Why is Rosemary in the spirit world?" "Because she is being punished, Ibiza." The dragon's eyes widened, "What?"

"Rosemary is being punished for many serious crimes. Kromhaut placed her in the spirit world to serve out her sentence." Ibiza snorted. Mayalee winced at her undisguised disgust. "I thought you said you serve as Kromhaut's conscience?" "I do," Mayalee began, but the dragon interrupted her, "Then do better!" She stalked off to the parlor, leaving Mayalee holding a cooking pan. The mouse sighed, and then set about making toasted cheese sandwiches. Within her mind, Kromhaut was conspicuously quiet. "She's right, you know."

Kromhaut offered no indication that he'd heard her as Mayalee continued, "It's not right to use Nidavellir as a jail cell. It's cruel."

'Allowing Rosemary to escape justice was not an option.' "But, is torture justice?" 'I do not wish to debate this with you, Mayalee.'

"And this is why things are the way they are," Mayalee murmured, "There's no real communication between us. I offer my opinion, and you ignore it. You could just dismiss me and let me pass on."

Samuel pushed his way through the parlor door. "Sam!" Ibiza cried. "Oh! Hey!" He chimed. Ibiza rushed to him, but paused as his thoughts drifted to her. "Oh," she peeped. Sam tightened his jaw, "I see you can read us, now."

"Uh, yeah. Your Kromhaut cocooned my mind, and kept me from seeing others. But I have removed his influence from my person." Mayalee narrowed her eyes, 'Your Kromhaut,' she noted, 'Already, she considers herself separate.'

"You saw the grey horse too, hm?" Sam noted. Ibiza nodded, "I'm really confused, and I need your help to figure this out."

Now seated at the kitchen table, the companions ate their sandwiches and mulled the appearance of the mysterious stallion. "I can move around in time," Ibiza murmured, "But, I can't interact with anyone. It's like I'm invisible," she glanced at the television, "Like I'm watching the telly."

"But this dragon you met in the forth dimension," Mayalee said, "She obviously interacted with you. If she's a time traveler, she's on a whole other level."

"She's an eleventh dimensional traveler," Sam said, though it was not Sam who'd spoke, but his spiritual partner, Ariadne. "That is why her time was limited, and she was forced to leave. The amount of power required to interact with a past or future moment is gargantuan, and beyond any of us." He quickly added; "On this world."

"So, why are they coming back to talk to me? And what are they doing to my sister?"

Sam leaned back, "Removing Death from your body was only the first step," Ariadne said, "You both require additional attention before you are rendered safe."

"You said you were becoming very angry when you couldn't fly," Mayalee noted, "And so the stallion appeared to calm you down. I'd wager we need to follow suit and be vigilant of your temper."

"I don't have a temper," Ibiza chuffed. Sam smiled, "Anyway, these travelers are obviously going to continue popping in, and tinkering with things." "Why haven't they contacted us?" Mayalee asked. Sam glanced at Ibiza, "They have." 'Oh,' Mayalee thought, 'There's no reason to contact me, or Sam, because we're not important.' Sam glanced at her, "I wouldn't take it so hard, if their time during these visits is limited, they're going to do what they need to do and get out before their link collapses."

Mayalee frowned, "It still sucks." Ibiza patted her, "I think you're important. Who else is going to make sandwiches?" Sam grimly laughed as he rubbed his eyes, "So, now that we're living in a time-travel experiment, we have to ask ourselves how many times we've sat here and had this conversation."

Ibiza became thoughtful, "You mean, if Hera and the grey stallion should fail in making me and my sister better? They'd have to come back and try again? And maybe again and again?" Mayalee snapped her fingers, "Allomere! He's the best psychologist on the continent!" She glanced at Ibby, "If she needs help to mold her mind into something positive, then bringing Allomere into our company makes even more sense!"

Now Ibiza was able to see Mayalee's memories, and know who Allomere was. After a quick glance, she curled her lip. "Oh, my, is sexual activity part of molding someone? Because I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Sam smirked at her, "You were born last week, no sex for you." Mayalee tapped her fingers on the table, "I want you to call Allomere tonight, Sam. We need to get him over here." "How are we going to convince him that we're supernatural animals that need his help-" Sam began, but both animals paused to glance at Ibiza. "Oh, right."

"Our circumstance is not so dire," Ibiza smirked, "I believe I can control myself until the hawk can examine me."

And so the couple began their negotiations with Kromhaut. Ibiza excused herself, then wandered amongst the boxes and bundles of Sam and Mayalee's belongings. She moved down the hall to poke her head into the couple's room. On a shelf just above a dressing table was a silver music box, featuring a little mouse figurine that presumably danced when activated. Ibiza caught a flash of vision, and the image of a leopard dressed in white filled her mind's eye. The leopard held out the music box, and Mayalee's hands came into view; graciously took the gift. Ibiza blinked to clear her head.

"I don't know if being forced to view the backstory of every single thing is really that much of an asset." "Hmm?" Came Mayalee's voice, "Did you need something?"

"Oh, I was looking at your music box. Who was the leopard that gave it to you?" "Oh! That was the Sultan of Ruthenia!" Ibiza looked back at the music box, "Whatever did you do to garner the notice of a national ruler?"

Mayalee appeared at the end of the hall, "I may have helped prevent an assassination attempt." Ibiza narrowed her eyes at the mouse, then reeled as an image of Mayalee leaping in front of the leopard dazzled her eyes. There was a loud noise, then pandemonium. Through the chaos, the sultan looked down upon the mouse; noted a large hole in Mayalee's tunic. He clasped his hand over her, "You've been shot!"

The mouse offered him a comforting nudge, "Come, there could be more assassins, we should get you indoors."

In the hall, Ibiza approached Mayalee. She unfastened the buttons of Mayalee's dress as the mouse giggled, "Ibby, what are you doing?" The dragon pulled her dress aside to inspect her abdomen. "There's no mark, the shot left no mark upon you."

"I can't be harmed," Mayalee replied, "It's a side-effect of my contact with Kromhaut." Ibiza fastened the buttons, then smoothed her dress. "You are like a superhero."

"Heh, something like that." Ibiza was impressed, "What magic can you do?" "Oh, Sam and I can't do any real magic, we can only read minds and do a few other things. Not getting hurt is one of them."

"If you would become my familiars, I would endow you with magical powers." Ibiza heard herself say. The dragon clapped her paw over her mouth as Sam and Mayalee became shocked. "Oh, I'm sorry, I hope that wasn't inappropriate."

"It was," Sam said, "I hope you won't say anything like that again." Ibiza bowed and apologized, as Mayalee became thoughtful. "That is something Rosemary would have said." She patted the dragon, "We're going to continue our meeting, so until then, you're welcome to lay down on our bed."

"Thank you, and I'm sorry." Ibiza said. Still somewhat shocked, Mayalee waved her hand at the dragon as Kromhaut's voice doubtless rang in her ears. Crestfallen, extremely angry with herself, Ibiza flopped onto the couple's bed, but she was to find no rest. She thought of the white mare, and the oddity of visiting her. 'Will some future version of myself come to visit me? In this time? Will they opine on how sad I seem?' Tossing and turning, Ibiza wondered if Hera might be waiting in the forth dimensional hall. 'I'd really like to talk to her,' she thought, then willed herself to the corridor of time.

The hall was empty. She groaned, then turned to a nearby door. It dissolved away as she neared it, and as she stepped through, Ibiza came to herself on a nighttime suburban street. Her apparent future self made her way to a local neighborhood market. 'I am in the future!' Ibiza marveled, 'Sometime soon, I shall walk about uncovered! Free to do as I will!' A nearby street clock read eleven thirty. The visiting Ibiza glanced up at the deep dark sky, 'Half to midnight.' She approached the market, walking a dozen paces behind her future mirror, and was pleased to find the market open. Ibiza watched herself push the door aside and greet the elderly equine proprietor.

"Hello, lass," he said.

"Do you have any chocolate ice cream with almonds?"

"Oh, I ordered extra for you," he replied, "Want to eat it here?"

"Could I?"

"Sure, just let me get it."

She stood up on her hind legs to watch the old horse as he entered a freezer to retrieve a five gallon tub of her favorite ice cream. He set the tub on a low table, and then handed her a large silver spoon, "Here you go, miss!"

Ibiza squeaked happily as she tore the tub open. "How are you this evening?" She asked as she shoveled a great mouthful of ice cream into her maw. "Oh, maybe I'm doing better than you. What's got you troubled?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Folk tend to settle their nerves with snacks," he cast a sideways glance at the dragon, "Seems you've been coming in a fair amount of late."

Ibiza sighed, "You know I'm different from other creatures, right?"

"Perhaps," he said, "But not vastly so,"

"Well, I have special powers, and these powers might affect my ability to relate to animals." She frowned, "A goddess who cannot understand animals could become a terrible thing." The horse nodded. Ibiza swallowed down a bite, "So, I feel it is important that I surround myself with mentors, animals who possess their own powers, who can guide me and serve as my moral compass, so that I never become something terrible."

"So, what's the problem?"

"For the animals who serve me, their lives would basically end. Their entire existence would be spent serving me, forever."

The horse glanced out the front window toward the sleepy neighborhood. "You've been visiting Marigold Greenfield, hm? Are you thinking of including her in your group of mentors?" Ibiza sighed, "I feel terrible, robbing such a sweet horse of her own life and independence."

