Ch. 3: Gerald

Back to Arheled

             Gerald   was   pretty   sure   this   was   a   nightmare.

             It   had   to   be,   with   the   surreal   horror   mounting   on   horror   that   each   day   brought. Because   the   only   other   thought   was   that   it   wasn’t. And   that   way   fell   into   madness.

             Or   it   could   be   Purgatory.

             It   had   started   a   long   time   ago,   with   the   dragon   dreams   and   the   horrid,   beastial   urgings   of   his   body. Masturbations   haunted   his   sleep,   and   soon   his   waking. He   learned   to   make   frequent   Confessions   and   evolve   little   ways   of   keeping   his   will   clean   when   the   insanity—for   what   else   was   it   when   your   reason   went   haywire?—roared   into   him. Endure   it,   clench   some   little   part   of   you   against   it,   so   that   when   it   passes   you   rise   up   sane.

             It   had   become   clear   as   hell   at   the   carnival.

             If   before   had   been   insanity,   that   was   madness. He   watched   in   dim   horror   as   his   body,   gripped   with   dull   cramping   ache,   changed   into   a   monster   and   pulled   down   a   screaming   child. He   felt   like a   man   riding   a   bear   as   he   hauled   at   his   body,   his   teeth   snapping   inches   above   the   paralysed   face. Grimly   his   human   will   stuck   to   the   task,   forcing   the   monster   off   the   boy,   and   then   inch   by   inch   forcing   it   to   the   side   until   it   faced   a   giant   willow   tree;   and   then   letting   go   he   roared   at   it   to   kill.

             The   willow   was   old   and   very   thick,   but   it   lost   half   its’   girth   and   all   its’   bark   to   the   monster’s   assault. Then   the   dragon’s   carnivorous   stomach   started reacting   to   the   willow   wood,   and   it   rolled   over   and   over,   retching   bark   and   wood   and   watery   slime. He   felt   a   dim   urge   to   attack   the   Churches,   but   another   bout   of   nausea   gripped   him   and   he   was   able   to   ignore   the   command.

             How   do   you   remain   human   when   your   own   body   is   mongrel,   shared   with   a   reptile   and   subject   to   its’   atavistic   demands? He   had   hunted   in   the   marshes   when   his   stomach   settled,   and   was   contentedly   devouring   a   beaver   the   day   afterward. The   sun   was   bright   and   hot,   and   the   cool   water   felt   so   nice   to   his   animal   flesh. Must   not   be   a   fire-dragon,   then. He   thought   for   a   moment   of   Camille,   and   a   twist   of   misery   gripped   his   stomach:   what   she   would   make   of   him   like   this,   when   she   had   barely   even   deigned   to   hang   out   with   him   at   the   beach,   he   couldn’t   imagine. Or   what   his   body   would   make   of   her,   for   that   matter. He   didn’t   know   how   it   would   react   to   seeing   a   human. Was   it   even   possible   to   shift   back? He   tried,   but   though   he   felt   a   sort   of   muscle   in   his   mind   that   he   knew   would   do   it,   body   and   soul   shuddered   like   inducing   vomit   and   he   dared   not   try   again.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   human   was   standing   on   the   far   shore.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald’s   body   tensed,   for   it   knew   this   man,   it   knew   him   very   well,   though   the   boy’s   mind,   racing,   could   not   place   him. He   had   seen   him   on   the   ferris   wheel,   hadn’t   he? That   awful   vision   of   the   burning   teens,   the   seven-headed   dragon   commanding   him   to   adore   (and   he   had   not,   he   had   slunk   off,   hoping   not   to   be   seen,   when   he   saw   the   child)…this   was   him,   he   suddenly   knew. This   was   the   source   of   it   all. This   was   the   Father   of   the   Dragons.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “So   you   know   me   now.”   the   beaming   man   said   in   a   hearty   voice. It   was   a   voice   that   irritated   him   intensely. “I   thought   I   would   find   you   in   here,   swamp-lizard.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “My   name’s   Gerald.”   he   made   his   dragon-voice   say.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Cornello   bowed,   mockingly. “How   nice   to   meet   you.”   he   sneered. “I   didn’t   give   you   that   body   so   you   could   chew   on   rodents. I   have   use   for   my   children.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I’m   not   your   child!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Cornello   was   growing,   huger   and   huger,   a   dragon   now,   and   a   dragon   with   seven   heads. “Oh   yes,   you   are.”   he   laughed. “I   came   to   your   mother   when   your   foster   dad   was   at   work,   and   one   look   at   my   eyes   and   I   could   do   whatever   I   wanted. Such   soft   little…”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   closed   his   ears,   as   dragons   can,   and   let   the   faint   rumble   of   sickeningly   detailed   words   describing   his   mother’s   charms   roll   over   him. He   opened   them   again   when   he   realized   the   dragon   had   moved   on. “We   went   out   to   the   places   she   had   always   sort   of   longed   for,   even   when   she   shook   her   head   the   next   second,   aghast,   and   denied   it. We   had   so   much   pleasure   there. Dragon-eyes,   Gerald. Dragon-spell,   Gerald. Like   what   you’re   under   right   now.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             For   Gerald   (he   remembered   this   forever   with   horror   and   misery)   was   not   objecting,   was   not   furious   but   panting,   dragon-drool   spilling   from   his   mouth. The   Father   of   Dragons   gave   a   hideous   smile   “You   Catholics   never   let   yourselves   have   any   fun,”   he   jeered,   “and   when   you   do,   guilt   racks   you. Rack,   then,   virgin,   and   be   virgin   no   more!

