Serial Saturday: "The Last Inkweaver" Part 2

Part 2

"Compost and Consequences"

I saw the lines of students flowing from one classroom to another, and felt a rush of relief. I wasn't late for my next class until I heard the bell. I joined a file of Level 9 students headed toward the Science classrooms. I liked having Science after History, because the instructor, Madame Hephreny, was infinitely more interesting than Scholar Mikel--and she was certainly not as adamant about students taking specific notes and never bringing up questions in class. For all his touting of the "scientific method", I couldn't help feeling that, judging by the teaching methods, actual science seemed very much more of a lax subject than history was!

I took my place behind a small table with a row of plants laid out upon it. Beside me, a new student fiddled with the stems--something Madame Hephreny had warned us time and again that we were never to do. I couldn't blame her though; her family had just moved to Mirrorvale, and by "just", I meant "back when I was young, and she barely a toddling." There were a lot of families like mine, who had lived in Mirrorvale for generations, and so anybody who couldn't claim that was regarded as "new" and such a reputation was very hard to outlive.

I suppose the other reason I still considered her "new" was that I hardly knew her. I learned from attendance that her name was Sheranne; she'd only just attained Level 9 in Science, and she was still at a lower level for many other classes, so there weren't very many places we could interact.
WHAP.

I flinched along with everybody else as Madame Hephreny's long pointer slapped across the table in front of Sheranne. Her curly golden hair bounced in time with her movements.

"Students should not be touching the items on their desk without direction," Madame declared in her customary sing-song voice. "Please listen and follow directions while you are in my class!"

Sheranne colored bright vermillion, and hid her face at the gentle reprimand. The students who had been in this classroom for many seasons snickered at her embarrassment. We'd all experienced it at one time or another. I didn't laugh. We moved on through the lesson, on the concept of photosynthesis and the correlation between chlorophyll and sunlight, its effect on plants, and the various creatures involved in the life processes of plants.

Madame Hephreny calmly read through the textbook, directing us in the dissection of the various flowers and leaves before us--until she came to the topic near the end of the lesson. At her direction, a pair of assistants brought in a putrid bucket of what could only be described as sludge of varying consistency. Most of us held our noses. Sheranne covered her face.

"Now we arrive at an extremely important part of a plant's life cycle. Ordinarily, a plant that has been used and consumed is considered waste, as are the bits that cannot be consumed--but that, my dears, is not the end!" She set aside the book and eagerly plunged her bare hands into the bucket. We all heard the squelch. I noticed Sheranne start to tremble beside me, wavering on her feet.

"Behold," Madame Hephreny held up a mound of black and blue goop in her hands, "Compost!"

I heard the noise Sheranne made, saw the splatter hit the floor--and the whole classroom dissolved into chaos. Younger students screamed, some boys jeered, and poor Sheranne--vomit all down her dress, looking like she wanted to faint.

Madame Hephreny stood at the front of the classroom, eyes wide, doing her best to try and raise her voice over the clamor as her hands full of compost rendered her immobile. She did her best, but everyone was all over the place, crying, and laughing and yelling.

A ringing bell arrested everyone's attention, and we all faced the front, where an assistant held the brass bell Madame Hephreny kept at the front of the class for emergencies. She let the pile of compost drop, as the other assistant brought a towel.

"You are all dismissed!" she said, rushing over to Sheranne. The poor girl's face was pale, and she quaked from head to toe.

"B-but the bell hasn't rung--" Someone started to protest.

"I don't care!" Madame Hephreny's voice had lost its songlike quality. She waved her arm at all of us. "Get out of this classroom this instant! I have nothing more to say to you all!"

We all filed miserably into the empty hallway. The other classrooms were filled with students still--until that bell rang and we could shift classes, the whole group had nothing to do.

Well, everyone who wasn't me, that is.

I pulled out Scholar Mikel's permission slip, and headed down the hallway toward the south wing, where the library was located. I passed by the Etiquette classrooms on the way--a Level 8 group was just arriving at the door. My eyes immediately focused on a certain head of dark hair, and I felt a smile and a warmth spreading over my face before I could stop it. Of course I stared too long, and just as I passed, the dark head turned to face me, and the clear blue eyes smiled.

How much had changed in only four seasons! I hardly believed I was looking at the same Matthias I had known almost all my life.

There was once a time when we were inseparable: me, Matthias, and our friend Terra Jonsyn. We grew up together, joined Academy together, and it felt like it had only been since achieving Level 9 in all my classes that I stopped seeing Matthias so frequently. At least Terra and I still spent time at each other's houses outside of Academy, but Matthias, I barely saw at all, except at social events. Lately, I'd depended on hearing from my mother's reports of the latest news from the neighborhood gossip grapevine--but now here he was again, looking every inch the eligible young man, training to become a competent tradesman like his father.

I recovered myself as I rounded the corner and approached the library door. 

Why am I suddenly beset by nerves? I asked myself. I have permission to be here. I'm not skulking about like some rebellious young--

"Callista!"

For the second time, the sound of my name interrupted my own thoughts, but this time, a slender hand landed on my shoulder.
I knew exactly who it was. Without turning around, I pushed the hand off.

“Let me guess,” I turned to face the owner of said hand. “You skipped Etiquette again?”

Terra Jonsyn, a spunky redhead with deep dimples, unruly hair and far too many freckles, rolled her sparkling blue eyes at me. “It’s so boring! I know how to be courteous and how to not make a fool of myself in social gatherings, why should it matter which fork I use to eat my entree with, or which corner of the napkin I use to wipe my mouth?”

I sighed and shook my head. There was plenty of inspiration for the nickname “Tearaway Terra” that she had earned for herself; she pursued life with reckless abandon, and it was that very recklessness that frequently got her into trouble.

"Well, be that as it may," I murmured as she jigged to the soft strains of music issuing from the Dance classroom, "I hope you don't get into too much trouble before the next class. Too much idle time can lead to some unintended consequences." Particularly for someone as curious and brazen as Terra! I thought to myself.

I turned away and handed my permission slip to the Senior Archivist in charge of the library.
When I glanced over my shoulder, Terra still stood beside me, a stunned expression on her face. "Callista!" she breathed. "How did you get permission to go to the library?"

I shrugged, wanting to make as light of the situation as possible, here in the hallway. "Special assignment for History class." I turned back to the doors as the Archivist swung them open for me, and Terra grabbed my wrist.

"Can I come with you?" she begged.