"When I was a young stallion, I worked at the Prism hydroelectric plant."

"Yes?" Ibiza said.

"I had to sit at a terminal and watch a needle moving around inside a gauge. I had to keep my eyes glued to it, for hours and hours every day. I had to make sure the needle never moved into the red zone of the gauge. It was tiring, exhausting work."

Ibiza sat back on her haunches as the old horse continued, "And you know? I was happy to watch that gauge, even though it was harder work than digging ditches. I was happy to do it because I was helping my friends and my fellow horses to have electricity," he sighed, "I only left that job because I got too old," he looked to Ibiza, "But your helpers, they have special powers? Powers that could help them stay on that gauge, and make sure it never goes into the red?"

Ibiza smiled, "They do,"

He clapped his hands, "Then I'd say you're not taking anything from anyone! You're giving your volunteers the opportunity to serve their fellow animals, and I think you'll find that there's no greater calling and no better purpose than that!"

Ibiza's lips parted in a thoughtful smile. "Ayep," he chuffed, "Go and talk to that little girl, let her decide for herself what she wants to do!"

"Thank you," Ibiza breathed, "Oh, how much is the ice cream?"

"I can put it on the Holden's tab."

Ibiza flicked her wrist. The spoon she held had become a nugget of gold which she gave to the horse, "Will this help?"

"Oh, I'd say it might do alright."

"Goodnight," she said, and then slipped from the store. Ibiza did not return to her adopted family's home. Rather, she curled up on a grassy area at the corner of Forest and Telegraph Avenues. Smiling peacefully, the dragon slept on the quiet corner. From her hidden vantage, Ibiza watched her future self sleep. 'Maybe offering Sam and Mayalee magic powers wasn't so terrible after all? Maybe I knew what was best, all along?'

She glanced up, 'The magic hall knew what I needed to see, it sent me here to see this.'

Ibiza receded from the vision, and returned to Mayalee's home. She raised her head to find Mayalee undressing in the corner; Sam in the washroom. "Oh, let me get off your bed."

"No, it's okay." Mayalee said, "We can sleep on the sofa." "Nonsense," Ibiza replied as she slinked off the bed. "Mayalee, is it difficult? Serving Kromhaut?"

She nodded carefully, "It can be." "If you possessed special powers, beyond what you've been given, would it help to lighten your burden?" Mayalee had a sense of what the dragon was getting at. "Mayalee, I see visions of my future. In this future, I am somehow a protector. I have an important purpose."

Mayalee nodded as Ibiza smiled gently, "However, I cannot bear my burden alone. In this future time, there are animals who assist me." She tapped her stubby claws together, "I want you at my side, Mayalee. If you would serve me, I would do all I could to lighten the burden of loneliness that you bear." She reached out to the mouse, "I need you."

"Let's talk about that later, right now we need to make sure there's going to be a world for you to protect." Fearing she'd been rejected, Ibiza nodded, "Of course," then retired to the parlor. Mayalee looked after her, and noted a change in her demeanor. 'She's matured right before my eyes.' She smiled, her eyes shimmering with hope, and then joined her husband in bed.

In the front room, Ibiza eyed the closet that contained Herald's wheel. The heavy weight of it's emotional burden was palpable. 'Why does Herald keep an old ship's wheel?' She rolled her head about on the backrest, ever mindful of her horns. Her eyes settled on a glass case that contained a green shirt. Ibiza focused on it, and found that it was a uniform tunic. It bore three gold chevrons upon one arm, and upon the other was an embroidered flag, with additional regimental heraldry. 'This belonged to Sam,' She murmured, 'Long long ago, he was a soldier.'

She thought of Mayalee's gift of the music box, 'Given as thanks for saving a ruler,' Ibiza thought, 'Who are these animals? What have they become?' She glanced at a nearby golden candlestick, and saw the amazing circumstance that led it here, only to gather dust. 'Thus do Sam and Mayalee gather dust. Where once they were amazing, and engaged in feats of heroic action, now they while away their time, gathering dust with their collection.'

She wondered if she even wished to have the pair join her. She wondered who Marigold Greenfield might be, and how her future self might make her acquaintance. 'I want Sam and Mayalee at my side, but I don't know how to extricate them from the doldrums of their modern life.' She looked back at Sam's uniform tunic. 'I must understand who they once were.'

Her mind slipped to the forth dimensional hall, as the parlor became dark and cold. Within her mind's eye, Sam and Mayalee hurried along a dark, mist-shrouded path. Ibiza hurried after them as she realized that Sam wore the uniform tunic that now resides in the glass case, but now, in this time, Sam bore a different name.

Karl Kuhn couldn't be sure if he was still under the influence of Doctor Mosin's drugs. Beside him, the mouse's hand burned like fire. The heat made him feel light-headed, as if he were walking upon a cloud. The lion shook his head, and wondered when he might wake from this most peculiar dream. He stumbled along, guided by this strange creature that'd plucked him from certain death, whilst a heavy gale blew across the plains. Karl thought he should be freezing, but he was not. The comfortable warmth from the rodent's hand beat back any chill that might threaten him. Karl's eyes became sleepy as he concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. Her heat made him feel giddy, 'Oh, how it radiates through me!'

He exhaled a long and shuddering groan. "Shhhh..." she whispered, "We're still in danger, you'll need to keep quiet!"

He did as she asked. The pair continued on through the deepening night; followed the bank of a nameless creek. As they hurried along, the lion noted strange wisps of mist that blew upon the wind. The sky seemed otherworldly, and only fanned the fires of his growing anxiety. 'I'm drugged, Mosin has burdened me with a heavy narcotic! For all I know I am in a coma!'

"I have a stash of food near east fork," she said to him, "We'll soon have something to eat." "It's quite all right, I am not hungry." He replied, "Though if you please, there is a morsel that would satisfy me, might I inquire... what is your name?"

"Oh, please forgive me, I am Genivee Tin."

Karl bowed to her, "I am pleased to meet you! Pray tell, have you come to bear me to my afterlife?"

"I must assure you that you are not dead." Genivee said, gently squeezing his hand. He smiled blankly at her, thought back on her efforts to free him. 'How can a mouse bend steel bars?'

"I ceased to be a mouse quite a long while ago."

He stopped in his tracks as the mouse continued on. The frigid chill of the night gripped him when their hands parted. Genivee took his hand once more, and Karl shuddered at the warmth of her touch. She smiled up at him as she caressed his hand. "Please forgive me, Karl, but in a way I spoke a half-truth. Though you are not dead, by this time tomorrow, you might become something else that is neither living, nor dead. Does this trouble you?"

His gaze became far away. He shook his head from left to right. "I do not know." From her hidden vantage, Ibiza marveled at what she beheld. 'This is the night Kromhaut made Sam his servant!'

"Come," Genivee said, tugging upon his tunic, "We must go."

Thus did Karl Kuhn push on into the deepest night he could recall, his companion being a mouse who was not a mouse. She possessed the strength of ten lions. Her body radiated the heat of a bonfire! "Karl, I must warn you that your thoughts are not your own. I may hear them, as clearly as any spoken word, though I must say, your inner voice possesses fine manners."

"Then you must be aware of the question that weighs first and foremost upon my mind." "Which question? Of my origin? Or your physical state come the morn?"

He chortled, but was hushed by the mouse. "Be still! A party of soldiers approaches!" Karl tightened his jaw, strained to listen, "I hear nothing."

"Shhhh!" She hissed, "This way!" Genivee pulled him down into a nearby gully and rushed headlong through the woolly thickets. Karl, forced to stoop to keep hold of her hand was swatted in the face by each branch and bramble, "Stop! Our scent is being imparted upon each and every hedge!"

"That is my plan, Karl."

The lion groaned. Finally, Genivee scrambled up the embankment, bodily hauling the one hundred six kilogram Karl as she went. He marveled at her strength, but swallowed when he became aware of their pursuers. Forty or so by his reckoning, all closing on his position! "They've caught our scent!"

For her part, Genivee Tin seemed pleased by the interception. She skipped a short distance away and let cry a menacing grunt that mimicked with stunning realism the utterance of a deadly tuskin beast.

The call was uncanny! Karl's jaw slacked in disbelief as Genivee winked at him. A hundred meters away, the squad of lions paused. A sergeant gestured for his troops to stand fast, whilst Genivee flicked her whiskers. She grunted again, then skipped across the cold hard ground. Her foot falls echoed like the hoofbeats of a creature many times her size. In the dim light of the crescent moon, Karl could clearly discern hoof prints left by her small feet. 'Magic-'

Dizzied, he crouched down, 'But, why not simply mask our presence? Why the subterfuge?'

'There is a method to my madness,' she answered within his mind, 'Trust me, Sir Karl.'

Genivee looked through the forest utilizing a wavelength of light that modern animals would call infrared. The bodies of the pursuing soldiers became bright blobs of color, clearly visible within the gloom. She noticed an individual break from the unit to attempt a flanking maneuver. Gennie screamed in the tuskin's voice, sending the trooper back to the (relative) safety of his fellows. Then, Genivee moved to Karl's side and ripped away his uniform kilt! Nude from the waist-down, he opened his maw to protest, but shrieked as a fount of blood erupted from her mouth! She shredded the garment, and splashed it with the blood and gore issuing from her body.