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald’s   body   shrank   and   shifted   until   he   sprawled,   human   and   naked,   in   the   pond-lilies. Mud   bubbled   around   him   with   an   organic   stench,   slick   and   caressingly   smooth   on   his   skin,   like   soft   hands. Pleasure   coursed   through   him. Lifting   his   eyes   he   saw   wading   thigh-deep   toward   him   the   girl   he   had   often   dreamed   about   kissing:   Camille,   buxom   and   brash   but   amazingly   cute,   and   she   smiled   at   him:   and   she   too   was   naked.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Your   senses   will   return   in   the   middle   of   your   fun,   and   torture   you   with   guilt   and   with   knowledge   of   your   loss. For   no   Dragon-born   remains   a   virgin   in my   care.”   the   Father   of   Dragons   said   awfully   from   behind   them.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   resolutely   shut   out   the   memory   whenever   it   came   to   him. Why   did   he   remember so   clearly   what   he   did   under   the   spell? What   she   looked   like…how   she   had   felt…He   had   shunned   her   in   the   dragon-camp   ever   since. For   that   matter,   he   wasn’t   even   sure   if   she   remembered   at   all. She   barely   noticed   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   found   out   soon   enough   his   dragon-power. The   Father   of   Dragons   had   made   a   big   mistake   with   him. He   blended. He   vanished. And   when   he   did,   he   soon   found,   not   even   dragons   could   see   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Thus   he   escaped   the   horror   of   that   night,   when   the   Father   of   Dragons   raped   his   own   children   and   made   them   rape   each   other,   both   in   dragon   and   in   human   form. Cornello,   however,   had   come   looking   for   him,   and   Gerald   had   blended   with   the   ground   and   became   so   invisible   not   even   his   Father   saw   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Or   so   he   hoped,   at   any   rate. Cornello   could   have   been   pretending,   to   lure   him   to   a   false   sense   of   security. He   had   not   dared   try   to   escape.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Now,   after   his   dragon-body   had   been   possessed   into   devouring   his   hated   companions   as   they   devoured   him,   Gerald   found   himself   in   Hell.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Because,   if   the   dragon   boot   camp   was   nightmare,   then   this   place   was   damnation. Barren   stone   and   barren   sand   as   far   as   eye   could   see. And   out   of   the   stone   the   dragons   were   crawling,   the   real   dragons,   the   ancient   enemies   of   all   that   were   good. When   they   had   first   stirred   he   had   vanished,   and   the   spell   that   turned   the   others   to   stone   did   not   touch   him. But   they   could   sense   him,   somehow:   they   were   aware   there   was   another   that   evaded   them.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Let   them. Let   them   eat   me. Let   them   lay   me   in   merciful   stone,   that   I   may   be   for   a   little   while   free   of   my   damnation.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Gerry!”   someone   was   hissing. “Psst! Gerry!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   was   unseen. He   was   blended. Perhaps   they   might   not   find   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Who   was   he   fooling? They   would   smell   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   person   trying   to   get   his   attention   lobbed   a   rock. It   glanced   off   his   tail   and   he   reflexively   whirled   his   head. Camille   was   there,   in   her   own   shape, human,   clothed   in   a   blue   tanktop   and   black   shorts   she’d   been   wearing   when   she   first   changed. Swiftly   he   slithered   lizard-like   across   the   open   ground   towards   her. Outside   their   shelter   the   dragons   crawled,   vast   dragons   like   hills   and   smaller   dragons   in   every   shape   and   size.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “In   here.”   she   beckoned. A   cave   opened   behind   her.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   changed   to   human-shape   to   follow. “How   can   you   see   me?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It’s   my   Dragon-power.”   she   said. “I’m   a   Seeing-dragon. I   shoot   bolts   of   sight.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Fantastic. So   you   make   your   foes   see   better. Or   do   you   shoot   eyes   at   them?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “No,   silly,   I   wreck   their   vision   with   uncontrolled   focus   and   unfocus. Anyway,   I   can   see   through   your   power.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “That   figures. It   would   have   to   be   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What’re   you   so   bitter   at    me   for?”   she   said. “It’s   not   like   I   made   you   dragon.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   really   don’t   remember? The   river? The   pond-lilies?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “So   we   had   sex. Big   deal. It’s   not   like   I   killed   you or   something.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   stared   at   her,   revulsion   mingling   with   incredulity   in   his   face. “That’s   all   it   is   to   you??”   he   exploded. “Just   like   that,   ‘We   had   sex,   So   what,   Who   cares’. What   do   you   think   it   was,   a   date? A   little   swim   in   the   pond? A   kiss   or   two?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “On   the   boobs.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   got   to   his   feet   so   sharply   he   knocked   his   head   on   the   cave. “You’re   despicable.”   His   voice   shook   with   rage. “I   fight   all   my   life   against   these   things,   and   you   just   wallow   in   them! You   don’t   even   try! You   don’t   even   know   how   to   try! Love? Marriage?? Children??   Any   of   these   ringing   a   bell?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Maybe   you   could   sit   down   and   tell   me   exactly   what   on   earth   you’re   talking   about.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   did,   so   abruptly   he   raised   dust. “Sorry.”   he   said. “I kind   of   tend   to   assume   people   know   right   from   wrong. Sex   is   part   of   love. It’s   supposed   to   beget   children   and   express   the   love   of   a   couple. Therefore   it’s   holy,   and   should   only   be   done   inside   marriage. You   understand   any   of   that?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh,   I   see.”   she   said   with   a   slightly   superior   smirk. “You’re   religious,   is   that   it. You’ve   got   yourself   all   rigged   up   with   guilt-trips   every   time   you   slip.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             She   sprawled   across   the   cave   floor. There   was   blood   on   her   face. There   was   blood   on   Gerald’s   hand. He   clutched   his   arm   with   his   other   hand,   staring   at   the   bloody   hand   as   if   it   had   belonged   to   a   demon. They   stayed   like   that,   breathing   heavily,   for   a   minute,   Camille   looking   in   shock   and   wariness   at   him,   he   staring   in   equal   shock   at   his   hand.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I’m   sorry.”   she   said,   sitting   up. “That   was   mean. I   shouldn’t   have   made   fun   of   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   struck   you.”   There   was   agony   in   his   voice. “To   add   to   all   my   other   sins,   I   drew   your   blood.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             She   shifted   to   dragon   and   back,   healed. “Don’t   beat   yourself   up.”   she   said   kindly,   detaching   his   grip   from   his   arm. “I   had   it   coming. It’s   all   right.”   She   planted   a   little   kiss   on   his   brow. Her   honey-colored   hair   swung   around   her   brusque   but   pretty   face.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Thank   you.”   he   said   hoarsely.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   guess   I   see   what   you   were   saying.”   she   said. “It   is   kind   of   special. If   it’s   any   comfort,   I   smile   each   time   I   remember   that   day.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   try   not   to.”   Gerald   murmered. “You   see,   I   was   virgin. Our   Father,”   he   spat,   “took   it   from   me,   to   torment   me. I   knew   I   had   done   wrong. I’m   pretty   sure   I   was   not   guilty,   but   I felt   like   I’d   betrayed   you. I’d   sinned   against   you,   even   if   I   wasn’t   guilty.