The two of us were friends, but most people, from watching us, felt that our personalities couldn't be more opposite. I was methodical and straightforward; she had far too much energy than was considered proper for a lady, and she tended to err on the scatterbrained side. I could be content with focusing on one single task for an extended period, while Terra required considerably more active involvement and thrived with rapid changes in pace. She tended to seek me out and follow me around whenever our paths crossed, but I could usually deter her by heading somewhere she didn't want to go, or get settled into some mundane task until she wandered off out of sheer boredom, leaving me to pursue my own agenda in peace.

Today, I could tell, was not going to be one of those days.

I shook my head and tried to pull away. "No, Terra--the permission slip was for myself only. They don't just let--"

"Please? I could help you!"

"I don't need help--"

"Are you going in or not?" The Archivist cut short our little tug-of-war, staring down his nose at me.
The more I argued with Terra, the less time I had for doing the research I needed. The aggravating girl had put me in a spot where I had no choice.

"All right, come on!" I said, and the two of us followed the Archivist together.

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Serial Saturday: "The Last Inkweaver" Part 1

Part 1

"Lessons In History"

A gust of wind caught the edges of my cloak, even as I pulled it closer around me on my way toward the large Academy building. The class bell tolled loudly over my head as I entered the foyer, and I picked up my pace through the hallways, to the History classroom. I joined the file of students similarly garbed in thick robes over their clothes. The last Waning of Greyfrost still kept a chill in the air, although not much snow had fallen this season.

I sank into my seat and pulled out the pencil and the bound book of parchment pages we used to take notes during all the lectures. Scholar Mikel stood behind the podium at the front, flanked by a chalkboard on one side, where an assistant created an outline of all his points, which we were expected to copy and memorize, and a large map of Gramble on the other. A royal crest in the eastern region marked where the capital, Gramble City, stood, and a scattering of other large cities beyond it, marked with simple turrets or stars. The Fforgan Mountain Range sliced through our portion of the continent like a billowing sash, from northwest to southeast, and all the region west of the mountains had were only a few turret "cities" and mostly simple houses denoting smaller villages--and at the extreme westernmost edge, separated from the other towns by a wide swath of empty space, was my hometown, Mirrorvale.

"Today, I will read from the Chronicles of Exploration," he said, prompting a flurry of rustling parchment as everyone turned to the appropriate pages in their note books. At The Academy, the instructors functioned under the truism, “Those who do not study history are doomed to repeat it.”

Of course, it couldn’t possibly apply to any place as dull and predictable as Mirrorvale. Here, repetition was a way of life, as natural as the weather.

I focused on the map as Scholar Mikel droned on the same dreary passages about the colonization efforts of King Phillisto, who was responsible for turning Gramble from a single enclosed city into a power state comprised of many walled cities and covering most of Western Hemptor.

I had only managed to record a few lines of notes when, in the middle of his recitation, I blinked and my eyes saw something other than the classroom.

"Not again..." I whispered to myself as a second image usurped what was right in front of me.

It occurred as naturally as a thought, or a memory. One moment, I was watching the portly instructor with his wavy silver hair, round glasses, and brocade vest reading from the thick book on the lectern. In the next breath, I watched soldiers storm into houses and push people out of them. I saw whole villages cleaned out, the people loaded into large wagons, and taken away, leaving the buildings empty, hollow, and ready to collapse.

I took a deep breath and concentrated on listening for Scholar Mikel's voice.

"... The process of incorporating the small, scattered settlements throughout the vast western lands was not an easy one, but King Phillisto developed an effective method of convincing the indigenous population to move into the fortified cities."

I blinked in horror at the stream of text now covering half the chalkboard. How long had I been in the throes of a memory that wasn't even mine? I gripped my pencil and commenced scribbling as fast as I could to get all the notes copied down. If I failed the the exams due to insufficient or inaccurate information, I didn't want to imagine what that would do to my grades!

The whole time, the sounds from the image-scene haunted me--whinnying horses, crying children, and shouting soldiers echoed in my ears.

I finished the last line as the Scholar arrived at his next point. Industrial Factories Established, wrote the scribe.

"That method was the development of industrial factories which mass-produced everything Gramble's citizens needed, from foodstuffs, clothes, and furniture, to houses and even entire neighborhoods. If it could be made, the factories made it, and distributed it to specially-organized Factory Markets in every town."

Factories produced everything, I wrote. Mass-manufactured goods distributed via Markets. Quality control = safety and equality guaranteed.

An itch developed behind my eye. I blinked several times, and did my best to keep writing. Specialty products deemed unnecessary. Ability to reach more people served to bolster humanitarian efforts of the Crown.

I blinked again--and instead of my parchment-book on my desk, I saw a crowd of people streaming toward a Factory Market building. As they moved, I saw another structure beside the large building, a smaller booth. Under the colorful tent, a strange woman called out in an unintelligible voice, holding up her blankets and waving to a pewter tea set on display. Not one person stopped by her, and I saw a pair of soldiers march across the street and begin shouting at her, tearing the blanket and kicking over her tiny stand.

They were going to hurt her--I felt myself hurtling forward, heard my voice shouting at the soldiers as I reached out to get the crowd's attention to the injustice happening right in front of them--

"Callista?"

I returned to the present with a deep gasp, and a shudder that shook my whole body.

Scholar Mikel had stopped reading, and now he fixed his gaze on me, not saying anything. The entire lecture hall had fallen silent. Everyone looked at me.

Feeling returned to my limbs, and I realized that I had my hand stretched up in the air, like a confused student drowning in a sea of information.

Scholar Mikel uttered the words no student--least of all one who had been attending the Academy for as long as I had--wanted to hear.

"Do you have a question?"

Just the idea of it drove the power of speech from my mind. I had interrupted a Scholar in the middle of a lesson! What was I thinking? What could I do now, to save myself from this embarrassing situation?

Ask, the voice in my head urged.

I opened my mouth, frantically searching for a query that would demonstrate an appropriate level of comprehension.

"Do not be afraid, Callista," Scholar Mikel assured me as the class began to whisper to each other over my hesitation. "Inquisitive minds deserve answers, and it is by filling in the gaps in our own understanding that we increase our intelligence."

The question... "These natives you referred to," I began, finding my voice at last, "the ones indigenous to the land that is now the nation of Gramble--are these the ones known as Wordspinners?"

All whispers died. I felt the burning horror of the stares around me--but it wasn't as if I'd said a bad word! I hastened to flip back in my parchment-book, to an earlier lecture Scholar Mikel had given.

Meanwhile, the esteemed Scholar took advantage of the delay to deliver his explanation. "Some would call them 'word-spinners', yes--but that term isn't even in use any more, as Gramble's Golden Age of Reform brought such advancements in philosophy and intellectual fortitude in general, that the archaic beliefs in a nebulous absolute faded into oblivion, and the Wordspinners and their kind were lost to history long ago."