Karl was horrified! He cupped his hand over his mouth as Genivee placed the final touches upon her deception. Then, she let cry one final roar, followed by a lion's screams! Karl realized with horror that it was his own voice that she mimicked!

Bodily she lifted him up and carried him away, her little feet leaving behind cloven hoof prints in the dusty soil. Gennie looked back at the soldiers as they traded glances with one another. With a smile, Genivee Tin carried the tall lion on through the wood, leaving the soldiers to report on Karl Kuhn's terrible demise.

"Did I die?" Karl asked. "Quite messily, I should think."

Karl reached down to grasp the mouse, "Please lady, tell me what manner of creature you are." She paused for a moment, then smiled up at him. "I am a wanderer along the morning row, a servant of life." From his precarious perch on her shoulder, Karl murmured thoughtfully. 'That is not the answer I expected.'

Not far away, Ibiza tapped her paws together as she cooed at Genivee's corny impromptu poetry. Genivee suddenly turned her face toward the visiting dragon and spat out a large hunk of flesh which splashed against a nearby tree. Karl looked back at the mess as they continued on, "Was that a bit of my innards?"

"We need to leave as convincing a scene as we can, the Arch Duke will comb these woods come the morn, looking for any and all evidence of your death." The pair continued on, leaving Ibiza to wonder if Genivee had actually heard her. 'Am I not invisible?'

Confused, perhaps alarmed, Ibiza withdrew from the forth dimensional hall. Now returned to Sam's home, Ibiza crept along the hall to the couple's bedroom. "Karl? Uh, I mean, Sam? Are you awake?"

"Ibby?" Came Mayalee's voice. Ibiza rushed into the room and leapt upon the couple's bed. "Did you hear me?" "W-what?" Mayalee peeped. "On the moors, when you spirited Sam away, did you hear me?"

"Look, is something wrong?" Mayalee asked, but she was interrupted by the agitated dragon, "I visited the night you rescued Sam! I saw you fool the soldiers! I need to ask if you heard me in the dark!"

"Ibby, I can't remember, I mean, I remember the night." Sam stilled Ibiza with a firm hand. "It's alright. I'm sure there's going to be many strange things that you'll discover as more and more of your power manifests."

"Only the most powerful beings can interact with a place during time travel! Didn't we decide that?" "I think so," Sam replied. Ibiza pressed her lips back into an anguished grimace, "I don't want to be a powerful being! Not like that!"

Sam hugged her. The tip of her tail whipped back and forth as Sam held her close, "Ibiza, it's okay. We're going to figure this out. Remember, it's only been a week since you were born." The dragon closed her paws around him as Mayalee joined in the embrace. "Thank you," Ibiza breathed. After a moment, she drew back to look upon him. "I bet it was scary for you, when Kromhaut revealed himself."

"For all of my life, I'd thought the only power in this world was an animal who knows what they're doing." He said, and then smiled to his wife, "And then came a little mouse, who counted spirits of fire as her kin."

"What happened after? How did you adjust?"

He sighed, "Thus began a steady march of time for me," he replied, his speech now flavored with his medieval accent, "The days passed swiftly, merging seamlessly into the following weeks. Soon the weeks turned to months, and then the months became years."

"But how did you feel?"

Sam again looked to his wife. "Loved."

Ibiza closed her eyes, and then bowed to the couple. She left them, and returned to the parlor. Glancing about at their many possessions, the old odd ends now took on a deeper significance. They meant something. Brushing her tail across some, Ibiza relived the steady march of time that'd carried the immortal couple across the great gulf of years.

She noted a scrap of clothing that the couple'd wore during the first industrial revolution. Through it, Ibiza saw their home near Oakdale, a charming realm of mice and other small animals. In such a place, it was impossible to not acquire friends, but the few friendships they cultivated passed as swiftly as autumn leaves blown by the wind.

"Five hundred years on," said a voice, "The second industrial revolution brought with it some measure of prosperity and comfort, but always, the loneliness was not far behind." Ibiza turned to find the grey stallion. "You should know that although Karl and Genivee had become citizens of the future, it was in the past that their hearts remained."

Eyes shimmering, Ibiza approached they grey figure. He set his staff against a cabinet, then took Ibiza in his arms. "Who are you?" She peeped. "I am your brother," he whispered, "And I love you very much."

Mayalee rushed into the room, only to find Ibiza holding empty air, but as she looked past the dragon, an elegant wooden staff lay resting against the cabinet.

***

Next morning, Sam piloted his steam-powered car to a trendy area near mid city called Mercy Street. It was an older area, with narrow streets hemmed-in with multi-story, mixed-use buildings constructed some ninety years ago. All manner of cafes and restaurants called the area home. 'Have Mercy on my Wallet,' was Mercy Street's unofficial motto. Sam glanced into a lovely pizza place, then dived into Aquarius cafe to wait for Allomere Clemens.

Settling down with a muffin and a cup of coffee, Sam passed the time animal-watching, but it wasn't long before the hawk arrived. "Hello, Sam!" Allomere chimed as he entered the cafe, "I have some news for you!"

Sam perked up, "Oh?"

The hawk leaned in close, "I'm not supposed to say anything until your service record is assembled, but you've been hired!"

"Alright!" Sam beamed, "When do I start?"

"Well, the date the judge gave you during our little ruse is in fact your date for academy training. After you graduate, you'll be placed with a community patrol unit somewhere in Brandenburg, with Bernard Ganz as your instructor."

"Sounds good!" The hawk proudly patted Sam with his wing, "You'll do fine!"

"Allo, I feel like we're becoming friends." Sam said with an odd tremor in his voice. A flash of concern crossed the hawk's face, "I think so, Sam. You're not about to reveal some dark secret, are you?"

"Depends on what you consider dark," Sam said as he leaned in close, "There's something I need to tell you." Sam took a golden coin from his pocket and placed it on the table. It was a priceless Aureus coin, dating from the first century AC, (After Cataclysm.)

"Uh, where did you get that?" "I was paid with this coin, eleven hundred years ago, when I was a soldier in the Imperial Army."

Allomere shook his head, "Sam, if you want to get out of being a police officer, you can simply say so." "You keep a little book under your bed that your mother one received as a midwinter gift. She highlighted certain passages with a yellow marker pen, that over the years has turned brown."

The hawk visibly reacted to Sam's disclosure, but quickly regained his composure. "Sam, I don't know when you were in my room, but I don't think-" Sam suddenly revealed Allomere's deepest secret. For the sake of the hawk's privacy, I'll not reveal it to you, dear traveler, but for Allomere, Sam's revelation was devastating.

"Hey," Sam said, reaching out to the hawk, "I'm sorry, but I needed you to know that I can read your mind, I need you to believe."

"Believe what?" Allomere gasped, "That you are from the imperial era?" "I need you to believe me when I say there's a dragon at my place that needs your help. She needs a councilor."

Allomere choked back a laugh. "A dragon? Like, fire-breathing and everything?" "Uh, she can probably breathe fire, yes." Allomere shook his head, "I don't know, Sam. I need to think about all of this."

Sam took the Aureus coin and placed it in Allomere's shoulder bag. "This is a down-payment. I'll give you two more of these if you show up at my place, tonight." Allomere's eyes shimmered, for the hawk valued currency almost as much as he valued his husband, for wealth represented security to the very insecure hawk. "O-okay, Sam."

Sam nodded, then gulped down his coffee. Allomere wandered from the cafe, bearing a coin that could make him insanely wealthy. He extended his wings, but momentarily forgot how to fly. After a moment, the councilor composed himself, then set off for home. Now high above the mid city skyline, his shoulder bag felt very heavy. Allomere fretted and worried that the coin might fall out, that he'd lose it, and his chance to be a multimillionaire. 'I can retire! Timothy and I can move to the islands and forget about everything!'

As Allomere passed over the great river, he began to wonder, "How does Sam have so many of these coins?" (He didn't believe for a minute that Sam was actually as old as he'd claimed.) 'But how did he know about what my father did? Nobody knows about that!'

Even more than his desire to possibly acquire additional coins, Allomere wished to know how Sam knew about his father. 'I have to go to Sam's place,' he thought, 'I have to find out.'

Once Allomere touched down outside his home, he thumbed an electronic bracelet affixed to his ankle. "Hello," came Timothy's voice. "Let me in, please." Allomere said. As he approached the front door, the sliding of locks echoed through the heavy wood. Timothy pulled the door open and smiled to his husband. "We have a situation," Allomere said, "Sam has somehow been inside the house, we need to pull up all security camera footage for the times we've been out. I need to see when he might have breached our security."

"Uh, I haven't seen any alerts," Timothy said, becoming very concerned, "But, I'll look at the footage." "Sam may know how to bypass our alarms, but he'd not have access to our recording unit! Check it carefully!"

Allomere rushed to his room and began methodically inspecting every nook, looking for any clues that someone might have been there, whilst Timothy poured over the video footage. His eyes fixed upon a tawny-brown hair, 'Aha!' he thought, but realized it was only a fiber from one of Timothy's pillowcases. "Sam wants us to come over tonight," Allomere said, shrugging off his shoulder bag. He unzipped it with his foot and emptied it, relieved beyond measure to see the coin tumble out. He plucked it up with his foot and turned it over and over with his long toes, feeling the weight. 'It's definitely gold,' he thought, 'But, it would be insane if this is actually an Aureus.' Glancing through the bedroom door to where his husband sat at the computer desk, Allomere opened his security box and stashed the coin safely inside. 'Fuck, if this is real, Timmy and I are rich!'