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   Catholics   are   really   strange   people.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Which   is   why   the   Dragons   hate   us.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   don’t,   and   I’m   dragon.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Maybe   because   you’re   a   Seeing-dragon.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Camille   smiled. “Let’s   see   if   the   dragons   are   gone,”   she   said,   crawling   towards   the   cave-mouth. Her   shorts   were   tight   against   her   rear   and   were   dirty   and   smelly   from   two   weeks   without   washing—whenever   they   hadn’t   been   consumed   in   her   dragon-shape. “We   might   find   a   way   out.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “We’re   dead.”   said   Gerald.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Dead   people   don’t   bleed.”   she   shot   over   her   shoulder. “We’re   in   a   graveyard. He   said   so.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “That’s   ‘Dead    men   don’t   bleed.’”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “That’s   sexist.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Huh?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh,   come   on. You   don’t   know   what   that   means??”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Yes,   it   means   women   discriminating   against   men.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             She   stopped   crawling   and   stared   at   him. “It   does   not! Women   are   the   ones   who   get   discriminated   against!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Then   why   aren’t   men   pushing   to   blot   out   female   adjectives   from   the   language? Seems   all   I   hear   about   are   rabid   women   raving   against   men.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             She   was   so   flabbergasted   she   sputtered   incoherently   for   a   second   before   turning   her   back. “That’s   it,   I’m   not   talking   to   you.”   she   said   as   she   crawled   on. Gerald   followed,   an   amused   look   on   his   face.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   emerged   from   the   cave   and   stood,   staring,   at   the   place   in   which   they   found   themselves.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   landscape   of   barren   crags   was   gone. Incredibly   steep   wooded   mountains   fell   in   cascades   of   lumpy   dark   green   and   blue   to   great   river   gorges   down   which   yellow   rivers   splashed. The   trees   near   at   hand   were   completely   unfamiliar:   odd   evergreens,   queer-shaped   broadleaves,   oaks   recognizable   only   by   the   general   form of   the   leaves,   and   growing   among   them   curious   long   canes   with   wooden   stems,   like   mammoth   reeds.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Bamboo.”   Camille   said   in   a   hushed   voice. “What   is   this   place?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   meandering   mountain   path   wound   up   past the   cave,   and   toiling   up   it   was   a   spindly   man   in   baggy   clothes   with   a   curious   pointed   conical   straw   cap,   shallow   and   broad,   tentlike   over   his   head. On   his   back   was   fastened   a   huge   bundle   of   sticks.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Better   get   into   dragon-shape.”   said   Gerald. He   and   Camille   shifted   shape   and   perched   at   the   entrance,   sniffing   furiously. There   were   so   many   strange   new   smells   in   the   air! Camille’s   dragon-form   was   blue   with   a   brown   belly,   very   feminine   and   graceful,   with   wings. Beside   her   Gerald   crouched   like   a   medieval   salamander.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   toiling   man   seemed   to   hold   the   cave   in   some   awe,   for   long   before   he   could   have   noticed   them   he   was   making   all   sorts   of   curious   sweeping   gestures   and   bobbings   of   the   head,   as   one   does   when   passing   a   very   dangerous   and   sacred   place. He   had   a   seamed   yellow   face   with   a   stringy   rat-tail   mustache   and   beard,   and   an   anxious   pinched   look   about   his   slanted   slits   of   eyes.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             When   he   saw   them   he   gave   such   a   convulsive   start   he   fell over   on   his   back,   the   bundle   fastening   him   like   a   turtle   as   he   kicked   frantically. Camille   laughed,   but   Gerald   slithered   down   to   him   and with   his   prehensile   tail   lifted   him   up.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It’s   all   right,   you   needn’t   fear   us.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   poor   man,   finally   shrugging   off   the   straps   of   his   burden,   was   kneeling,   bowing   his   head   repeatedly   to   the   ground   and   gabbling   with   great   rapidity   in   a   peculiar   tongue.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Can   you   understand   any   of   that?”   said   Camille   curiously.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “A   little.”   said   Gerald. “It’s   an   odd   language. All   sorts   of   irrelevant   words,   and   the   same   word   seems   to   mean   totally   different   things. It   sounds…kind   of   Chinese. Oriental,   I mean.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Ask   him   where   we   are.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I thought   you   weren’t   talking   to   me.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I’m   not   talking   with    you. I   will   talk   to   you. Talking   with    you   implies   a   friendly   conversation.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “And   we   were   getting   along   so   nice.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Retard.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   had   to   ask   the   man   several   times   before   he   got   any   sort   of   coherent   answer. “He   seems   to   think   we’re   gods   or   something. I   can’t   make   out   whether   it’s   because   we   came   from   this   cave   or   because   we’re   dragons. All   he   seems   to   know   about   this   place   is   that   it   is   East. He   repeats   some   name   over   and   over. I   think   it   means   Dragonthrone.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   man   was—with   many   repeated   bowings—trying   to   shoulder   his   burden. Gerald   put   it   on   his   back. “Where   do   you   live?”   he   addressed   the   peasant. The   stammering   man,   distressed   by   seeing   a   dragon   act   like   a   beast   of   burden,   pointed   up   the   path.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Wait   a   minute,   how   can   you   understand   him?”   demanded Camille,   spreading   her   wings.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I’m   a   dragon.”   said   Gerald. “Dragons’   hearts   are   supposed   to   enable   you   to   understand   even   birds   and   animals.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Then   how   come   I   can’t   understand   him?!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Maybe   you’re   just   not   listening.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   peasant   led   them   up   the   mountain   path. It   was   bordered   by   knobs   of   ancient   moss   above   a   steep   fall,   sometimes   sheer,   and   the   trees   would   fall   away   and   reveal   vast   yawning   vistas   of   green   mountains   thousands   of   feet   high   above   blue-misted   gorges   and   green   bottoms. It   must   be   torrid   down   there,   from   the   haze. At   length   they   came   to   a   place   where   the   mountain   leaned   back   a   little,   permitting   the   construction   of   countless   terrace-fields. They   fell   like   great   green   stairs   of   narrow   long   steps,   curving   with   the   mountain. In   a   more   sheltered recess   rickety   buildings   of   poles   and   thatch   crouched   against   the   slope,   tree   bark   arranged   like   siding   along   the   walls. With   the   long   ends   of   the   poles   projecting   every   which   way,   they   had   a   look   both   fantastic   and   squalid. Bent   figures   in   more   stovecap   hats   were   dotted   here   and   there   about   the   fields.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “He’s   babbling   something   about   the   Grandfather   now.”   said   Gerald. “Probably   their   oldest   inhabitant or   patriarch. Keep   a   civil   tongue in   your   head,    Camille.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   should   talk,   you   girl-beater.