I found the page and traced my finger down the text as the students around me scribbled down this extra information.

"Here it is," I said, reading from the page. "In a previous lesson, sir, you said that the ones known as Wordspinners were merely a guild of crafters and artisans, and that the reason they declined was because of the advent of Factory Markets, and the fact that people were more inclined to purchase from the mass-produced goods in season and out of season, rather than hand-made merchandise and locally-grown produce that was only available on a limited basis."

A few other students flipped back in their books, as I had read this description verbatim from a Level 7 lesson. I looked up at the teacher--his face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes fixed on me with a heated stare.

"Something you should understand, Callista," Scholar Mikel spoke with a dangerous calm to his voice, "is that the Academy prides itself on accurate, necessary information. That means that the material is tailored to what a student at each level would need to know. At Level 5, the student need not even know that this primitive group of pagans were known as Wordspinners. I presume you are speaking based on your Level 7 notes--and at that level, students are expected to know that yes, Wordspinners existed, but here," he swept his arm to indicate the entire lecture hall. "At Level 9, you have been made aware of the fact that these were not just simple crafters and gardeners, but insubordinate rebels who objected to any outside influence for purely religious reasons." He closed the book and let his words hang over us.

The murmur rippled through the classroom, and could guess the topic of whispered conversation among desk neighbors. A heat rose in my cheeks as I felt their surreptitious stares, how the Scholar's gaze fixed on me, who dared call him out in the middle of a lesson, and try to confuse his own words. Was that really what I wanted to do? What more of an explanation did I need, than the one he gave?

The bell tolled high over our heads. Scholar Mikel closed the book on his lectern, and his assistants began wiping down the massive slate behind him. "This concludes today's lesson," he announced. "We will resume at the next Level 9 History period." He waved us all out of the room.

I gathered my materials and filed into line with the students around me, my mind full of dread as I replayed the whole class period in my mind, wondering what went wrong, and what else I could have said that would have brought a different outcome. The trouble was, there was only one other alternative that I could see.

"Callista." The sound of my name before I'd even reached the door of the lecture hall brought me and a few other students in my immediate vicinity to a halt. Scholar Mikel stood with his eyes trained directly on me. The others shuffled out of my way as I moved to stand on the floor before him. We might have been the same height--he wasn't a very tall man--but he still stood on the elevated dais at the front of the classroom, so he loomed head and shoulders over me, his disapproving frown weighing me down even further.

"Would you care to explain your behavior today, Callista?" he asked, as the last few students filed out of the room behind me. He folded his hands behind his back. "In all my years as Scholar, I have prided myself in ensuring against misinformation, and you--nine academic levels, nearly ten fourseasons, and not once have you spoken out like you did today. Why?"

I opened my mouth, willing some semblance of an idea to come forth. It seemed that words would just pour out of me sometimes, at inopportune moments, and yet now, when I very literally had the floor--

Nothing.

"I--"

Scholar Mikel pursed his lips and clicked his tongue. "Something you must learn, Callista, as you are set to graduate from your Academy studies, is the virtue of sufficient evidence. If you are going to challenge the accepted view of something, you must put in the research first, so that you have the proof you need to validate your point. Perhaps the evidence is there--or perhaps it is in the course of trying to prove your hypothesis that you find information to the contrary, and it is your view that must change, not the historical records."

He turned to the long table with all his teaching materials and began writing on a piece of parchment. Was he recommending that I repeat the level, to ensure that his version of these lessons really stuck this time? Was he writing the Headmaster to decline my graduation because of insubordination? Was it really all that bad that I had expressed a dissenting point of view?

I gulped, took a huge gasp, and blurted, "I'm sorry, Scholar!"

"Oh?" Scholar Mikel looked up, a smile on his face and the parchment in hand. "Never fear, Callista--it is not an apology I seek. Merely that next time, I would like you to be better informed." He handed me the parchment.

"Permission for: Callista Rubinsyn; Location: Library; Material: Korstan Senevere And The Exploration of Western Hemptor

I stared at the title. The Library was normally off-limits to students, without either accompaniment by a Tutor, or written permission from a Scholar. "What is this, sir?" I asked.

"A special assignment, just for you," said Scholar Mikel. "Korstan Senevere was one of the first explorers sent out under King Malacuse--King Phillisto's predecessor--who, it is said, lived among a community of Wordspinners out in the wilds of Western Hemptor, and chronicled what he could understand of their daily lives, their practices, and the events leading up to their near-extinction. Perhaps there, you will find the information you seek, which I am so ill-prepared to deliver to your satisfaction."

He had lost his disapproving frown, and now smiled at me, although it didn't make me feel any better.

"You are assigning me an extra reading assignment?" I asked, fidgeting with the paper in my hand.

"More than that," Scholar Mikel answered with a nod. "I want you to write a report on your findings concerning these ancient natives known as Wordspinners. See if you can find a way to reconcile the material in my lesson that you found so objectionable today. This slip gives you permission to requisition the book from the Library Archives, and by the end of my Level 3 lesson tomorrow, I expect to see you back with your report in hand, to present to me your findings." He rapped his knuckles on the table. "That will be all, Callista."

I exited the room and took a deep breath. Some of the lecture halls could get quite stagnant, even in Greyfrost, but out in the hallway, a profusion of high windows and the open doors leading to the outside kept the fresh air flowing.

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Serial Saturday: "Fairies Under Glass" Part FINAL

Part 28

"One Last Encounter"

Lewis had only spent a few hours asleep when the ringing of Ashwyn's voice awakened him.

"Lewis!" She chimed, swirling around his face with her glowing wings. "It's time! The portal is opening, and once it's fully open, we must hurry to go through it before it closes again!"

The mere mention of it jogged the young man into action. He threw off his covers and scrambled for some clothes to wear instead of his pajamas. Once he was fully dressed, he opened the window and, supported by the fairies, climbed out of it to land on the grass.

The sky was just barely changing to pale purple on the horizon, so it was far earlier in the morning than he'd hoped, but at the same time the wee hour worked well for sneaking out without drawing too much attention. Behind him, Little Folk poured out of the window, the fairies taking to the sky while the elves scampered down to the ground like a trail of large ants.

Queen Evalia drifted forward and came to land on Lewis' shoulder. "Everyone's here," she informed him. "Let's go join the others."

Lewis headed for the bus stop, timing his arrival precisely. He stepped off the bus and entered the public park where Rawlings Point was located. His eyes scanned the top of the tree line for any sign of Lisa's massive silhouette, but there was no sign of her.