"I'm not seeing anything," Timothy called. "Let's forget it for now," Allomere replied, "I need you to get the gun, and load it."

Timothy appeared at the door. "What?"

"I need you to come with me, to Sam's house. I need to find out how Sam knew something very personal about my father," Allomere sighed, "And, there's a chance that Sam might be crazy."

"Uh, it's kind of crazy to go to someone's house with a gun. It was supposed to be for defense, remember?" "Timmy, this is for defense. If Sam is trying to blackmail me-" "Then you call the police." Timothy replied. The animals shuddered as the telephone rang. Allomere frowned; moved to answer it. "Hello?" "Go to your mother's book," came Sam's voice over the line, "Turn to any page, and I'll read the first paragraph to you."

"Fuck you," Allomere spat. "Do you want the other two coins?" Allomere clacked his mandible, then retrieved his mother's book. "Okay, dickhead, read to me." Sam read the paragraph. Allomere glanced sharply about. He gestured to Timothy to turn out the lights. Now huddled under the bed, Allomere pushed the pages with his beak. "Okay, read this." He said, careful to cover the book with his wing. Sam's voice issued from the telephone, reciting word after word of dialogue written on the page. Allomere sat up, and traded glances with his husband. "I promise I'm not trying to swindle you," Sam said, "You can bring the gun if that makes you feel better, but I promise you won't need it."

"O-okay," Allomere peeped. "See you tonight," Sam said, "And thanks. I know this is really weird."

"Yeah," Allomere breathed as Sam ended the call. Timothy drew near, "What the fuck is going on?" "Uh, Sam might be a thousand year old Imperial Army veteran who wants to give me a priceless gold coin if I conduct a therapy session on a fantasy dragon."

***

Hours later, Timothy glanced at the clock. "It's almost six, if we're going to Brandenburg, we'd better get going." "Do you have the gun?" Allomere asked. "I thought we decided we didn't need it?" "He said I could bring it if it makes me feel better." Timothy frowned, and then went to the hallway cabinet. He pushed a keypad beneath a protruding edge, and a drawer popped open. Timothy withdrew a large revolver. He opened the cylinder and traced his finger over the six cartridges nestled there. With a flare of his nostrils, Timmy pushed the ejection rod and emptied the weapon. He closed the cylinder back into the frame and returned to the main parlor where he stuffed the (now harmless) weapon into a bag. Allomere breathed a sigh, "Thank you for doing this."

"I like Sam," Timothy said, "I don't think he's a bad guy."

"You like his tongue up your ass, besides, con artists are often very personable," Allomere said as he poked a button with his beak; opened a hidden doorway. The pair moved into a narrow hall which led to the garage. Inside, Timothy opened his little van's side door. Allomere hopped in. Timothy secured the door, and then took his place behind the wheel. He thumbed the garage door opener, then cautiously reversed out of the space. Once the door had closed, Timothy took out his phone and activated the home's security system.

His husband breathed a nervous sigh. Timothy glanced at him, "So, what happens when a therapist needs a therapist?"

"Home invasions are up, Timothy. There's good cause to be anxious." He glanced at the fox, "This isn't me simply being neurotic." "Hmm-hmm," Timothy chuffed as he guided his van down along the path and onto the connector road. Allomere reached up with his foot to activate a touch screen affixed to the passenger side dashboard. He brought up a navigation map. "Here's Sam's address," Allomere murmured, "Hmm, it's in a fairly nice area," he noted, "Though, someone who possesses priceless coins isn't likely to be living in government housing."

"Yeah, what's up with this coin? You said he was going to pay you with one?" "Sam gave me a coin today, it's worth is more than I could earn in twenty years on my job."

"Woah," Timothy breathed, "Is it real?" Allomere shrugged his wings, "Yeah." "So, what makes you think Sam was in the house?" The hawk shifted uncomfortably, "How else could he have known about my mother's book?"

"So what about that fucking weird story time over the phone? You know there's animals who sometimes know things, right?" Allomere glanced sharply at his husband, "You don't believe that, do you?" Timothy shrugged, "I dunno, is there really a mythical creature staying at Sam's place?"

Allomere bumped his head against the padded door frame, "I don't know, Timmy. There's something odd going on, but I have to wait and see what we'll find." He smiled, "And even then, I don't know if I'll believe it."

He gazed out the window, "I hope that Sam isn't crazy. Fuck, I don't want that. I'm hoping that there really is a dragon, because I'd rather deal with that then have to face the anguish of being tricked by someone I really liked."

"You liked him, hmm?" Allomere smiled, "When I saw how happy you were, having a good time with them, I knew I wanted them to be a part of our lives."

"So, why do I have a gun?" "Ugh, I don't know. Maybe you shouldn't have brought it." Timothy reached out to smooth his husband's feathers. "I unloaded it." Allomere chortled, "Of course you did."

Now came the border checkpoint. The central district's border with Brandenburg was fairly loose, but it was still a border check. A tall lion approached and peered at Timothy's identity card as the fox pressed it to the window. He gestured for Timothy to roll down the window. "May I see your identity card?" He asked Allomere. The hawk leaned forward, as Timothy retrieved Allomere's identity card from his shoulder bag. The sentry eyed the card. "What agency are you with?"

"I'm the state psychological examiner."

"Very well," the sentry replied, "Have a good evening, sir." Allomere nodded as Timothy slowly accelerated away. "That felt kind of intense, having a gun in the car." Timothy said. "At least you unloaded it, I could have at least said we were on our way to sell it to a new police officer."

Allomere glanced at his map as it refreshed for Brandenburg. "Okay, sixteen kilometers. I'm glad they don't live way the hell out somewhere remote."

"You nervous?" Timothy asked. Allomere noted his husband's nervous tapping on the steering wheel. "No more than you are." "Well, it seems like whatever we find is going to be kind of nerve-wracking. Either Sam is going to be a loon, or there's a real dragon there, which is going to be completely loony." "Like, it's a lose-lose proposition?" Allomere asked.

"I almost don't want to know which it is." Allomere nodded, "Want to turn around? Go home?" The fox glanced at his husband, "I don't know. I just don't know what to do."

"Five kilometers," Allomere said, "We should start looking for Genstrasse Boulevard." Timothy squinted at the road signs, "The damn lions have to use this gothic script that's almost impossible to read."

"I suppose we'll have to spend the night here," Allomere said, more to himself than to Timothy. "I want to fuck Sam, even if he turns out to be crazy." Timothy said with a grin. Allomere eyed him, "You just might be able to fit it all in there."

"Oops, there's Genstrasse." Timothy made a right turn, "Okay, now what?" "Left turn on Leeds," Allomere said. "Okay, here it is," Timothy said, guiding the van around the turn. "I guess just find a place to park," Allo said; gestured with his wing, "That housing community should be their neighborhood."

Timmy slid into a nearby parking space, "Everything is real angular, here." He said, noting the extreme architecture of signs and buildings. "Authoritarian aesthetics." Allomere replied. The couple rolled out and locked up, though it was hardly necessary. Timothy shouldered his bag, but after a moment he unlocked his door and tossed the bag into the van. "No gun," Allomere said. "No," Timothy replied, "I trust Sam."

Allo swatted Timothy's bottom, "We only have the weapon you're packing!" They shared a needed laugh, and then began the process of searching for Sam and Mayalee's flat. The gentle lighting of the walkway softened the hard edges of the buildings, and cerated an almost inviting atmosphere. 'I don't know why I have a problem with this architecture,' Timothy thought, 'We live in a freaking bunker.'

He shuddered as his cellular telephone chimed. Timothy answered it. "Hi, guys," Sam said, "I see you're at the opposite end of our complex, I'll have Mayalee come out and get you."

"Thanks," Timothy replied. Sam ended the call as the pair waited. After a time, Mayalee appeared on the path. "Guys, hi! Thanks for coming!" Her smile was reassuring, and Timothy felt himself relax. Glancing at his husband, Allomere seemed to be taking everything moment-by-moment. "You guys okay?" Mayalee asked. "Uh, yeah," Allomere said. Mayalee cupped her hand on his wing, "Ibiza is going to wait in my room until you are ready to meet her."

"That's the dragon, right?" Timothy asked. Mayalee nodded as she approached their door. "Okay, come on in."

Timmy offered Allomere a supportive nod, and then entered the home. He wrinkled his nose at the gathered piles of dusty boxes. Allomere was similarly appalled, until he began to notice what some of the items actually were. "Wait, is this real?" Allomere asked, glancing at an intricately jeweled egg. Mayalee nodded. "That's a Celestina egg! From the fifth century! That's worth a fortune!" He marveled that such a treasure was simply cast into a paperwood box, gathering dust.

Sam appeared from the hall, leaning upon an elegant wooden staff. "Hi guys, thanks for coming."

"Well, I had to meet your dragon friend," Allomere replied. Sam looked Timothy up and down. "No guns?" The fox smiled, "I could make a dick joke, but no, no guns."

"I appreciate the trust," he said, then turned toward the bedroom, "Ibby? Want to come and meet our guests?"

There was no reply. Mayalee became alarmed, and rushed to the bedroom. "Sam, she's gone!" The lion rushed back to find the bedroom window open. In the parlor, Allomere furled his wings, "I should have known you were full of shit!" Sam returned to the parlor, "Allomere, I'm sorry, I guess she-" "I don't want to hear it!" He nudged Timothy, "Let's go!"