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   gave   her   such   a   smouldering   stare   she   subsided. Depositing   the   bundle   at   the   panicky   pleas   of   the   peasant,   Gerald   followed   him   to   a   stony   outcrop   of   yellow   rock,   on   which   sat   an   old   man   with   a   fallen-in,   toothless   mouth   and   wild   white   hair,   asleep   in   the   sun. The   peasant,   torn   between   respect   and   urgency,   babbled   loudly   as   he   turned   this   way   and   that. The   old   man   woke   up   after   a   few   minutes   of   this,   blinking   curiously   at   the   dragons. When   he   realized   just   what   they   were,   he   got   very   carefully   to   his   feet   and   bowed,   saying   something.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   is   it?”   said   Camille.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “He’s   inviting   us   inside   in   very   elaborate   polite   terms.”   said   Gerald. He   got   in   a   few   questions,   the   old   man   blinking   as   if   Gerald   had   been   rude,   and   turning   to   Camille   said,   “He   says   we’re   at   the   extremity   of   the   Morning,   and   very   near   the   Sun’s   rising. He   also   says   it’s   the   7000th   year   of   the   Glorious   Emporers.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Yep,   Chinese   all   through.”   said   Camille.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             There   was   a   trumpeting   sound. The   Grandfather   started,   looking   extremely   nervous. He   said   something   over   his   shoulder. Gerald’s   face   was   grim   as   he   translated.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Divine   Emporer’s   men.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   watched,   apprehensive. There   was   a   stiff   wind   blowing,   and   a   rumor   like   a   rising   storm. Neither   of   them   were   quite   prepared   for   the   sight   that   flew   into   view   around   a   corner   of   the   mountain. It   was   a   giant   violet   dragon,   mighty   wings   raising   a   perfect   hurricane,   the   back   spiky   with   soldiers   in   scale-green   armour.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “They   come   and   take   their   young   men   and   pretty   virgins   and   the   best   of   the   crop.”   Gerald   translated   another   string   of   grim   words.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   will   they   do   to   us?”   Camille   murmered.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Frankly,   I’m   not   really   keen   on   finding   out,   and   I   don’t   know   about   you,   but   I   don’t   intend   to   staff   more   child-raiding   expeditions   of   these   guys.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “They   could   be   quite   nice,   we’re   worshipped   here,   aren’t we?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Ever   hear   of   what   their   gods   are   sometimes   made   to   do?”   Gerald   said   grimly. “It   wouldn’t   surprise   me   if   we   are   Jack   Sparrow   gods.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             At   the   implication   Camille’s   white    throat   gulped. “What   should   we   do?”   she   said   tartly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Make   them   crash.”   said   Gerald.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Their   powers   beamed   as   one. Gerald’s   blast   of   Unseeing   made   half   the   mountain   invisible. Camille’s   blast   of   Seeing   tricked   the   huge   dragon   into   steering   right   for   a   great,   dead,   broken   pine   rising   like   a   spear   from   the   top   of   a   ridge. She   fired   several   more   confusing-beams,   until   the   great   purple   dragon   flew   at   top   speed,   belly-first,   right   into   the   ridge. It   screamed   as   the   huge   pine   speared   it. Beetled   men   spilling   from   its’   back,   it   toppled   burning   into   the   depths,   until   it   exploded.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Go.”   the   old   man   urged. “Go! After   what   you   have   done,   they   will   search   for   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Sobered   and   shaken,   the   two   dragons   complied,   scurrying   off   into   the   woods.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Why   did   we   have   to   go   and   mess   things   up?”   Camille   complained. “He   might   have   given   us   something   to   eat.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “And   then   we’d   have   eaten   some   of   his   precious   livestock,   and   he’d   die. These   people   are   starving,   Camille. I   don’t   know   if   you   realize   what   that   means.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Yeah,   it   means   I’m   hungry.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   beamed   a ray   at   a   tree,   making   it   invisible   as   a   bird   dived   toward   it. The   bird   flew   smack   into   the   unseen   trunk. Camille   was   upon   it   before   it   even   hit   the   ground. “Try   to   make   it   last.”   Gerald   said   blandly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   climbed   up   the   mountain   in   silence. The   air   grew   cooler   as   the   ground   steepened. In   their   dragon-shapes   they   were   much   less   tired   than   they   should   have   been   and   were   able   to   plug   away   steadily. The   forest   became   pine,   strange   pines   with   broad   flat   needles,   stunted,   crouching   against   the   slope. They   came   out   on   a   ridge   of   bare   stone   and   gazed   around.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   crazy   steep   mountains   tossed   and   tumbled   far   around   them. On   the   edge   of   sight   they   made   out   a   shining   city,   like   a   cloudy   star.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   have   certainly   made   a   mess   for   yourselves.”   said   a   girl’s   voice   critically,   near   at   hand.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   spun   around. A   slim   young   girl,   yellow-skinned,   glossy   black   hair   flowing   around   an   impassive   Oriental   face,   stood   there   on   the   mountaintop. She   wore   a   strange   colorful   dress,   and   was,   Gerald   thought,   the   second   most   beautiful   thing   in   God’s   good   earth.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who   are   you?”   said   Camille.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   Jade   of   Dark   Locks. I   and   honorable   aunt   are   last   of   Dragonwatchers. You   come   now. It   is   too   exposed   on   the   mountain,   and   the   gods   have   keen   eyes.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   followed   as   the   girl   imperiously   turned   on   her   heel   and   headed   into   the   scrub   pines   of   the   ridge. Tucked   under   and   built   into   a   massive   nest   of   ledge,   below   the   summit,   was   the   queerest   and   prettiest   little   dwelling   they   had   ever   seen. Pines   hugged   it   close,   and   a   curious   vine   with   faint   red   flowers   covered   the   sides. A   delicate   scent   confused   their   noses,   and   all   at   once   they   could   not   see   the   house. The   girl   watched   them,   a   slight   smile   in   her   slanted   eyes,   though   her   lips   barely   moved.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Walk   as   men,   if   you   would   approach.”   she   said. “It   is   only   because   you   are   half   of   half   that   you   saw   even   so   much. It   is   shadowvine. It   hides   from   dragons.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Camille   and   Gerald   reverted   to   human   with   some   relief. They   looked   glaringly   out   of   place   in   the   mountain   setting   in   front   of   the   girl’s   dress,   Camille   with   her   black   cloth   shorts   and   tight   blue   blouse   that   hugged   her   buxom   figure,   Gerald   in   blue   jeans   and   green   T-shirt   with   the   wacky   horse   logo. The   house   became   visible   again.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Cool.”   he   said. “A   dragon-repellant   vine.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Enter.”   Jade   of   Dark    Locks   bade   them,   pulling   open   a   door   hidden   underneath   the   shadow-vine. It   had   a   peaked   top,   flaring   down   to   square   angles   like   a   pagoda,   but   was   made   of   red   pine-wood. Sweet   strange   smells   came   out   to   meet   them.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Wait.”   said   Gerald,   recalling   old   stories   of   the   absurdly   elaborate   manners   of   Chinese. “Pardon   us,   for   we   are   but   rude   foreigners,   but   is   there   anything   we   are   supposed   to   do   to   be   polite   when   entering?