Beside him, Ashwyn delivered the latest update, "The portal is about halfway open by now. It will be fully open when the sun reaches its highest point."

Halfway open, and still no sign of his friends. Lewis reached the base of the outcropping, wondering why at least Gathlen hadn't come out to greet them. Had Krasimir beat him to the meeting spot? How did he know where it was?

A screech split the early-morning air, but it wasn't Kharrie's cry. Lewis looked up to see a black winged shape soar through the pink-clouded sky. The Chain around his neck alerted him to danger, and he realized he was looking at a huge vampire bat nearly the same size as a gryphon, with Krasimir Schlimme upon its back. The vile man wore his self-made Phantasmagyth around his neck, and by the rumbling sounds he heard, Lewis ascertained that a whole horde of Underworlders were charging through the forest toward him.

"It's a trap!" he yelled, sending the cloud of glowing fairies dispersing in all directions. They formed a sparkling protective barrier around their human guardian, attacking and repelling any ogre, goblin, or troll who tried to take a swipe at Lewis.

Meanwhile, Krasimir Schlimme taunted him from a tree branch overlooking the skirmish.

"So nice of you to come, Lewis," he chortled. "How commendable is your commitment to ze Feenvolk, zat you vould not even kvestion how a giant might be able to leafe you a note saying they'd succeeded in only a day, vhat you could not manage in a whole veek!" He cackled and raised his hands, and immediately all the Underworlders bellowed along with him. "But zey failed, and now you are here, vis only ze tiny fairies to defend you, just ripe for my clutches!" He willed the vampire bat off the branch and headed straight for Lewis.

The young man cringed, waiting for those savage claws to rip him apart--but instead of claws he felt a smooth, muscular shape jostle him, and a powerful whinny accompanied by a flash of red light. Lewis gasped as Gathlen stood in the middle of the throng, fending off the Underworlders with his silver hooves and jagged red horn. 

A howl rang through the early-morning air, and Adolf jumped into the fray, along with a few other werewolves. They lunged for Gathlen, surrounding him as the goblins and ogres backed off. Gathlen reared and let out a furious bellow, and with a cracking sound, Lisa rose out of the trees. Kharrie followed close behind, swooping in with talons and claws bared. 

Lewis scrambled backwards to get away from the werewolves, while one of them tried to jump on Gathlen's back. The unicorn bucked, flinging the werewolf into a nearby tree, and his powerful silver hooves stamped dangerously around the crouching wolves. He twisted and turned, giving no quarter and injuring several werewolves. Adolf rose up on his hind legs and tried to sink his teeth into Gathlen's neck, but the unicorn twisted his head and ducked, stabbing his horn into Adolf's unprotected flank. The werewolf snarled in pain.

Lisa started swatting aside great piles of goblins and ogres, while Kharrie bounded toward Lewis and allowed him to grab her ruff and swing himself onto her back. An enterprising goblin tried to attack Lewis with a rapier, but he caught the creature around the wrist, and Kharrie reached around with her beak to nip at its body. The goblin let go with a scream, leaving the rapier in Lewis' hand as Kharrie took to the skies. 

Huge trolls trudged in, trying to hem the battle in place with felled trees, but Lisa swept them aside as quickly as they could gather, smashing goblins like little beetles under her hands and feet.

Kharrie circled like she wanted to carry Lewis away to safety, but he tugged her ruff to direct her toward the vampire bat.

"We've got to get that Gyth off his chain!" he said.

Kharrie screeched and veered toward the creature, talons outstretched.

Krasimir raised the sword in his own hand, laughing at Lewis' feeble attempts to gain an advantage.
"Don't you see I am vinning zis battle?" he crowed. "Ze swords my army carries are poisoned vis ze venim nectar--just vonne touch and your fairy friends are infected!"

Lewis chanced a glance downward, and saw that it was true--he couldn't see as many twinkling lights flying around as he could before.

"No!" he gasped, and in that moment of distraction, the vampire bat struck. It flew very close to Kharrie, its claws nearly reaching Lewis, if the gryphon hadn't twisted away at the same moment. Lewis clung tight as Kharrie executed some intricate evasive maneuvers, twirling and tumbling through the air to try and shake off the persistent vampire bat.

"Don't bozzer trying to run, Lewis," Krasimir growled, brandishing his sword, "you vill not escape me zis time!" Just when he nearly reached Lewis, Kharrie launched straight upward and flipped upside-down. Lewis saw his head nearly touching Krasimir's, and he reached out his hand toward the man's chest. He felt something cold and hard, and he grabbed it as tightly as he could.

"Nein!" Krasimir yelled, and both the vampire bat and Kharrie screamed at the same time. 

Lewis didn't let go of the thing in his hand, but that meant that the vampire bat and the gryphon were in close quarters--close enough for the bat to sink its fangs into Kharrie's flank. Lewis felt her whole body shudder, and she began spiraling toward the ground. The grip of his knees slipped with the force of her fall, but he gripped the Chain at his neck and fought to bring his two hands close together. 

Krasimir had ceased shouting and was now actively choking, until finally Lewis felt something snap, and the hand holding the Gyth suddenly bore much less resistance. He held it against the Chain around his neck, and at once, the familiar magnetic pull brought the two pieces together. Kharrie stopped falling and flexed her wings in a burst of renewed strength, while every infected fairy rose up to rejoin the fray.

"Quick, Kharrie," Lewis instructed his mount, "we've got to find--"

Lewis didn't finish what he was saying before a savage pain lanced through his back, knocking him off Kharrie's back and into the open air, right into the clutches of the vampire bat just behind him. The beast grabbed him by the shoulders, hauling him into the air.

"Nein, du feindlich kind!" Krasimir screamed in German. "You vill gif me ze Gyth, or you vill die!"

Lewis winced at the pain he was experiencing, but he was too far away from anyone to receive help. He worked his grip on the rapier in his hand, aiming the point toward the round black body above him. It screamed and raked its claws down his back, throwing him up in the air where Krasimir reached out and grabbed his collar.

Lewis was too disoriented by the height to realize what the man was doing until he felt his grasp on the Phantasmagyth.

"Zis is mine!" Krasimir fumed.

Lewis saw Kharrie swoop in underneath him and tried to push away from Krasimir to grab onto her back, only to feel a small tug as he did so, and the empty Chain settle against his collarbone. The feeling of power emanating from the Phantasmagyth ended just as suddenly, and Lewis immediately looked up toward Krasimir, but the artist was swearing in German and staring toward the ground. The sunlight glinted off the Gyth as it fell toward the ground.

