13 comments/  68604 views/  33 favorites

Chosen Mate

By: HarryHill



"They are real!" Harry said emphatically, glaring at the drunken brothers sitting across the bar from him. Billy had fallen off his stool, assisted by the wildly flailing arms of his larger brother; but Billy usually did anyway; and Bob, trying to keep from falling was holding tightly to the bar, tears in his eyes, howling with laughter.

"So faggots are trying to take over the world?" Bob gasped trying to catch his breath then exploding again into alcohol assisted howls of amusement. Harry sighed and lay his head on his arms crossed on the bar and spoke from their shelter.

"Not faggots fool, fairies and they're everywhere. Everything on this planet except for Man and ape are fairy folk. Plants, birds, insects, animals, and fish are all fairies or fairy related with kings, queens, princesses, princes, and noble, or gentlefolk that rule over each family or clan. He turned to call the bar- tender. "Sandra, when you get time, three more beers please." She nodded.

He turned back to brother one, who was pouring the rest of his bottle down his bucket mouth; he was getting most of it in too. He smacked his lips, whacking the empty down on the bar top, wiping his chin. He sat for a moment then started laughing again; wiping his foam filled face, then his eyes.

"So a fish fairy could tell me where all the big bass are, maybe a big suckerfish." He bellowed between gusts of laughter.

"It's possible Bob, but tell me," he paused "what's in it for the suckerfish?" Bob started choking out sounds. Harry could not tell if it was laughter or indignation. Hopefully there would be fresh beer soon. Maybe he could deaden the noise with alcohol. He was not hopeful of that though.

Sandra walked over to the corner of the bar, fine boned and fair skinned; she had fresh beers. Her long hair, that was not quite red or brown, fell down to the collarbones showing in the v of her blouse. Slim, with upturned breasts, a small waist, and healthy buffed arms, Harry thought she must be about the tastiest morsel of womanhood he knew. She might be in her late 30's Harry thought; but it was hard to tell.

--Too young for you. Spoke the voice in his mind that he called the Oldman.

She did not wear an excessive amount of make up; but he was damned if he could tell if she wore makeup at all. With her flawless, slightly olive complexion, it was hard to tell. There was a small scar at the corner of her right eye. You would miss if you were not paying close attention; Harry always did. Skynard played on the juke, "The Four walls of Raiford". She looked in his eyes. 'Oh Jesus save my soul,' Skynard sang. Amen, he thought as he looked in hers. They were a pale frosty blue and seemed to reach to the bottom of his soul, laying bare all his lusts, secrets, and dreams along the way. His heart beat faster as she moved to the corner, with the bottles of beer held by the necks.

"Are you telling those fairy tales to them again"? She said double knocking his bottle like a judge's gavel as she set it before him. Order in the bar, he said to himself. She looked at Bob then Billy, who sat up a little straighter under her disapproving look, as she deposited their bottles before them. Then her attention turned back to Harry and held his eyes; one eyebrow arching, and those eyes became a bit sharper as she waited for an answer.

"I should know better by now." He said tearing his own eyes away down to the beer. "Buy you one?

"Mmm," Sandra considered for a beat. "Only if you tell me a bedtime story"

--Innuendo, I like that, Oldman declared.

Her eyes captured his as he looked up, startled surprise, shock, and wonder on his face. Oh, man! This was new. Sandra never played games and was usually sparse with her conversation. He struggled against the paralyzing pin of her gaze like a butterfly prepared for study.

"Ahh," Brilliant conversation he thought. Those eyes damn it! "Ahh, you don't look sleepy."

She looked away, something like embarrassment or frustration on her face. Checking the few other patrons in the place, she saw that all were busy, content, and well supplied with drink. She returned her appraising gaze back to him and began addressing the points that brought her to this conversation.

"You come in here twice a week, never on the weekend, always when I'm working. You watch me more than the wide screen but try not to let me see it. I don't miss much do I Bob?"