Sam watched helplessly as Timothy opened the door, but a large figure blocked their exit. Herald Kirsten stood framed in the dark, his black feathers blending seamlessly with the shadows so that only his eyes could be discerned in the gloom. For a fleeting moment, Allomere wondered if he was the dragon. "Having difficulties?" He asked, pushing his way into the home.

"You could say that." Sam replied. Herald nodded, then turned to their visitors, "Young master fox, if you please, go to the kitchen and retrieve a carving knife." "W-what?" Herald stepped closer, "Must I ask again?"

Allomere looked on helplessly as Timothy went to the kitchen. Mayalee attempted to help him, but Sam held her fast. Timothy selected a foot-long blade from a drawer. "Is it sufficiently sharp?" Herald asked. Timothy ran his fingertip over the edge. "Yeah, but what the fuck are we doing?"

Herald nodded, "If you please, thrust the blade into Sam's belly." Timothy dropped the knife. Herald sighed, "Mayalee, pick up the knife and stab your husband." "Wait!" Allomere cried, "Please!"

"Allomere," Mayalee said, "Just trust us, okay?"

Panting heavily, Allomere watched as Mayalee took up the knife, and thrust it into Sam's abdomen. The blade shattered. Timothy leapt back. Eyes wide, Allomere looked at the pieces of blade that littered the floor. Timothy cautiously approached, and reached out to touch the torn fabric of Sam's shirt. Herald suddenly reached up with his foot and slammed Mayalee to the floor. Sam raised his foot, and brought it down hard upon the mouse's head. Allomere screamed. Herald let the mouse up. She smiled gently to their visitors. "Hey!" Came a voice from outside, "What's going on in there?"

Sam greeted the lioness from next door and assured her that they were practicing for a dramatic play. She pushed past him and stormed into the home. She scented the air, then peered at Sam, "You're an odd bunch, Samuel Preston." After she'd gone, Timothy exhaled a long breath, "Okay, how did you guys do that?"

"We can't be harmed," Sam said, "It's a side-effect of our contact with the dragons." Allomere cautiously inspected Mayalee's head, searching for any sign of trauma. 'Her skull should have been crushed.'

The hawk still clung to the familiarity of the ordinary world, but Timothy seemed to embrace the possibility that the familiars were indeed supernatural animals. "Do you require further convincing?" Herald asked Allomere, then clamped his maw about Mayalee's neck. He lifted her up; shook her violently. The mouse's limbs flailed horribly. After torturous moment of thrashing, the eagle released Mayalee. The mouse smoothed her dress and smirked at the eagle, "I think you enjoyed that a bit too much."

"Oh, umm.. okay," Allomere breathed. Sam sighed, "I'm sorry that Ibiza took off. If you'll stay a while, I'm sure she'll come back soon." He gestured to the many piles of valuables, "In the meantime, why don't you do some exploring?"

***

"Timothy, look at this," Allomere said, gesturing to an ornate candlestick, "It's got the sigil of the Diarch of Carcasson. Third century." Allomere glanced at Sam, "How did you get this?"

"Ahh, we stole that." Mayalee admitted. "From the taller sister's royal suite." Allomere smirked, "So, you have infiltrated animal's sleeping rooms?" "Only when they're plotting nefarious shit." Sam replied, "We took that candlestick from the princess' bedroom while she was sleeping, so she'd know we could get to her if we wanted to." Allomere cast them a questioning glance. "For a period of time, we engaged in espionage," Mayalee said, "Because Shannonvale was so weakened after King Octavius died." Sam nodded, "We didn't want other kingdoms to threaten Shannonvale, so we did what we could to keep them in check."

Allomere shook his head in amazement, then became somber, "Did you ever meet Octavius?" "Go and get your feather," Sam said to Mayalee. The mouse smiled, then leapt up. "Feather?" Allomere asked. "How would you like to meet Octavius?" Sam asked, then bowed his head, "Well, at least his feather."

Mayalee approached with her wooden box. She opened it, revealing the large brown feather contained therein. Eyes shimmering, Allomere looked upon it. Timothy breathed a sigh, and then withdrew a ten pound note from his wallet. Emblazoned across the note was a portrait of King Octavius. He gazed longingly at the eagle's image, then looked upon the feather. "Is this real? Is it really his feather?"

Mayalee nodded as she closed the box, then returned it to her bedroom. Timothy began to weep. "Aw, hey," Sam said, gently taking the fox in his arms. "I want to believe that's him!" Timothy gasped, "Please, please promise me that's really him!"

A golden paw touched his shoulder. Timmy's eyes widened as he looked upon the stubby golden fingers. Allomere's maw parted, his face a mask of astonishment. Slowly, carefully, Timothy turned his face to meet the dragon's gaze. "It is Octavius," Ibiza said, her dark brown voice surprising Timothy. "I can take you to meet him if you'd like."

"R-really?" Mayalee inserted herself between the two, "Ibby, I don't know if that's a good idea."

"How can you do that?" Allomere asked, "Can you move through time?" Ibiza nodded, "Yes, in fact, I was just visiting my future self." She smiled to Sam, "I believe I may ferry passengers, if you would like to visit your ancient home."

"No!" Mayalee roared, "Absolutely not!" "But Mayalee-" Ibiza protested, but the mouse was having none of it, "No! No! You can't bring animals into the past! You can't meddle with our history!" "But we're invisible when we travel-" Ibiza argued, but Mayalee threw up her hands, "What if suddenly you weren't?"

This question gave Ibiza pause. Mayalee went to the refrigerator and tore open a bottle of apple juice. She gulped the juice down, and then hopped upon a chair. She folded her arms and grumped. Ibiza understood that a line had been drawn, and to cross it would severely damage her relations with the mouse. "Alright," she sighed, "I shall not go."

"How was your future self?" Sam asked. Ibiza blinked, "Ah, she is well, but always seems sad." Allomere became intrigued, "Really? Is there any specific instance you can give me that would have made her sad?"

"I don't know. She always seems sad." Allomere turned to Mayalee, "You said you wanted me to help Ibiza. I think there might be a clear benefit to allowing her to ferry me through time. If I can assess her future self, and determine why she is troubled, perhaps we can address the issues now, as they arise."

Mayalee flicked her whiskers. "I'll think about it." Ibiza thought to quote the familiars' words back at them, 'You are not in charge here,' but thought better of it.

***

In Sam's bedroom, Allomere Clemens perched atop a box as Ibiza made herself comfortable on the bed. "Alright," Allomere said, "Before we do any sort of extraordinary things with time travel, how about you tell me about yourself."

"Oh, well, Rosemary touched me and gave me her mind so that I could think after a dragon who is probably my sibling tore death out of me, because otherwise I would have death for a mind which would have been terrible, and I see a stallion who told me he was my brother," she paused, noted Allomere's quixotic expression. "Is that too much?"

He smiled, "Rosemary, who is this animal?" "Uh, Sam and Mayalee know her pretty well, but they don't seem to talk about her at all. I went back in time to try and meet her, but she seemed really intense and intimidating, so I left."

"Hmmm," Allomere said, reaching up with his foot to scribble something in a little notebook. Ibiza leaned over to see what he was writing, but it was only a geometric shape. "Drawing helps me think," he said, then stood up, "I think I know what we need to do."

In the kitchen, Mayalee heard the bedroom door open. She rushed to the hall as the councilor and his client emerged from her room. "I believe we have a course of action." Allomere said. "Yes?" Mayalee asked.

"Okay, if Ibiza's mind is an imprint of someone named Rosemary Barter, what I need to do is visit this person, and assess them. That would be more efficient than trying to visit Ibiza's future self."

"It's not possible to meet Rosemary," Mayalee said. "I've seen Rosemary in the past," Ibiza said, "Maybe we could travel to her there."

Allomere gestured to the familiars, "Sound alright?" Timothy shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and scratching himself. Allomere smiled to his mate, "How long do these voyages take? Is there any strange time-dilation?"

"As far as I know, no." Ibiza replied, "And, based upon how I crashed into a field, you don't actually go anywhere, you just kind of fall asleep and dream the voyage. Like, it's your mind that travels, not your body."

Allomere nodded, "What say we get some sleep, and then get started in the morning?" Sam patted the hawk, "Thank you." He presented two of the priceless golden coins to Allomere, "Here's those coins I promised." The hawk glanced at them, "What use do I have for money?"

Sam tossed the coins into a nearby box. 'Now you understand my collection.'

And so the companions settled down for the night. Ibiza curled up in her place beside the heater, whilst Allomere and Timothy slept in the parlor. Herald Kirsten slipped from the home and took wing, straddling the boundary between the physical realm and the spirt world. At length he arrived in the mid city area, and sought out his favorite spirit. He knew right where to find her. "Hello, Maggie."

The deceased boxer sat near the entrance to her old gymnasium. She glanced at him, but her shadowy eyes were hazy, and unfocused. "You are hurting," Herald said, his stoic mask now cast aside, revealing his true emotional face. "Love, I wish I could help you."

"Hi, Herald," she whispered. The eagle cursed himself. 'If I'd had the courage to lay Maggie's soul back within her body, she would be safe!'