Both Lewis and Krasimir directed their beasts toward the spot where it landed, Lewis jumping down before Kharrie had touched the ground so he could get it first. Krasimir tried to do the same, allowing the vampire bat and the gryphon to viciously attack each other as the two humans vied for control. 

Krasimir hovered over the Gyth and was about to pick it up when Lewis, in a burst of desperation, tugged the Chain from around his neck and swung it toward the Gyth. It struck Krasimir across the back of the hand and he recoiled with a yelp of pain, while the loose end of the Chain reconnected with the Gyth, and Lewis could pull it back to himself and reconnect the Chain around his neck.

Krasimir raised his sword, but Lewis worked the tip of his rapier around and pierced the artist's wrist. The sword clattered to the ground as Krasimir's arm flopped limply to his side. Angrily, he reached toward Lewis with his other hand, but the young man pricked that arm with the rapier and it had the same effect. Try as he might, Krasimir couldn't touch Lewis. He tried kicking at him with his legs, but Lewis simply stepped back. He responded to the surge of power rushing through him from the Phantasmagyth and commanded, "STOP!"

Everything stilled in an instant. The Underworlders and Phantasmians alike froze in place.

Whoever holds the Phantasmagyth will have power over all living creatures of this world and the other, Lewis remembered Gathlen saying something like that. Then he recalled what Queen Evalia had said to him: Until we return to Phantasm, you are its Guardian...

"The fighting ends now," he announced to the crowd of creatures in front of him. "All you Underworlders, surrender to the Phantasmians!"

At once, every Underworlder threw down their sword, allowing the little folk to swarm over them and bind their hands. Lisa helped restrain the trolls, and as things calmed down Lewis saw Adolf taken prisoner. He scanned the battlefield. "Where is Gathlen?"

"Here I am!" called the strong voice, and the milky-white unicorn stepped into view.

Lewis removed the Phantasmagyth and held it out. "I believe this belongs to you, sir," he said.

Gathlen dipped his head to receive the gem, and it began to glow brighter than ever.

"The portal is opening!" Ashwyn's voice piped up from somewhere yonder.

The unicorn sauntered deeper into the forest, until he came to a very thick tree. Lewis watched him touch the tree with his horn, and a burst of energy coursed down the ruby-red channel and surrounded the trunk. It split right down the middle, and in the space between the sides of the trunk, a rippling view of another world could be seen.

"Phantasm!" Queen Evalia's voice resounded near him.

Lewis smiled at the Fairy Queen. "Go ahead," he said, "you and your kin have been waiting long enough."

With a cacophony that sounded like a chorus of sleigh bells, the Little Folk surged through the portal.

Once they were through, Gathlen announced, "The next ones through will be all the Underworlders. It is high time you returned from whence you came as well."

Kharrie and Lisa herded the prisoners through the portal, and Lewis watched as the moment they touched the soil of Phantasm, a great chasm opened up and dropped them all into the caves and underground passages where they belonged.

Kharrie only hesitated a little, turning to Lewis and bopping him with her head as she approached the portal. He stroked the top of her head, and she immediately stretched out her neck to allow him to wrap his arms around her in a hug. She gave a happy squawk, bounded through the portal, and was gone.

Lisa put her hand flat on the ground to lift Lewis up before her face, where great tears swelled in her eyes and dripped down her cheeks.

"You're the most amazing human I've ever met," she said softly. "I hope someday I can visit your world again and see more of it."

Lewis hugged her thumb and said, "If I ever get the chance to visit Phantasm, I hope we find each other and you can show me all the wonderful things your world has to offer, as well."

Lisa smiled in spite of her tears, and set Lewis back on the ground. The portal expanded to admit her stature, and she crawled through.

Now there were just three figures standing in front of the portal: Lewis, Gathlen, and the partially-paralyzed Krasimir. Gathlen nodded to Lewis. "You have done well, young human," he said. "I did not think this world could--Look out!"

Lewis was too focused on Gathlen's words to realize what was happening, but as the unicorn broke off with the warning, he turned his head to see Krasimir raising a knife sandwiched between his useless hands, aimed straight at Lewis' back! Lewis grabbed the rapier from beside him on the ground and aimed for Krasimir's left knee. It crumpled, and the knife fell from the former artist's grasp as he collapsed onto the ground.

Lewis turned back to Gathlen. "Thank you for the warning."

The unicorn nodded. "Once the Phantasmagyth passes through the portal, the effect of the venim should start to wear off. I recommend using some of the nets and ropes discarded by the Underworlders to bind him before he can attack you again."

"I will do that," said Lewis.

"Also," Gathlen continued, "speaking of the Phantasmagyth, bring me the false chain."

Lewis walked over to Krasimir, who did not even attempt to resist as Lewis lifted the chain from around his neck.

Gathlen directed him to place the chain upon a rock, and with his silver hooves the unicorn smashed the chain until not a single link remained intact. "Take up the pieces and toss them through the portal," he said.

Lewis swept every bit of that destroyed chain into his hand and flung it through the gap inside the tree. He could see it sparkle as it fell.

"No more will a human have dominion over Phantasm," said Gathlen, "but that does not mean we will continue to live as we were, in ignorance of humans. It has been an honor to know you and join you in defending your world, Lewis Grant. Tales of your courage and forthrightness will be spoken throughout Phantasm for many generations to come. We will not forget you."

Lewis felt his face flush, and he ducked his head. "Thanks; I feel the same about you," he mumbled.

Gathlen tossed his head. "It is time for me to leave. Once I have passed through the portal, it will close, and the connection between our world and yours will be severed." He bent his head over the Phantasmagyth, and Lewis heard a sharp clicking sound. When Gathlen raised his head again, something glinted between his teeth: a single link of the Phantasmagyth Chain. He dropped it into Lewis' hand and said, "In honor of your nobleness while you served as a temporary Guardian of the Phantasmagyth, I will allow you to keep this token of our gratitude."

Lewis grasped the smooth metal. Tears began to itch behind his eyes. The most amazing year of his life was coming to a close.

Gathlen turned toward the portal, looking back at Lewis one last time. "Farewell, Lewis Grant."
"Farewell, Gathlen," Lewis responded.

The unicorn entered the portal into Phantasm, and at once the tree began to fold back together, until the light of the portal died, and all that was left of the final confrontation was a torn-up clearing, a paralyzed gentleman, and Lewis.

He sighed and trudged over to the nearest bit of rope he could find. He wasn't that good at tying knots, but he figured he didn't really have much to worry about, now that Krasimir's access to Phantasm was cut off. He tied Krasimir's wrists together and propped him up against the tree.

The man began to blubber shamelessly. "You vill not leaf me here, ja? Vat vill I do, now zat my most important verk has been destroyed?"