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Jade   looked   as   impassive   as   ever,   but   Gerald   was   quite   sure   she   was   surprised. “Yes,   there   is.”   she   said. She   made   them   remove   their   shoes   and   dip   their   fingers   and   toes   into   a   bowl   of   strange-smelling   water   and   shake   their   hands   in   a   certain   way;   Gerald   did   it   well   enough,   but   Camille   was   clumsy. Then,   barefooted   (Gerald   thought   it   prudent   to   remove   his   dirty   socks   as   well)   they   followed   Jade   under   the   door.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Inside   was   not   dark   as   they   expected   from   such   a   windowless   place. Windows   there   were   indeed,   strangely   shaped   windows   covered   with   shadowvine,   so   that   it   was   like   thin   curtains   drawn,   letting   in   a   dim   pink   light. A   fire   burned   on   a   beautiful   Oriental   hearth,   lined   with   porcelain   tile. Soft   lamps   had   been   kindled and   glowed   from   holders,   lighting   the   deeper   parts   of   the   strange   house. Graceful   furniture   stood   about,   and   rice   screens   painted   with   colorful   designs   covered   the   walls. Near   the   fire   sat   an   old   but   majestic   woman,   wrapped   in   a   great   shawl. She   turned   her   head   and   regarded   them   impassively.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Greet   the   Aunt   in   proper   fashion,   as   I   do.”   murmered   Jade   to   them. She   sank   gracefully   on   her   knees,   touching   her   forehead   to   the   floor. Camille   and   Gerald   looked   at   each   other,   appalled,   but   went   on   their   knees   and   tried   to   imitate   Jade. Gerald   being   naturally   more   courteous   managed   more   gracefully   than   poor   Camille,   who   had   no   notion   of   ceremony   at   all.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Enough!”   The   old   woman’s   voice   was   like   a   snapped   twig. “Cease   mangling the   ancient   customs. You   two   are   evidently   as   barbaric   as   the   others. Stand   and   greet   me   in   your   own   customs,   if   you   have   any.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   got   up,   dusty   and   hot   in   the   face. Camille   looked   appealingly   at   Gerald. He   made   as   elegant   a   bow   as   he   could   imagine,   bending   at   the   waist,   and   she   managed   to   imitate   him   clumsily.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It   seems   you   have   a   rudiment   of   manners   after   all,   underneath   your   barbaric   exterior,   young   man.”   the   Aunt   said,   a   trifle   less   frostily. “Not   you,   rude   slattern,   raised   without   culture   or   even   decent   clothing:   Jade   must   put   you   in   one   of   her   dresses   before   I   will   even   consent   to   look   upon   you   again.”   Jade   of   Dark   Locks   took   Camille   by   the   arm   and   led   her   further   within.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Come   before   me,   young   man.”   said   the   Aunt. “My   head   aches   from   turning,   and   I   am   loathe   to   move. Would   stir   the   fire? Ah. Now   sit   before   me,   that   I   may   see   you   better.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   sat   down   beside   the   fire,   trying   to   imitate   the   cross-legged   way   the   old   woman’s   legs   were   disposed   beneath   her   dress. He   kept   his   back   as   rigid   as   possible,   folding   his   hands   across   each   other   in   his   lap   as   she   was   doing. Rugs   were   spread   right   up   to   the   rough   stone   hearth. When   he   was   settled   Gerald   looked   up   and   met   her   gaze.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Your   names?”   she   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   am   Gerald. This   is   Camille.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Again,   that   name.”   the   Aunt   murmered. “The   other   girl,   she   was   Camilla,   but   he   was   Kevin. They   reeked   of   darkness,   those two. I   set   them   on   their   path   and   cursed   their   backs   as   they   left. But   you…the   girl   is   ill   reared,   while   you   are   not   evil   at   all.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   am   dragon,   unwilling.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             She   nodded,   her   face   stern. “When   the   dragons   walk   in   time   I   am   afraid,   for   I   must   set   them   to   learn,   and   learning   they   grow   more   fearsome   still. I   would   kill   them,   but   no   dragon   truly   dies,   for   their   Father   calls   them   from   the   Graveyard   whenever   he   sees   fit.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Please,   madam,   where   are   we? Is   this   China?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “China?”   she   said,   considering. “That   name   will   not   come   to   be   for   many   ages   yet. China   is   an   aftercomer,   a   new   growth,   a   transplanted   culture   learned   from   old   relics   and   old   teachers   after   the   earth   drowns. But   that   drowning   will   not   happen   for   three   Ages:   the   Age   of   Men,   and   of   Ice,   must   come   first.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “We’re   in…the   past??”   he   exclaimed. “Forgive   me,   but—I   thought   such   was   impossible.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   are   not   the   only   dragons   to   walk   here.”   she   replied. “Every   time,   the   event   is   the   same:   they   come   from   the   cave,   they   cause   the   dragon   to   crash,   they   flee   here   and   are   led   here   by   Jade. And   to   us   it   seems   the   first,   but   Jade   and   I,   we   have   the   Sight,   and   we   know. We   know   that   we   have   repeated   the   same   actions   many   times   in   the   same   instant,   and   we   remember   those   times,   and   what   we   say. As   to   what   is   happening:   I   suspect   I   am   speaking   in   a   moment   of   eternity,   outside   Time,   in   which   however   many   times   I   speak   I   am   still   in   that   moment.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   relive   this   event?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “No.”   she   snapped. “I   simply   am   aware,   as   I   pass   through   this   instant,   that   I   have   spoken   no   less   than   fifteen   conversations   with   fifteen   different   young   dragon-men,   sending   the   girls   off   for   dresses. You   are   the   sixteenth. I   remember   each   conversation   distinctly,   and   I   also   know   that   this   I   have   with   you   is   the   last. You   are   not   acting   on   your   own,   young   man. You   tread   a   path   rigidly   trodden,   nor   will   you   be   able   to   turn   from   it   to   the   left   or   to   the   right:   you   are   in   the   Past,   and   it   has   already   happened,   but   it   is   happening   to   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   left   it:   it   was   too   confusing   right   now. “But   if   this   isn’t   China,   what   is   it?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It   is   Dragonthrone.”   the   Aunt   replied. “It   is   the   empire   in   the   East. Here   withdrew   the   Dragons,   slowly   leaving   the   far   North,   for   they   heard   that   here   beneath   the   Sun   the   dragons   were   now   gods. In   the   West   the   Dark   Lord   is   beckoning,   but   the   dragons   do   not   stir,   for   they   are   for   themselves   and   not   for   Him. And   the   vast   armies   of   Hither   Palisor   sit   beneath   their   sway   and   send   no   help   to   Sauron. The   Romestamo   backs   them,   but   I   doubt   whether   his   great   wisdom   sees   true   in   this,   for   the   Dragons   may   not   sit   content   to   rule   the   Lands   of   the   Sun,   but   may   well   spread   west,   should   Sauron   fall. But   that   is   Wizards’   matter;   Wizards   were   sent   here   for   such   purpose.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Sauron?”   breathed   Gerald. “The   Lord   of   the   Rings?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Even   he.”   the   old   woman   nodded. “I   see   some   rumor   of   him   escaped   the   Flood,   and   I   am   glad. Will   escape,   I   should   say. I   am   glad   you   are   last;   guiding   timewalkers   is   bewildering   to   a   mind   born   to   live   in   one   instant   at   a   time. Mordor   is   gathering   the   East   and   the   South. He   seeks   men   like   the   sand   of   the   sea,   but   he   cannot   get   it,   for   Carn’hell’nar   rules   the   Dragons   and   sets   himself   up   as   rival. They   are   brothers,   the   Dragon   and   the   Dark   Lord;   neither   dares   battle   the   other,   and   Sauron   hopes   to   seize   the   West   that   he   may   be   secure   to   fight   the   East. And   even   in   the   South   his   summons   is   retarded.