"What year is it?" She asked. "Love, do you see the spiritual path? Can you see it?" She shook her head, "Uh, I don't see anything from the spirit world." Herald wondered if perhaps it was possible for Ibiza to allow him to travel back into time, to that moment in the morgue, or perhaps even earlier, to eradicate the virus that'd claimed Maggie's life. "I'm going to do all I can to help you, Maggie."

"That's nice," Maggie murmured, then turning back to the gymnasium she began to shimmer erratically. 'Glorafin!' Herald called, addressing the deity who was his patron goddess. 'Please help her. I beg you.'

As was usual, there was no reply.

Come the morning, Allomere Clemens popped awake. Beside him, Timothy stirred. 'We're still at the flat,' Allomere thought, wondering perhaps if it'd all been a strange dream. Around a corner, he sighted Ibiza's long golden tail. 'Not a dream, but still strange,' he said to himself. The tail retreated into the other room, then Ibiza's angular face peered around the corner. Allomere's heart fluttered, and a kind of panic response gripped him. It was a primordial response, reserved for those times when an animal sights a potentially dangerous predator.

"Hello, uh, good morning." Ibiza peeped. "I'm sorry I look the way I do. I wish I had real eyes." Allomere went to her, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just startled." He patted her with his wing, "How did you sleep?"

"I'm okay." She replied. After a moment, the animals all woke and assembled in the kitchen. Mayalee heated a grill as Sam prepared waffle mix. "You really reacted to Octavius' feather," Ibiza said to Timothy, "Did this animal mean that much to you?"

"He was a great king, and did so much for everyone. It wasn't fair that he died so early." Mayalee could see a giant thought bubble above Ibiza's head. "Don't even think about it." The dragon smirked, "Wouldn't it be great to have him come forward and help your government? Isn't it in trouble?"

"Nobody would believe it was him, even if they saw you, Ibiza." Sam said, "Besides, Octavius would never be allowed to come to power in today's political climate." Ibiza saw Sam's thoughts, and noted his disdain for the greedy animals who monopolized the nation's resources for their own ends. "But, I am destruction. You said yourself that the act of destruction could allow new things to flourish. What if I kill all of the greedy animals?"

"Then you'd become a monster." Sam replied, "You'd become worse than the thing you are trying to destroy."

She hung her head, "This world is very complex." Mayalee nudged her, "It's okay, and don't be shy about asking those questions, that's how you grow."

After breakfast, Allomere suggested they begin their voyage. The pair settled down in the parlor, and then went to sleep. Sam leaned over Allomere and noted that his breathing was very shallow. 'Almost like he was in a coma.'

The lion glanced into a mirror and noticed a grey figure appear in the parlor to retrieve the walking staff. Sam whirled around, but the stallion was gone. Now within the corridor of time, Allomere hopped about to the many different doors. "I had no idea it would be like this!"

"Hera said this is how our brains perceive the forth dimension." He smiled to the dragon, "Is it possible to meet her?" Ibiza helplessly shrugged, "I don't know." At length, Ibiza found the door that led to Rosemary Barter's maritime voyage. The dragon gestured for the hawk, and then led him through the portal. As he passed through the doorway, the soft pastel light of the corridor was replaced by grey and gloomy nighttime air. Allomere shivered as Ibiza led him along a walkway between the ship's wheelhouse and the side railing. As they moved, Allomere looked down into the dark and churning water.

"There she is," Ibiza whispered. The hawk's keen vision cut through the haze, and he beheld a tall porcelain statue standing far up on the prow of the ship. The statue moved. Allomere blinked, "Is that her? Is she really alive?"

"It does seem like she's standing inside the spirit world, but I don't see how. She isn't dead." Allomere edged closer. Around him, the distant bells of navigation markers could be heard. He had a sense that they were nearing the coast, though to look around you'd have no way of knowing. 'Except for the chimes of the buoys.'

"I have a little over two weeks to find their meeting place." The mare said. Allomere glanced at her as the white horse began to debate some complication with an unseen animal. He looked back at Ibiza. "Are you sure we're invisible?"

"Uh, yeah. Almost sure." Allomere swallowed, and then stole himself to approach the horse. 'I can see why she said this horse was intimidating.' He moved up along side Rosemary as the horse continued her conversation with - nobody. Near the wheelhouse, Ibiza fiddled with the end of her tail as she waited for Allomere to complete his observation. After a time, the hawk returned to her side. "What do you think, Allomere? Is she crazy?" He looked back at the mare. "You say magical beings can communicate silently to one another? Almost like telepathy?"

"Yeah, it is pretty much telepathy." "But nobody else would be able to hear it, right?" Ibiza nodded. Allomere glanced back at Rosemary. "I don't think she's mentally ill. I think she's actually hearing someone speaking to her, in the way Sam or Mayalee would talk to one another with their minds."

"Okay, how can you tell?" Allomere sighed, "It's just a hunch, but I'll definitely need more time to examine her. How long can we stay here?" "A little while longer, I think I'm getting the hang of holding on to these moments."

Allomere nodded, then looked out over the bow as the vessel neared the sea wall. In the cool stillness of the early morning hours, the freighter passed many craft that were drawn up, and others that were anchored. The hawk shivered as a heavy mist descended from on high, it's etherial quality stoking Rosemary's paranoia; "Did you pity him, Kromhaut? This sailor, how is it you've managed to produce an ounce of mercy for him, and yet you've none for me?"

"Who's she talking about?" Allomere wondered. "I wonder if it's Herald?" Ibiza offered. The unnatural fog now blanketed the bay, whilst the mist and haze of the spirit world heaped more gloom upon Rosemary's eyes; but her ears could discern far off seas crashing upon beaches, and sea-birds fussing and arguing over the day's fishing rights.

Then with an abruptness that shook her, the ship passed through the mist. Rosemary glanced back at the wall of white as the ship moved on, then turned toward the bow where she was accorded a fine view of the city of Vahevala. The seaport's lights sparkled along the coast, their splendor a reminder that the world around her was changing, while she herself was not. "Rosemary looks really sad," Ibiza murmured.

A loudspeaker rang out; "Now go to your stations, the sea and anchor detail!"

Sleepy animals poured up from the freighter's ladder wells and passage ways. They manned their stations, supervised by an equine captain who stood up on the prow. He turned his eyes to Rosemary and seemed to acknowledge her presence, but Ibiza knew he looked not at her, but at the leading boatswain.

"How would Trickett know of this rendezvous? He would have no idea what the dragon's familiars are up to." Rosemary said. Allomere leaned toward what he hoped was Ibiza's ear, "Okay, who is that?" "I have no idea."

Rosemary turned to a nearby animal, "Eh? What am I supposed to do? Place my faith in a scoundrel who hasn't an ounce of decency? Who is himself a murderer?" Rosemary was beset by a terrible panic, "What am I to do!?" The wraith drew a deep breath and held it, then blew out a long and ragged sigh, "She'd declare us unfit to serve."

"Uh, okay, maybe she is mentally ill." Allomere whispered.

Rosemary began to pace, all manner of questions swirling about her mind, "How do they intend on rehabilitating this eagle? And why even select him? If they desire a scoundrel, I most certainly fit the bill!"

Though she'd never met Captain Vanderdecken, she felt she knew him well enough through the tales told by a ghost named Clint Trickett. "Though, how much of his lurid stories are just mindless wind-baggery, eh?"

Turning again to the nearby canid, Rosemary nervously tugged upon her long fingers, "Though I wonder, am I capable of serving anyone or anything?" She considered Vanderdecken's state; "The poor fool has been trapped aboard his vessel for a thousand years! He must be-" she turned her head to spit a haughty laugh, "He must be as nutty as a loon! How does the dragon intend to put such a traumatized animal to work?"

'Calm yourself!' Said the voice inside her mind, 'Be steady!'

Rosemary grudgingly obliged. She smoothed her dress, then cast her gaze across the bay to the gleaming coastal city. The view across the harbor was lovely, though the sea port was more built-up than she remembered. She shook with surprise when the ship had covered many miles in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Now parallel with the dockside landing, the ship made it's final preparations to make port. On the pier, crews of wolves made ready to receive lines cast from the freighter. Rosemary looked upon their goings-on with interest, and imagined Clint Trickett and the other mariners of the Exeter performing the same sorts of chores as these modern animals. 'Would Vanderdecken take the lofty perch? High up on the prow?'

She sighed, annoyed beyond measure that she might've been taken for a fool. The ship shook beneath her as it settled against the landing. Cries rang out as the wolves grasped at the lines thrown to them.

'There's no way Trickett could have known! He told me what I wanted to hear, because he knows how much I despise this place! He tricked me into coming here!'

Her frightful mood lurched back and forth, swinging wildly between a crushed hopelessness and seething rage. Tears blurred her eyes as Rosemary looked to the white featureless shape of the rising sun, "I want this to be true! I want a second chance! If Vanderdecken might serve, why not I?"

A gangway was laid. Rosemary wasted no time disembarking, wiping her eyes with the hem of her dress as she hurried past the sailors. On the pier, she considered abandoning her mission, to deprive Trickett of his merriment. 'No, I'd better carry on with this mad chase. In the case Trickett is right, I'd not miss such a communion for the world!'

Lost in her thoughts, she paused along the seaport landing to watch the high windows of Vahevala flicker to life as the city awoke. On this chilly fall morning, the past and the present seemed to merge into a single indistinguishable blur. Rosemary's mind began to drift, not unlike Vanderdecken's ghostly ship. 'I want it to be true.'