Lewis stood back and stared at the man. "You're going to have a lot to answer for, both the damage to the house you were renting, and the fact that you can't keep up the Phantasmenagerie anymore. Once the paralytic wears off, you are free to try and escape the rope and contact anybody to help you go back to wherever you lived before you came to America, but I'm going to tell the security office at Browning Academy that you were the one who attacked my dorm, so you'd better not show your face around there ever again."

"But visout my art, I hef no money!" Krasimir complained, squirming against the tree. "How vill I afford transportation back to Germany?"

A small smile played around Lewis' lips. "You could get a job to raise funds for yourself. Try being a janitor somewhere, it's not so bad." He turned and walked back toward the entrance of the public park, leaving Rawlings Point behind.

He walked through the doors of Chester Hall with his stomach rumbling. It was nearly the middle of the day, and he hadn't had anything to eat! He crossed the threshold of the common area, headed for the hallway where his room was located, and somebody called his name.

"Lewis!" Danielle sat on one of the couches, slouched like she'd been waiting there for a while, but she seemed surprised to see Lewis coming from the opposite direction of his room. She stood up and stepped toward him. "Where were you? Did you go somewhere for breakfast? Or..." she glanced up and down, "a really intense hike or something?"

Lewis looked down. His shirt was ripped, stained, and rumpled, and he did have streaks and grass stains on his pants. His hair felt like it probably looked like a mess as well. "Well, um, I kinda... Yeah, I guess I went for a walk or a hike or something." His jaw tightened as he felt his cheeks flushing again. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh..." Danielle's face flushed as well. "Um, well, I wanted to come over and invite you to see a movie with me... but if you want to, like, go somewhere to eat first, that would be okay..."

"Yes, I do," Lewis replied quickly. "Just let me change my clothes and freshen up a little and then we can go."
"Sounds good," Danielle sat back down on the couch. "I'll wait here for you."

Lewis scurried to his room, a renewed determination invigorating him. He shed his dirty clothes, tossing the dirty shirt in the hamper.

"Oof!" a tiny clang rang out.

Lewis froze, his eyes scanning the room. His shirt seemed to take on a life of its own, shifting and shaking until a small bead of light rose from the hamper and zipped toward him.

Lewis' breath caught in his throat. "Ashwyn?" he gasped. He put out his hand, and the small fairy in the purple dress dropped into his palm.

"Hi, Lewis," her tiny voice jingled.

He forgot all about getting dressed as he sat on the bed, staring at the sight he never imagined he would ever see again. "Wh-why did... How are--What are you doing here?" he spluttered.

Ashwyn fidgeted with her hands in her lap. "Well, I didn't go through the portal with everyone else," she admitted. "I almost did, but I wanted to stay here with you more than I wanted to go back. I hope that's okay."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "I mean, I'm not angry or anything, it's just... You know that Gathlen said that our worlds are not connected anymore, right? That means that you'll never see Phantasm again, and neither will I."

Ashwyn huffed and crossed her arms. "What about that thing you said to Lisa? About wanting to see Phantasm, or welcoming her back if another portal ever opened?"

Lewis dropped his hand so Ashwyn could fly over to his desk while he donned fresh clothes.
"Oh, good grief, it's not like I will be going around looking for portals like Krasimir did!" he groaned. "Gathlen made it sound pretty permanent, you have to admit." He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out the Chain link. "He gave me this as a memento, but that's all there is left of the Phantasmagyth. You're basically trapped here forever."

Ashwyn picked up the link, twice as big as a bracelet for her tiny hand. Her wings flickered. "As a matter of fact..." she said slowly, "there is a way for me to go back home anytime I choose."
Lewis frowned. "How?" he asked.

Ashwyn flew into the air with the link, which she dropped in Lewis' hand. He noticed that somehow she'd stretched the metal so that it formed a ring that fit around his little finger. He could wear it rather inconspicuously right on his hand.

"With that," the fairy said. "That little bit of Phantasmian metal still holds the power of the Phantasmagyth, even on a small scale. Humans don't know it, but magical portals happen every day, all over your world. I can sense them, remember? When I've done all I want to do, seen all I want to see, and been everywhere I want to go in your world, I can just sense the arrival of the next portal, and use this link to open it just wide enough for me to go through it."

Lewis sighed and wagged his head. "So... you're staying, huh?"

Ashwyn settled on his shoulder, where he could just make out her satisfied expression. "I'd like to, if you'll let me," she said. "I promise I won't be a bother and I'll stay hidden and I won't make too much trouble!"

Lewis shrugged. "Okay, if you can stay out of sight, I'll let you stay with me." He paused at the doorway. "Speaking of which, I'm about to go on a date with Danielle. Do you mind giving us some space for now?"

"Really?" Ashwyn chimed happily. "Oh, that's wonderful! I'll go exploring today and return when the sun goes down. Have a great time, Lewis!" She zig-zagged toward the window at the back of his room.
Lewis opened it a little ways to let her out, and the little fairy disappeared into the sunshine.

He went out to the common room where Danielle was still waiting for him. She stood as he approached.
"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Ready," Lewis responded, and in that moment he knew that although the adventure of the fairies under glass had come to a close, his next great adventure was just beginning.

THE END

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Reader's Review: "Sideris Gate" by Cheri Lasota

Synopsis from Amazon:

In near-future 2094, Earth is on the brink of nuclear winter. A secret evacuation is already underway, and Solomon Reach and his crew have guaranteed passage on the last ship to leave for colonization and exploration of a new planet in the Andromeda galaxy. When Solomon learns of a betrayal that will have catastrophic consequences, he is faced with an impossible choice: who will live and who will die?

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My Review:

This book read like an Asimov novel—which, if you know how much I enjoy Asimov’s work, should come as high praise indeed!

The premise is simple: Earth is dying and most of humanity has relocated to a space station orbiting the planet, but even that is running out of room and resources. There is a shuttle intended to transport a bunch of people to the region of a few moons intended to set up a new colony to expand and terraform… but Solomon Reach, one of the chief designers and builders of the shuttle, learns that there is a plan to replace the hundreds of builders and engineers like him who dedicated their work to building the place with the promise that they would be guaranteed space on the ship—with another population of administrative and executives who believe they have more compelling reasons to leave instead, and the financial backing to buy their precedence. Solomon and his closest team members concoct a plan to prevent the overreach and ensure that all those promised a place on the ship have them. It's a deadly and desperate race for survival, and there's no telling who Solomon and his crew can trust!