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Why?”   He   somehow   felt   it   not   at   all   odd   to   talk   about   the   imaginary   world   of   Middle-earth   as   if   it   was   real;   for   if   he   was   walking   time,   what   else   might   not   be   possible? Besides   the   eerie   suspicion   all   Tolkien   fans   have   that   Middle-earth   is   far   too   real   not   to   have   actually   existed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who   is   it   that   walks   as   man   in   the   secret   corners   of   the   earth,   whispering   and   leading   and   manipulating   one   against   another? The   Wizards,   child. The   Order   of   Wizards,   sent   out   of   the   West   to   be   the   Enemies   of   Sauron.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “There   were   Five,   weren’t   there? The   Grey,   and   the   Brown,   and   the   White…but   who   were   the   other   two?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “They   were   Blue.”   the   Aunt   answered. “The   Doomsman   and   the   Magician,   men   call   them,   but   they   call   themselves   other   names,   the   East-helper   and   the   Darkness-slayer. No   doubt   they   have   other   names   still. Men   often   give   labels   to   things   they   cannot   comprehend.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   path   must   I tread?”   said   Gerald.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   path   will   seem,   as   all   paths   are,   to   be   made   of   continuous   free   choices.”   she   said. “But   in   reality   this   has   already   happened,   and   whatever   your   heart   chooses,   events   will   force   you   down   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   if   sin   lies   along   it?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   old   woman’s   eyes   were   sorrowful. “You   will   seem   to   yourself   to   have   sinned. You   were   not   the   one   who   asked   to   come. You   chose   none   of   this. Keep   your   will   free,   and   when   your   ordeal   is   done,   ask   forgiveness.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   bowed   his   head   and   tears   flowed   slowly   from   his   eyes. “I   wish   I could   die.”   he choked. “All   my   life   has   been   one   unending   downhill   war. I   have no   peace. I   am   never   free. When   will   it   end?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   old   woman   looked   at   him   with   pity. “The   only   Dragon   ever   to   repent.”   she   mused. “Perhaps   the   only   Dragon   who   may   be   saved. Who   can   tell,   in   the   end,   whether   that   was   not   the   design   of   Iluvatar,   that   unimagined   good   may   come   out   of   your   torment?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald’s   head   slowly   lifted. A   beautiful   smile   was   growing   on   his   face. “Purgatory.”   he   said   simply. “All   this   will   be   only   my   Purgatory.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Ah,   here   is   Camille.”   said   the   Aunt. Gerald’s   face   resumed   its’   normal   look. “You   must   be   fed,   and   then   I   shall   set   you   on   your   road.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   road?”   said   Camille.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Gerald   will   tell   you,   if   you   can   understand   it.”   the   Aunt   said   tartly. Camille,   looking   both   lovelier   and   out   of   place   in   a   colorful   green   Oriental   dress,   gave   him   a   curious   look. He   met   her   gaze   impassively. Strange   how   you   could   both   love and   dislike   a   person   at   the   same   time.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   were served   a   splendid   meal   of   rice   in   odd   sweet   sauce,   with   vegetables   neither   had   heard   of   and   thin-roasted   slices   of   pork. Gerald   said   Grace   to   himself   quietly,   then   under   probing   questions   from   the   Aunt   had   to   explain   it.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Ah,   the   Standing   Silence   of   Numenor.”   she   said,   enlightened.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   know   of   Numenor?”   Gerald   exclaimed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Any   land   with   a   seacoast   knows   of   them.”   the   Aunt   replied. “But   they   were   an   Age   and   more   ago,   and   have   not   been   seen   here   for   3000   years.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Numenor   fell.”   said   Gerald.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “So   we   had   heard.”   the   Aunt   answered.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Um,   how   is   it   you   talk   English?”   said   Camille.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Mutual   comprehension,”   answered   the   Aunt,   “one   effect   of   walking   a   trodden   path. What   was   understood   by   the   first   walker,   you   understand,   as   far   as   language   goes.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Camille   looked   totally   lost.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   two   strange   women   bowed   as   they   bade   farewell. Jade   of   Dark   Locks   went   with   them   for   a   short   way,   until   they   came   to   a   path   following   the   ridge.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Your   only   hope   of   returning,”   she   said,   “is   to   come   to   the   Dragon   City   and   be   presented   to   Carn’hell’nar   himself.”   She   paused. “Such   is   what   I   said   to   all   the   others,   but   to   you   I   have   a   different   Seeing. You   are   trapped   in   the   Path   of   the   Training   Dragon. But   if   you   will   do   exactly   as   I   say,   you   will   be   shunted   down   another   path,   and   you   will   end   in   a   very   different   place. On   that   path   your   Father   cannot   find   you,   for   he   will   be   blinded   by   your   own   powers,   and   you   will   be   free   until   the   path   ends,   and   you   return.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   must   we   do?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “There   is   woe   and   torment   for   you   on   that   path,   and   evil.”   Jade   warned.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “We’ll   take   it.”   said   Camille. “I’d   give   anything   to   f--   up   my   Father.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Very   well. Follow   this   path   until   it   splits. Take   the   left   fork,   but   then   retrace   your   steps   until   you   come   to   the   great   birch   with   white   bark. Make   yourselves   invisible. The   time-path   will   try   to   drag   you   back   onto   it:   do   not   move,   however   strong   the   urging. Only   wait. In   twenty   minutes   a   young   man   and   his   lover   will   pass. Step   into   them;   they   will   be   like   ghosts   to   you. You   will   then   be   on   their   path   and   in   their   place,   doing   what   they   do   and   moving   as   they   moved,   and   hidden   from   your   Father.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “God   bless   you,   Jade.”   said   Gerald. The   girl   inclined   her   head,   and   left.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   path   curved   along   the    mountain   ridge. A   cool   wind   was   blowing,   taking   strange   scents   with   it. It   was   a   beautiful   place,   but   eerily   foreign:   it   did   not   feel   like   home,   but   like   an   alien   land.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “So,   like,   what   are   we   supposed   to   be   doing?”   said   Camille.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “When   they   come,   we   walk   behind   them   and   into   them.”   said   Gerald. “Don’t   look   at   me. I   don’t   even   believe   in   time   travel.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Why?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Lots   of   reasons. Philosophical,   mostly. I   don’t   really   want   to   go   into   it   while   we’re   looking   for   the   fork.