Behind her, Ibiza and Allomere also pondered the shape of the past as the hawk marveled at seeing Vahevala from this classical vantage. It was at once familiar, and yet foreign, with it's distinctive hills that ringed the city, but gone were the modern buildings. Glancing up, he became surprised by fancy silver lighting that'd replaced the old city lamps. Rosemary herself paused to examine the row of electrical lights that formed a circle of steel in the early morning fog. 'No, I don't much care for these. Give me the warm glow of an oil lamp.'

With a final glance at the gently humming lights, she left the city center and sought out the freight yard. Walking just behind, Allomere continued his examination of the equine wraith, as Rosemary carried on, oblivious to the time-travelers as she traded words with her unseen companion.

'Cursed horse! I'd throttle the sod if he had a head made of meat! How dare he lie to me!' She grit her teeth, 'Though if it's true, and the sea captain means to serve the dragons, what of me? What of my plight!? If he might serve, why not I?'

A light rain began to fall. Allomere shivered, "Are we supposed to be cold?" Ibiza risked letting some of her body heat radiate out. "How is that?" "You're really warm," Allomere noted, "Can you breathe fire?"

"I hope not," Ibiza chuffed. Ahead, Rosemary Barter arrived at the edge of town and entered the railway yard. The sounds of shunting trains ringing and rumbling came to Allomere through the grey rain curtain. "She's going to hop a train," Allomere said, "Come on, we'd better catch up to her."

It was almost impossible to distinguish the white wraith through the gloom. Even Ibiza experienced some difficulty. At length, the pair found the mare crouched within an open freight car. Ibiza glanced at Allomere, and then grasped him with her paws and lifted him into the car. She hopped in after him. Huddled a few feet from the white mare, Allomere studied her closely. "What are your thoughts?" Ibiza asked.

Without his notebook to sketch in, Allomere was left to twitch his foot as his mind wrestled with Rosemary's enigma. "Okay, I think she is crazy, but she's being driven crazy by her circumstance." He glanced at the dragon, "You follow?"

She nodded. "I think she is hearing someone or something speaking to her," Allomere continued, "Do you think there's any way to tap into her mind and see what she's experiencing?" Ibiza shook her head, "I can't read any of the animals here. I think it's because we're separated from this moment. We're in our own little pocket dimension, and it prevents me from reading things from the environment."

Allomere shook his toes, "Walking here from downtown certainly put a hurting on my feet. It sure feels like we're really here."

"How much longer is he going to keep me like this?" Rosemary muttered. Ibiza cupped her paw to her chest, "Aw, she's really suffering." Allomere noted her empathetic response. 'That's a good sign.'

The train lurched forward. The car rocked from side to side as it began to move. The animals became quiet as they gazed out of the open cargo hatch and took in the desolate majesty of the high northern landscape. Departing Vahevala, the train passed many red and blue lights that signaled to the other trains that rumbled past. Moving out into the open plains, the winter rains beat down upon their car.

"I hope this contraption is going north," Rosemary muttered. Allomere glanced at his ankle phone. To his surprise, it still had a signal. "My phone is still active."

"Your body is still at Mayalee's home." Ibiza murmured, "You could probably made a call if you wished to." He clacked his mandible, and opened the anklet's face plate to reveal a small screen. Tapping it, he activated the compass feature. "Yeah, we're going north west." He called out to Rosemary, "We are going north!" The mare's ears twitched. Ibiza glanced sharply at the horse. 'First Mayalee, and now Rosemary seems to have heard a visiting time traveler.'

"Leave me alone, Glorafin," Rosemary croaked, "Is it not enough that your brother torments me?"

"Wait, did she hear us?" Allomere asked. Ibiza cupped her paw over him, "From now on, let us keep our voices down." The pair said nothing more as the sun sank low into the sky. Soon it was night, and Rosemary lay down upon the floor, but she did not sleep. She lay with her blue-grey eyes staring up into the gently rocking ceiling, looking for all the world like an animal who had died with their eyes open.

"I think we should go back," Ibiza said, "The corridor will reunite us with Rosemary when next we venture here."

Allomere found himself back in Sam's home. He sat up, as Ibiza uncoiled her long tail. Stretching like a wild creature, Ibiza bumped her snout to Allomere's wing. "Thank you for your assistance."

"I definitely want to go back," he said, and as Sam and Mayalee appeared at the door, Allomere gestured to them. "We need to talk!"

At the kitchen table, Allomere pressed the familiars for information. "Okay, this horse is being punished? What did she do?" "She, uh, ordered the killings of many animals." Mayalee replied, though her guilty expression and downcast eyes made Allomere think that the alleged charge against Rosemary might not be entirely her fault. "I want you to go back with me," Allomere said, "I want you to see the pitiful state this horse is existing in."

"Such was my fate," Herald said, entering the kitchen. "Kromhaut imprisoned me aboard my vessel for a thousand years, a far shorter indenture than Rosemary has been forced to endure."

"What did you do?" Timothy asked. Herald retreated to the parlor and grasped one of Mayalee's record albums with his beak. Returning to the kitchen, Herald set it down on the table. "The Flying Mantuan Opera?" Allomere asked. Herald nodded, "I am the figure central to the story. My name was not always 'Kirsten,' but Vanderdecken. I am The Flying Mantuan."

Allomere sat in stunned silence as his mind wrestled with the outrageous claim. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He glanced at Herald, "You mean, that story is real?"

"All stories possess a central truth," Herald replied, "Mine is a cautionary tale, a tragic story of what might befall an animal who victimizes others." Allomere gazed at the record album, with it's illustration of a ship, the Mantuan Exeter, cashing through a tumultuous sea. The opera's theme rang in his head, and for a moment he thought he might faint. "Wow, you're more freaked out about Herald's identity than you were meeting me," Ibiza opined, feeling strangely flattered.

"Will you guys please tell me if there's anymore outrageous shit you haven't yet told me about?" Allomere asked. Sam scratched his head, "Ever heard of Karl Kuhn?" Allomere raised his head, "No, don't even tell me you're him." The lion chortled, "Heh, sorry! Though I suppose being a notorious traitor to one nation makes you a hero in another."

Allomere clacked his mandible, "Alright, mouse," he said to Mayalee, "What's your big reveal?" "Nothing, really. Once I left my mother's home, I was a sunflower farmer for ten years. After that, I just became an undead mouse who talks to an invisible friend."

"Who imprisons animals in terrible places," Allomere noted. He gestured with his wing, "You're coming back to see this horse, I want you to see what your invisible friend is doing to her." Mayalee shrugged. Allomere scowled at her, then nodded to Ibiza, "Okay, time to go back."

Once the travelers were situated, they found themselves on a desolate gravel path. Grey clouds weighed heavily upon the land, prompting Mayalee to tuck herself beneath Allomere's wing. In the distance, a white figure moved at breakneck speed. "Climb up," Ibiza said to Mayalee, plucking her up with her paws and depositing her on Allomere's back. "Uh, I've never carried a passenger before."

"She cannot be harmed, remember? So if she falls off, she won't be injured."

Mayalee flicked her whiskers, 'It still hurts.' Up ahead, Rosemary was relieved that she'd made it to the modest township of Sanvean before noon. This odd berg was a place she'd always felt comfortable, it was a neutral territory that harbored no painful memories. 'I see the wolves have allowed other folk into their midst, I suppose the world is indeed changing.'

Desperate to shake the oppressive feeling that she was being watched, she made for the local main street. The streets seemed more crowded than she remembered, and it was abundantly obvious which buildings catered to which sort of animal. Wolves favored tall narrow structures with small windows. Rosemary recoiled at the garish colors of the lupine homes. Naturally color-blind, the wolves must've not realized how their homes would appear to their neighbors.

Horses preferred wide airy buildings with large doors. Rosemary nodded approvingly at the graceful shapes of their homes, with their natural earth-tone colors and accents. That's important. Horses are very grounded to the land. Now, to the rabbits and mice! They favored bright splashes of color! Their homes resembled small cylinders, each embellished with wood-carved leaves and flowers. By all accounts their homes should be as garish as the wolven abodes, but somehow, the little folk made it work.

Their homes were adorable!

Passing a small school, Rosemary noted an elderly equine teacher. She paused, then stood to stare at the tall grey horse as she addressed her class. Rosemary reached up to trace her fingers across her long muzzle, then down along her elegant cheek bones. Like a blind animal who uses their fingers to see the world, Rosemary formed a mental image of her own face. 'She looks like me. We could be sisters, this learner and I.'

The teacher wore a gleaming white dress emblazoned with colorful daisies and whimsical honey bees. Rosemary looked down upon her own pale white gown, then indulged in the fantasy of leading a class of youngsters. "W-welcome, students."

Ibiza drew near, her black featureless eyes shimmering with emotion as Rosemary took note of the learner's desk, with it's stacks of books and gifts of apples. There was a brass name plate emblazoned with the name: 'Madeline Greenfield.'

The kindly teacher smiled to her class, and they returned an adoring glow. "Look how they love her! They could love me!" Rosemary cried, but her cawing voice broke into a gasping sob. Rosemary reached up to touch her dry, cracked lips. She attempted to smile, but could only grimace. "Do you see her?" Allomere said to Mayalee, "I've never seen someone more sad."