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. The world-building is masterful and meticulous (although I did begin to wonder at the author's prolific use of the word fenestella) and the characters are vivid enough to be compelling from the moment they're introduced. Once the slow and gradual build-up started to pay off, about the halfway mark, I found myself unable to stop reading, and I swiped through those pages with my eyes glued to the ebook screen, many a night reading until I couldn't keep my eyes open. The plan Solomon Reach enacts to get his crew and the other workers off-world without letting the executives kick them off was ornate, with lots of moving pieces and very little communication available between the group members. At one point there's even a space-walk and the risk of characters ending up free-floating in space had me holding my breath as I read feverishly!

All things considered, I'd say Sideris Gate earns itself a *****5 STAR***** rating. Lasota does a ripping sci-fi just as well as she does historical fantasy! This book is perfect for fans of Isaac Asimov and The Expanse. A rousing good time!

Further Reading: (Also By The Author(*)/Space-Based/Dystopian/Stellar World-Building)

-Immortal Codex: Petra--Cheri Lasota* 

-Countless As The Stars--Steve Trower 
-The Secret King: Letháo--Dawn Chapman 
-The Arena--Santana Young 
-Excelsior--George Sirois 

Starstruck Saga--S. E. Anderson

       -Starstruck 

       -Alienation 

The Children of Dreki--N. R. Tupper
       -TYR 

The Chronicles of Lorrek--Kelly Blanchard
        -Someday I'll Be Redeemed 
        -I Still Have A Soul 
        -I'm Still Alive 
        -Do You Trust Me?
        -You Left Me No Choice 
        -They Must Be Stopped 
        -Find Me If You Can 
        -You're Not Alone 

The Cadeau Series--Connie Olvera
       -Who Can You Trust?

-Abiding Flame--Pauline Creeden

The Untamed Series--Madeline Dyer
       -Untamed 
       -Fragmented 

-Anamatus--Derrick Tribble

Serial Saturday: "Fairies Under Glass" Part 27

Part 27

"Final Examinations"

Silence hung over the lecture hall in a thick cloud. Lewis moved with automated precision, scrawling his sentence responses and filling in bubbles under that overbearing sense of being carefully watched by the proctors standing at the corners of the room. His eyes remained locked on the page. As far as he was concerned there was only him, his pencil, and the Final Exam in front of him. Every lecture he'd heard, every textbook he'd pored over, every Study Hall he'd attended all led to this moment, the moment he'd make the transition from sophomore to junior. Nothing else mattered as he turned the last page and kept marking down answers.

"Time!" The proctor's announcement reached him from a great distance, and Lewis saw the welcome words "END TEST" on the page just below his last answer. He'd finished! He and forty others in the room let out a collective sigh, and followed the proctor's directions to form a single-file line to turn in the completed exams.

Lewis set his test booklet down and the girl behind him in line joked, "Now we just have to do this four more times and we're finished for the summer!"

He peeked over his shoulder with a laugh on his lips. She had curly brown hair and bright-blue eyes, and today she wore a plain white t-shirt under a soft green linen romper.
"Hi, Christine," Lewis greeted her.

"Hi, Lewis," Christine responded. "How did that one feel?"

Lewis tilted his head back and forth with a noncommittal expression. "History hasn't been one of my stronger subjects, but I think I did all right."

Christine chuckled. "At least if you can't remember the particulars of an event, it helps that the questions kind of lead you to the information the professors who grade our tests will be looking for," she said.

Lewis nodded. "If you can't answer the test, at least answer the professor, right?"

"You got it!" Christine flashed him a thumbs-up. "Good luck at your next class!"

"You too!"

Lewis headed down the corridor to the mathematics wing with a straightness in his spine and a lightness in his step that definitely hadn't been there last semester. He caught the eye contact of passersby and gave a smile or a nod as they passed each other. Those he knew by name, he waved to--and that number had even started to grow.

Perhaps nearly becoming a freak show display did wonders for one's desire to connect to other people.
It helped that the last bout of chaos (which he caused) at the carnival, coupled with his "weekend disappearance", prompted yet another change in employment. Melanie delivered a letter from Dean Rushford that officially recognized Lewis' efforts at fulfilling the required number of work hours, instead offering him a position on the Academy's social committee, in charge of networking with students and welcoming newcomers. Danielle happened to be on the committee already, so Lewis willingly accepted the position.

He reached Intro To College Algebra and immediately glanced to the corner typically occupied by Quincy, Jesse, and Henry, but all the seats around them were already filled. The opposite corner was still mostly open, while groups of students clustered around the middle tables in the room. Lewis found a table with one more open seat and took it.

The four students already sitting there gave him uncomfortable glances. He was pretty sure the boy with the thin face and shaggy dark hair was named Toby, but he didn't know the others.

"Hi," he said softly, as the professor still conferred with his teaching assistants over the particulars of test administration. "I'm Lewis. How's everybody doing today?"

"All right," said the girl, and Lewis realized that he'd seen her a few times at the carnival. "This is my first final of the day, and I'm really nervous!"

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. "It's just math; it's supposed to be hard! I'm just going to blow through it as quickly as possible, and maybe next year I'll actually get some tutoring."

Lewis wagged his head. "It's Toby, right?" When a nod confirmed his guess, he continued, "I remember taking my finals at the end of last year, and I definitely felt the same way! Taking classes at a private Academy like Browning is way different than grade school. But my advice would be to take the time to really focus on each question as if it's something you were already taught, even if you hadn't been paying attention that day. Approach it just like you would any other math problem, make sure to write down your methods--show your work--and even if you get it wrong, at least you might get closer than just blind guessing. Who knows, you might actually get more problems right than you think."

"That's good advice," the nervous girl said. "Thanks!"

Lewis reflected on that moment as he left the classroom in the company of his usual friend group. Where once he felt inadequate and excluded, he now had something to offer, and that helped him branch out from his usual habits.

Lewis’ stomach let out a gurgle, and he willingly headed toward the cafeteria. Lunchtime consisted of a choice between taco salad or soft tacos, and Lewis chose the latter. Drink, side of fruit, and meal secured, he surveyed the array of tables at the center. He saw Danielle sitting with a group of girls at a table that still had a few open spaces, notably one next to Danielle herself. She laughed at something one of the girls said, the sound of her voice breaking through the hubbub of chatter around her.

“You should go over there,” a voice said behind him.

Lewis flinched guiltily and turned to see Quincy, Brayden, and Jesse standing behind him. Quincy had a knowing grin on her face.

“I think she likes you,” she said to Lewis. “Or she is starting to. I don’t know how much you interacted at the carnival, but you should have seen how worried she was when we didn’t know where you were.”