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">They   came   to   the   split   and   bore   left   for   about   twelve   feet   before   heading   back. Just   before   the   fork   was   a   towering   birch   of   huge   size,   ragged   white   bark   peeling   from   it. A   sudden   powerful   urge   to   run   on   down   the   path,   to   continue   the   inevitable   journey,   came   upon   them:   so   strong   they   gripped   the   bole   as   if   a   current   was   tugging   them. It   grew   greater   and   greater,   like   a   toothache,   and   although   they   were   invisible   by   Gerald’s   power   they   felt   horribly   visible,   as   if   the   growing   kink   in   the   time-path   they   were   supposed   to   be   treading   but   were   dragging   out   of   kilter   was   drawing   the   attention   of   the   one   who   laid   it   down. Grimly   they   hung   on. Their   feet   were   actually   lifting   off   the   ground   and   flowing   back   down   the   path   by   the   time   the   two   figures   they   were   waiting   for   came   along. They   wore   the   same   outlandish   medieval-Oriental   style   as   the   others   they   had   seen,   but   these   were   of   better   material   and   make   than the   peasants’   dress. Fleeing   knights   or   nobles,   perhaps. The   young   man   had   a   thin   but   smiling   face,   worried   eyes   and   glanced   constantly   around. The   girl   looked   similar   to   Jade   as   far   as   general   cast   of   features   went,   but   less   delicate   and   pretty   and   more   broad. Gerald   and   Camille   waited   until   they   were   past   and   then   let   go   of   the   birch. Dragging,   the   former   time-path   hauled   them. With   all   their   strength   they   maintained   an   upright   posture   as   they   overtook   and   stepped   into   the   two   travelers.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   awful   tug   ceased,   as   suddenly   as   if   snapped. The   old   time-path   had   lost   them   and   they   trod   a   new   path. It   was   like   a   lock   clicking   into   place. It   felt   eerie   and   a   little   nasty,   but   much better   than   the   dragging   ache   of   the   wait. They   were   aware   that   now   they   were   moving   at   a   regular   but   odd   gait   unlike   their   usual   manner,   and   they   heard   faint   echos   of   voices   as   the   couple   they   had   interstepped   spoke   to   one   another.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   turned   his   head. There   might   be   pursuit. The   East-helper   had   been   pretty   sure   there   wouldn’t   be,   but   with   the   corpse   of   that   dragon   so   near   they   had   not   dared   to   stop   in   at   the   Aunt’s   but   hurried   on,   as he   had   instructed. One   more   day. One   more   day   of   travel,   and   then   they   would   reach   the   East-helper. Some   called   him   the   Doomsman   for   the   reach   of   his   prophecies,   but   he   refused   that   name. A   proud   and   lofty   wizard,   yet   he   was   their   only   hope.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   found   himself   trying   to   shake   his   head   and   failing. It   was   downright   maddening   to   have   someone   else’s   thoughts   buzzing   in   your   mental   ears. It   was   like   a   radio   at   work. To   distract   himself   he   stared   at   the   trees,   and   the   clouds   as   they   came   into   higher   and   more   open   terrain,   as   they   walked. The   breaks   were   more   frequent,   and   soon   the   only   trees   were   nestled   in   hollows   and   dips   in   the   ridge;   the   rest   was   grown   with   short   tough   alpine   vegetation. Vast   vistas   of   sharp   blue   mountains   laced   with   cloud   stretched   away,   so   unlike   anything   in   Connecticut   where   the   hills   all   rose   to   the   same   level   skyline. The   gleaming   city   was   gone,   swallowed   behind   a   line   of   peaks   like   a   broken   saw,   and   he   was   relieved. At   least   now   there   were   physical   barriers   between   him   and   the   sinister   Throne   of   his   Father.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   made   camp   when   it   was   still   day out   and   the   sun   had   not   even   set;   Gerald   heard   the   echoey   voices   in   his   head   bantering   in   a   flirtatious   manner,   but   he   said   nothing. It   was   alarming,   too,   how   his   body   was   behaving:   he   could   not   shift   to   dragon,   and   when   he   wanted   to   get   up   and   hunt,   his   body   remained   squatting   by   the   fire   he   was   building. Camille,   impatient,   cast   a   blade   of   concentrated   vision   from   her   eyes   when   her   head   happened   to   turn   that   way,   and   it   acted   like   a   laser,   producing   a   brief   spurt   of   flame. But   Gerald   found   himself   laboring   on   as   if   she   hadn’t,   nor   did   the   flame   catch. After   a   while   it   began   to   rise   and   he   piled   twigs   over   it.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Why   was   it   doing   that?”   Camille   said   irritably,   leaning   close   to   him. “I   just   kindled   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It’s   fixed,   of   course.”   Gerald   said. “You   can’t   change   the   Past.”   His   head   leaned   close   to   her   and   began   nuzzling   her,   to   his   alarm.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   the   heck   are   you…Hee   hee! That   tickles!”   squealed   Camille. She   gave   him   a   sound   kiss   on   the   mouth.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh   my   God. Did   I   just   kiss   you??”   she   exclaimed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Blessed   be   God. I’ll   try   to   pretend   you   didn’t.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   guess   whoever   we’re   overlaying   must   have   been   a   pair   of   lovebirds.”   Camille   sighed. Gerald   found   his   hands   were   running   up   her   waist. Her   sigh   changed   to   a   delighted   moan. “This   is   totally   weird,   I’m   not   even   feeling   flirty   and   I’m   behaving   like   a   whore,”   as   she   began    rubbing   against   him. “I   can’t   stop   myself,   either. What   the   heck…mmm…is   going   on?”   she   said,   as   well   as   she   could   between   gasps   of   pleasure.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “This   is   not   you.”   Gerald’s   voice   was   like   stone. “Nor   is   this   me. We   are   in   another’s   path   and   we   must   grind   out   their   whole   onerous   series   of   events. Forgive   me,   Camille…my   body   is   no   longer   my   own.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh   well,   no   need   to   get   all   worked   up   over   it.”   she   said,   shrugging   her   dress   off   her   shoulder. “Just   relax   and   let   it   happen. I’m   going   to   enjoy   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Gerald   gave   a   grim   smile. He   looked   at   his   hands,   and   then   let   them   go   limp,   his   muscles   motionless,   but   still   they   moved   of   themselves,   his   head   turned   and   his   mouth   moved   whether   he   resisted   or   not.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             I   must   keep   my   will   clean,   and   afterwards   beg   God   for   mercy. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Though   his   body   was   gasping   with   pleasure,   he   forced   his   mind   to   remain   detached,   to   watch   with   cold   paralysis   what   its’   renegade   flesh   was   doing.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             This   is   not   me. This   happened   to   another. This   sin   is   borne   by   another. I   must   not   give   my   consent. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   world   around   him   was   a   glorious   haze   of   gold,   in   which   objects   were   dim   and   blurry   and   brilliant. He   felt   smooth   warmth   under   his   hands. He   felt   his   lips   pressed   violently   to   flesh. He   felt   his   body   rage   with   passion,   and   noted   it   calmly,   feeling   it   beating   from   outside   like   a   the   crash   of   floods   against   a   submerged   stone.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             ''Three   conditions   are   needed   for   a   sin   to   become   mortal:   serious   matter,   and   sufficient   reflection,   and   full   consent   of   the   will. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             His   eyes   rolled   upward   in   his   head,   the   world   around   him   crumbling   into grey   static   as   pure   ecstasy   suspended   his   faculties   of   perception. He   watched   it,   curiously,   as   a   man   might watch   an   insect:   it   had   nothing   to   do   with   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   Lord   of   Lords,   the   Lord   is   King… ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Time   had   no   bearing   on   one   whose   reason   was   engulfed,   and   Gerald,   even   in   his   detached   condition,   noticed   nothing. Vaguely   he   was   aware   that   it   was   both   dark   and   light:   and   much   warmer,   too,   why   was   that? And   the   sound…the   roaring,   hissing,   snapping? Turn,   you   idiot! Turn   your   head!