In the classroom, a little wolf child reached out to hug Madeline as she walked past, then with a lovely nicker and a clap of her hands, she called her class to order. The image of the school blurred away from Rosemary as tears wet her eyes, "How long must I remain like this!? How much longer shall I suffer!"

She turned about and hurried away, "In my day millions loved me! I do not need the adoration of a room full of clingy brats!"

The trio watched Rosemary hurry away. Allomere and Ibiza cast Mayalee a stern glance. "What? I didn't do this to her." "Don't you talk to the guy who did this?" Allomere asked. "Yeah, but he doesn't listen to me."

"Perhaps he will listen to me," Ibiza breathed.

Outside of town, the former cult leader collapsed in a drainage culvert. Sobbing hysterically, she'd all but abandoned her quest. When the trio found her, the grey stallion sat holding Rosemary. Ibiza watched as he gently rocked her, whilst Rosemary pressed her muzzle to his chest and wept. He smiled to Ibiza and seemed to beckon her closer, as Mayalee looked on in wonderment. "I'm letting her have a good cry," he said, "This will help heal some of her trauma, but she won't have any memory of me."

"I'm sure your dragon friend will like that." He said to Mayalee. "He's cautious," she replied, "Kromhaut never wants to see something like Rosemary's cult, ever again."

"Who are you?" Allomere asked. The other smiled, "My name is Shelton Barter." Mayalee gasped, as Allomere tapped his toes upon the soil, "Barter? Isn't that Rosemary's name?" "It is," Shelton said, "Rosemary is my mother, at least on another world."

Ibiza leaned back on her haunches, "So, you do come from somewhere else." He nodded, "We all do, Ibiza. And I can see what you're thinking, but it's up to you to find your own path and make your own mistakes. That's how you learn to be your own person."

"Will everything turn out okay?" Ibiza asked. "That depends on what you're hoping to achieve," Shelton said with a wink, "But, I'm not here to spoil your story, I'm just here to comfort my mom, because it breaks my heart to see her like this." He cast Mayalee an accusing glance.

"She mentioned she is suffering," Allomere said, "Is she mentally ill?" "She's trapped in the spirit world, but she's alive and hurting." Shelton said. He looked to Ibiza, "When you get home, you can free her from Kromhaut's confinement. You can begin to heal her, and help her to become the animal who will someday be my mother."

"Rosemary hates dragons," Mayalee said. Shelton kissed his mother's forehead, "I wonder why?"

Ibiza opened her maw to ask a question, but Shelton'd vanished. Rosemary gently lay back upon the rocky ground, as if invisible hands were cradling her head. She softly gasped, then opened her eyes. Rubbing her nose, she sat up. Then, with a purposeful tug upon the hem of her dress she continued her trek.

"Oh, I need to go north," she muttered, "I am currently traveling south." She turned about and continued on, leaving Allomere and Ibiza looking after her. "What now?" Allomere asked. "Let's follow her just a bit longer." Ibiza said.

With Sanvean behind them, the rocky bluffs fell away, revealing the brooding ocean. The heavy scent of salty air filled Rosemary's nostrils, though her senses were dulled by her confinement within the spirit world. She gazed out toward the vast expanse of blue-green water, as the road she followed hugged the jagged coast. Just then, several wild animals darted from a thicket and crossed the road ahead of her. They were oblivious to the wraith's presence, but not to the gentle wheeze of a motor car.

Sensing the familiar's presence, Rosemary was honestly surprised, 'Trickett knew, how very interesting.' She gathered her gown about her and raised her hand, 'I say, won't you offer this old nag a ride?'

Her thoughts went out to the approaching motor car. An anxious moment passed when no reply was forthcoming, 'It's a good sign! The mouse might say yes!'

She hoped the dragon's animal familiars would take pity on her and offer her a lift. Understand, Rosemary is not like a normal ghost, who after some practice might master flight. As Shelton said, this phantom horse is not technically dead, and so she remains forever grounded.

When the mouse's reply did come, Rosemary's smile died away. 'You know I cannot do that. You are being punished, remember?'

'Oh please, might I be allowed a temporary reprieve on the eve of this momentous occasion?'

Genivee Tin made no reply, but after a moment her mate's gentle voice chimed in, 'I'm sorry, besides, this is supposed to be a secret meeting.'

Rosemary lowered her hand as the familiar's car passed her by. It receded into the distance and then disappeared into the mist. The nervous Chippewa natives emerged from their hiding places. The wild equines thought motor cars to be unnatural and frightening, 'You may be right,' Rosemary whispered, falling in beside a particularly handsome stallion as he conversed with his fellows in their dying language. 'Soon your people will be gone, assimilated by the modern world.'

Her face became twisted by an inner turmoil, 'Soon you'll find yourselves huddled in a dingy flat, while your neighbors shout at one another all day!!'

She crumpled to the pavement as the equines left her behind. Weeping and whimpering, Rosemary Barter gently rocked back and forth, "Oh, my gentle grandfather! It's all my fault! I should have listened to you! This is all my fault! All mine!"

In the car, Karl Kuhn shook Rosemary's anguished thoughts from his mind. The lion looked to his mate, "I'm not leaving her like that."

"Karl, no-" the mouse said, though she made no further argument as Karl turned the car around. On the road, Rosemary'd sank into a near catatonic state. The travelers stood over her, with Mayalee shaking her head in confusion, "I have almost no memory of this day. I can't remember passing Rosemary on the road."

Sam's past self leapt from the car and hurried to the wraith. "Rosemary!" She blinked to find the tall lion standing over her, "Okay, come on.... you can tag along."

Trembling, she reached out her hand. Allomere and Mayalee watched Karl help Rosemary up and guide her to the car. "Hurry, we need to go!"

Perched atop the passenger seat, a frowning grey mouse issued a half-hearted wave. Rosemary smiled to the mouse, then settled into the back seat. Karl took his place at the driver's wheel, then glanced back at the wraith, "It'd be best if you kept quiet, alright?"

She nodded, aware that Karl'd likely won a hard-fought battle to allow her to ride along. Karl pulled a lever on the center console of the steam-powered car. With a low whistle it lurched forward and began to move. A puff of steam rose up from the floorboards, piquing Rosemary's interest as she listened to the vehicle's ticking and whirring. "I say, is this contraption safe?"

Genivee leaned over the back of her seat to glare at the horse. Rosemary issued a nervous laugh, "Isn't the ocean lovely?" She glanced out the window to admire the deep dark sea, "Y'all know that's Eternity's Crossing out there, hmm?" She said, adopting the persona of a rural Midlander.

"Rosemary, you're from Hull. Stop talking like that!"

The elderly horse settled down, yet her eyes remained restless. She fixed her gaze on the treacherous sea lane known as Eternity's Crossing, "Why is it called thus?" She'd once asked her bizarre sailor friend.

"Because it takes an eternity to traverse it."

She smiled at the memory, idly wondering if Clint Trickett would avail himself to greet his old captain. "Why would Vanderdecken willingly choose a path of living death?" She asked, speaking this time as a learned northerner.

Genivee scowled at the mare, but Rosemary was oblivious to the mouse's displeasure. Lost in her thoughts, Rosemary supposed that the captain would be used to existing as such, since, whilst trapped aboard his vessel, he was neither living nor dead. Less of a who, and more of a what... 'Like myself.'

"What shall become of this eagle? This Flying Mantuan? Shall his burden be eventually lifted?"

"Quiet," Genivee chuffed, her voice suddenly deep and harsh. Rosemary saw the burning embers deep inside Genivee's eyes that warned of the dragon's presence. Rosemary opened her mouth to chastise the creature, but clapped it shut. 'This is the closest you've been to Kromhaut since the elder days! Don't bollox it!'

North the company traveled, up up and up. The wheezy motor car became buffeted by fierce winds which carried surf and spray across the long bonnet of Karl's automobile. Rosemary thought it appropriate that the car had become a kind of Flying Mantuan, bearing them to a grim spiritual prison. "The poor fool! He thinks he's obtaining a pardon!!"

"Stop the car!" The dragon roared through his mouse, "Stop, I say!"

Karl thought the dragon intended to throw Rosemary out along the road. Instead, Genivee leapt from the vehicle before Karl could even set the brake. The pair watched Genivee hurry along the road, then turn off toward a secluded rocky shoal. Karl glanced back, "Rosemary, stay here!"

She grasped at his arm, "Before you go, tell me that I might find peace! Please allow me to serve an indenture, so that I might purchase my freedom!"

"I'm sorry, Rosemary."

He slipped away to hurry after the mouse. Trembling, Rosemary lay for a time, staring at the cabin's finely upholstered ceiling until, gripped by her own paranoia, the vehicle began to pitch and roll, not unlike Vanderdecken's infamous ghost ship. "No! If this eagle might find grace, so shall I!"

Rosemary tumbled from the car to hurry after the familiars, whilst the winds continued to blow. The howling gale lashed at her gown, and battered her face. It threatened to rip the very flesh from her bones, but the pain mattered not. "If you will not be merciful, then to hell with you! Go there and rot, Kromhaut! Oh, how I hate you!!"

Now the winds howled with all of the dragon god's fury. Rosemary was lifted into the air and carried away, but from her now lofty vantage she caught a glimpse of the shore, where a hulking black eagle emerged from the surf, bearing a battered ship's wheel in his maw.

• The Sparks of an Ancient Light - by Chris Sawyer, 2021