Lewis squirmed uncomfortably. Did he have a crush on Danielle? Was it that obvious? “I dunno…”

“Dude, just go talk to her!” Jesse chided. “A year ago you were so awkward and reserved that you wouldn’t have even wanted to interact outside this friend group, but now? You’ve changed, man.”

Lewis felt his heart racing. He knew if Ashwyn was watching him right now she would probably be halfway to creating a situation to attract Danielle’s attention by now.

“Maybe later,” he confessed. He nodded toward an empty table across the auditorium. “My arms are getting tired of holding this tray. Let’s sit down over there.”

“Suit yourself,” said Quincy, and nobody pressured him anymore.

As Lewis finally left the table to dispose of his trash and head to his next class, a small winged creature zinged right for his neck and fluttered between his collar and his shoulder.

Ashwyn’s gentle, twinkling voice reached his ear. “I found one!”

Lewis shied away from the people milling around him, putting some distance around himself before he whispered back, “Found what?”

“A portal to Phsntasm!” Ashwyn replied. “There’s one due to open either tonight or tomorrow morning, not far from here.”

Lewis felt a surge of energy. “How close?” he asked.

“Somewhere with lots of trees,” said Ashwyn. “I’d be able to find it on a map.”

Lewis stopped in at the computer lab to select a kiosk and open a digital map. He pointed to a series of rooftops. “Okay, here is Browning Academy. Where are these trees you speak of?”

Ashwyn directed him to move the cursor around the screen till she chimed, “There is where it’s going to be!”

Lewis checked the location. “Magnolia Park, it’s only a mile from here.” He smiled. “Okay, that is definitely doable. I guess one benefit of knowing ahead is that we can be getting things ready before it actually happens—“

“Before what happens?” Quincy’s voice floated over his shoulder.

Lewis flinched and almost knocked the keyboard off the computer desk. “Um, I was just—“

“What’cha looking at?” Quincy asked, squinting at the map on the screen. “Magnolia Park? That’s a nice view. Are you looking for a date spot?“ She stared hard at Lewis and noticed his flushed cheeks. “Are you planning a date with Danielle?” Her eyes sparkled and she twisted a lock of her long dark hair around her finger. “That’s a great idea! I hope it goes well for you.”

Lewis muttered an incoherent response as he closed down the computer and bolted. Let Quincy make all the assumptions she wanted; at least it would keep her from digging for the actual truth!

Once he was outside the building, he called out, “Ashwyn!”
She flew out of his collar and hovered invisibly in the sky. “Yes?”

“I have one more class to get to, but I want you to send a fairy or two over to Rawlings Point to tell the others that we’re going to try and make it to the portal either tonight or tomorrow morning. They can meet us in those trees at Magnolia Park, okay?”
Ashwyn saluted. “You got it, boss!”

Lewis watched her zip away. A few months ago he wouldn't have accepted being the “boss” of anything, but just hearing Ashwyn say it gave him a burst of confidence that made him smile. He headed in for his final class of the day, Language Arts. The professor handed them back their final essays from the week before, each marked with their final grade, and since they had no other assignments, he allowed everyone to leave early with a book to spend the rest of the class period reading.

The only book Lewis had on him at the moment happened to be a murder mystery, so he made sure to find a sunny spot to read it. He was barely two chapters in when a voice said, “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
He looked up to see Danielle standing in front of him, a satchel over her shoulder and a grin on her face.
Lewis shrugged. “We finished all there was, so the professor let us go outside to read.”

Danielle chuckled. “Sounds like the faculty is as ready to be done with the school year as we are!” she joked. “My Classic Literature professor just did the same thing. Mind if I join you?”

Lewis glanced to the space beside him in the bench. “There’s plenty of room,” he agreed.

Danielle sat down and pulled out her book, a cloth-bound hardback copy of Peter Pan.

Lewis felt his interest perk when he saw it. “You like fantasy novels?” he asked.

Danielle nodded. “Oh yeah, anything with dragons or fairies in it is totally my jam! That’s really why I had wanted to see that Phantasmenagerie show, to see how realistic those creatures were… except the part where they started attacking the audience.” Her face fell and she shuddered.

Lewis gripped his book and fought the urge to broach the subject of the reality of the fantasy world after her horrified response. He focused on his book and the two friends said nothing more.

Lewis headed toward his dorm after finishing the last class period. He reflected on the week before, when he’d been relegated to reserve housing after Adolf had trashed his room. What a relief to be getting it back again! He almost didn’t mind the added security features it now had. At least he could still have some privacy!

He lay back on his bed, relieved at not having to study or think about tomorrow’s classes tonight at least. His eyes drifted shut, and he might have even dozed off a little, when a rap on his window jolted him awake. His room was dark because the sun hadn’t yet set when he’d walked in the room, and now night had fallen. He flipped on the lamp and peered at the window. A wide something like a bedsheet of canvas hovered outside, surrounded by many pricks of light. He opened the window to allow in the fairies carrying a blotchy piece of what looked to be canvas from one of the carnival tents.

“Special delivery!” Ashwyn jangled as they spread the dirty tarp over his bed. Lewis could see that some of the blotches were words written on the canvas—or they used to be. Most of the substance used as ink had washed away, except the words at the bottom of the note, “Your Giant Friend.”

“The fairies Queen Evalia sent found Lisa like you said,” Ashwyn explained. “And when we delivered your message, she told us to wait while she and Gathlen abandon Kharrie all set off toward the captor’s castle.” She settled on the desk as the whole throng of fairies and elves came out from their temporary village in the closet to learn what happened.

Ashwyn continued, “I was worried we were going to have to wait all night, but then Kharrie came back with the note, and we brought it to you.”

Lewis frowned. “Please tell me you read the note when it was fresh; the words have all but disappeared by now.”

The little fairy fluttered her wings apologetically. “I know, I’m sorry! Just so you know, I actually did read it. It said that she has the Gyth and they will all meet you at the park first thing tomorrow.”

Lewis smiled and yanked the canvas off the bed. “I knew they could do it!” he gushed. “They’re not afraid of Krasimir anymore; and now that I have the Chain, there's nothing he can really do to exert control over them!” He got ready for bed as the little folk celebrated with cheers and dancing.

“The portal is opening soon!” Ashwyn informed him with a drowsy half-loop. “I can feel it coming.”
Lewis nodded and yawned. “Wake me the moment it opens,” he said. “I don’t want to miss it in case it’s a long time till the next portal arrives.”

“Don’t worry,” Ashwyn reassured him. “The plan is all coming together. I won’t let you down.”

That thought comforted Lewis as he drifted off to sleep, little dreaming of how tomorrow could change his whole reality.

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