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             But   the   idiot   he   was   overlaying   had   other   things   on   his   mind,   and   did   not   turn,   even   though   burning   twigs   were   beginning   to   fall   from   the   burning   trees   around   them. The   untended   fire   had   ignited   the   forest.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   idiot   finally   noticed,   scrambling   around   frantically   to   grab   his   belongings. It   was   a   little   late   for   that. The   clothes   had   already   gone;   the   fire   was   around   them,   and   naked   as   they   were   he   and   Camille   pressed   close   to   each   other,   hands   clasped,   ready   to   die.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “This   is   not   quite   the   signal   I   had   in   mind,   nor   the   day   I   had   set   for   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Flames   sunk   as the   dry   ponderous   voice   continued,   speaking   in   deep   tones   words   of   power,   strange   words   from   long   ago. Soon   the   fire   was   quenched,   all   save   one   bonfire   on   a   tree   stump. Into   the   light   there   came   a   tall   old   man,   with   grey-white   hair,   haughty   long   solemn   features,   and   deep-set   black   eyes. He   wore   a   high   pointed   hood   and   a   great   flowing   mantle,   fastened   by   a   brooch   like   a   green   and   gold   dragon:   his   garments   underneath    were   long   loose   robes. He   leaned   on   a   great   carven   staff   of   black   wood. Mantle   and   garments   were   a   stained   and   worn   sea-blue.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “See   the   results   of   your   dalliance.”   he   said   scornfully,   his   eyes   passing   across   their   nakedness   without   the   slightest   trace   of   human   lust,   only   a   lofty   contempt. This   was   a   man   removed   completely   from   the   carnal. If   he   was   a   man   at   all. “Go   naked,   then,   until   we   meet   the   camp,   ere   I   conjure   thee   garments.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “My   lord   Romestamo,   I   am   guiltless.”   said   Gerald   coldly. He   heard   the   voices   in   his   ears   saying   something   different:   let   them.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Are   thee,   indeed? That   is   good. I   know   thee,   Dragon   Gerald   and   Dragon   Camille. Come. Share   my   mantle,   and   I   will   share   my   food. We   have   much   to   discuss.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   know   us,   Sir?”   said   Gerald   as   the   Blue   Wizard   draped   the   mantle   around   both   of   them. It   felt   good:   although   still   sweaty   and   worked   up   from   their   actions,   both   had   begun   to   shiver   in   the   cold   mountain   air.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   are   timewalking.”   said   the   Wizard.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “But,   Sir,   that   is   impossible.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “And   you   are   absolutely   right.”   Romestamo   answered. “You   see,   no   one   can   really   be   physically   in   the   Past. The   matter   of   the   Past   has   already   been   woven   into   new   forms   by   the   Present,   and   there   alone   is   there   physical   existence. Though   I   speak   in   the   Present,   you   are   hearing   me   eleven   thousand   and   five   hundred   years   later   as   you   walk   amid   what   has   been,   and   I   through   my   vallian   prophetic   gift   know   this   and   know   what   you   will   say,   and   answer   accordingly   so   as   to   form   a   single   dislocated   conversation. The   poor   fuddled   fools   you   inhabit   are   under   the   impression   I   am   talking   to   ghosts   in   a   strange   language:   for   I   am   speaking   your   tongue.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Then   what   are   we   in?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   Past   does   not   exist   in   solid   reality,   only   in   memory. Iluvatar’s   memory,   perhaps. Only   when   the   Theme   has   been   played   out   to   the   End   and   the   last   chord sung,   will   all   of   the   Tale   be   complete   to   see   and   walk   within;   and   what   solidity   or   form   it   will   wear,   not   even   the   Valar   know. You   walk   in   Time’s   memory,   but   you   walk   down   a   path   of   events   that   have   already   happened. They   seem   therefore   to   you   to   be   happening   in   the   Present,   but   they   do   not. This   is   the   work   of   that   fallen   spirit   now   clad   in   dragon   form   who   rules   on   the   Throne. He   saw   that   in   future   he   would   need   to   show   his   children   the   Dragonthrone,   and   so   he   constructed   a   time-path   for   them.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   is   a   time-path?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “There   are   as   many   paths   as   there   are   physical   beings,   and   each being   is   a   multitude   of   paths   of   separate   particles   as   they   briefly   converge   along   their   journeys. The   events   that   happen   to   any   one   being   form   a   path   in   time,   event   after   event   all   down   the   ages   of   that   being’s   existence,   until   he   ends   and   his   path   stops,   and   the   matter   that   composes   him   resumes   time-paths   in   other   beings. The   Father   of   Dragons   made   a   time-path   of   events   that   happened   to   NO   ONE,   for   he   caused   a   pair   of   illusions   to   walk   that   path   and   arranged   for   everything   that   followed,   even   to   a   dragon   impaling   itself   on   a   tree   for   no   reason. With   a   path   of   events   around   nothing,   he   could   put   anyone   into   it   from   the   future:   they   would   come   out   of   the   cave   and   be   in   the   Past,   so   that   everything   along   the   path   would   happen   to   them. But   you   are   no   longer   on   that   path.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Yes,   and   I   don’t   understand.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Being   in   your   own   physical   bodies   yet   walking   in   the   Past,   one   must   follow   a   time-path   of   events   or   else   merely   behold   it   like   a   vision;   and   if   the   path   of   your   Father   is   shut,   step   onto   a   different   one. You   have   done   so. Following   the   path   of   these   two   fleeing   nobles   you   have   escaped   your   Father,   though   at   the   cost   of   suffering   the   sin   of   others   to   stain   you. You   feel   and   move   as   they   did,   and   what   happens   to   them,   so   to   you:   this   is   the   only   time-travel   that   can   be,   unless   your   mind   should   travel   by   vision.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Sir,   how   can   we   escape?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   Blue   Wizard   leaned   forward. “Listen   well,   for   after   that   our   conversation   ceases,   and   I   speak   to   the   fools   you   have   overlaid. Their   time-path   is   very   near   an   end. When   they   end,   you   will   return   to   the   Graveyard,   but   away   from   the   Woken   Dragons:   this   grace   Eru   has   granted,   because   you,   Gerald,   kept   yourself   clean. There   is   a   way   out   of   the   Graveyard. You   will   see   a   cluster   of   crags   a   darker   red   than   the   others   ahead   of   you   when   your   eyes   clear:   go   left   of   it. A   bridge   of   stone   rises,   curving   on   itself:   go   under   it. You   will   see   a   purple   wall:   go   right. Walk   in   a   direct   line   a   hundred   yards. You   will   find   the   remains   of   an   ancient   road,   a   fragment   of   an   elbow   climb,   resting   alone   in   the   desert. Step   onto   this   and   follow   it. You   will   be   on   the   Roads   the   Stars   built   through   the   Nine   ‘Heres’,   the   nine   layers   of   physical   space,   and   the   Graveyard   is   one   of   these   layers,   but   the   road   leads   out   of   it. Go   downhill,   not   up. More   I   do   not   know. The   Valar   keep   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             His   gaze   hardened,   cruel   as   stone. “I   heard   your   sniggering,   Allentassa   and   Van   of   Golden   Teeth. I   am   no   dotard. I   am   East-helper,   and   Doomsman,   and   I   come   out   of   the   West. I   know   why   you   seek   out   the   Blue   Wizard. You   wish   to   have   him   send   for   Sauron   to   invade   Dragonthrone,   and   you   will   tell   him   all   you   know   about   this   realm. I   am   the   Enemy   of   Sauron,   one   of   the   Five. You   are   traitors.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   staff   flamed   a   fiery   blue. “And   the   penalty   for   treason   is   death.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Then   splitting   blue   pain   engulfed   Gerald   and   Camille.

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