"Just me when I'm gone." Bob said with a grin. Billy smiled at the bar top, avoiding her eyes.

"Bob we miss you when you're here." Her eye had not moved from his during the interruption; they were still captives, willing captives as she chastised Bob then turned her silken voice back to him.

"You are always polite and quiet except when telling your stories. You're good looking in a kind of old man way and you smell okay." She looked at him with her appraising eyes.

"Thank God," escaped from his mouth before he could stop it. Her eyes became filled with mirth.

She laughed, musical laughter that ended when she picked up his beer and drank, draining a large portion. She carried the money and his beer to the till. Turning her head she hit him with those incredible eyes once again that tore his from her sweetly filled jeans. She took another pull of his bottle and placed it back in front of him, lounging on the bar top close to him. Her scent was sweet.

"Well? Are you afraid your story telling skills aren't up to it or is it something else? Do you have problems with some other skill?" Picking up the bottle, looking full in her face, he drained it in three long swallows. How erotic he thought, drinking from the same bottle as a beautiful woman.

--Are you going to answer that question? Oldman asked.

--Which one? Shh, he answered the inquisitive nagging thought.

No, my skills are adequate, I suppose. It's been a while since I've used them. Do you believe in fairies?" He asked suddenly; painful tension played in his eyes. Again the amused appraising eyes searched his.

In answer, she looked to see if anyone was listening or watching; then, she brought her leg up to the bar top. Wow, was she ever limber. She looked again, pulling up her jeans leg to expose a tattoo on her ankle. Tinker Bell, he saw, looking closer. One finger crept out to caress the saucy cartoon. Little fists were on her slim hips, her chin upraised with a defiant expression.

--Tattoos tell a lot about a person. What does that tell you about her, Oldman asked.

"Nice work." He said as his finger continued to trace the lines of the tat. Sandra shivered and removed her leg to the safety of the floor. He frowned as his fingers slid off her ankle.

"Bye Tink," he said looking back at Sandra. She flushed, color spreading from cheeks to shoulders, glanced down the bar and left to chat and fill glasses and drinks. Left by himself with no beer and no distraction, he pondered just what and how much to tell her. He was still deliberating with himself when she came back with beer.

"On me." She said. Harry couldn't help it.

"Before the bedtime story?" The look came again, searching.

"No such luck; gimmie your spiel." Her eyes were a bit speculative though.

"O.K. long before written history..." He started. She shook her head in negation.

"No, no, no," Sandra broke in." Wrong story; tell me your story. I want to know about you." Her eyes had gone serious now. There was no trace of the playful banter from before. He held her stare for a moment then took a monumental drink, then another. He began babbling out his life to her.

"I'm an old guy. I smoke; drink, but not excessively. I have a hard time sleeping at night. I don't hear particularly well; there were too many years of loud music, motorcycles, and guns. I lost my job about a year ago; my wife left two days after that. There's been no one since. I've almost gotten over the hurt but...I'm so..."

He paused. He had started to say lonely but it was more than that. Heartbroken came to mind but that would not be accurate either. It was like a bruised muscle that hurt every time used, so you tried not to use it. He glanced up, shrugged and then continued without an explanation.

"I haven't found a regular job. I work at my shop at home doing a little leatherwork and woodwork, but it's not commercial type stuff. It's more artsy higher end stuff. I've just started getting my disability from social security 'cause I'm an old beat up guy. She laughed.

My appendix burst back in. ...'68? I didn't have a clue that it had happened. The doctor I went to see told me I had the flu, so I ate aspirin and Alka Seltzer and little else for five days. After screaming in pain most of the fifth night my friends took me to the emergency room. The doctors took a blood count then carried me straight to surgery where they sliced my beautiful young body from navel to sternum. They said that they used 'buckets' of saline to wash me out and that I was extremely lucky to be alive." He drank again eyes focused on the past, silent.

"Shit, I miss the good old days when you could smoke in a bar. So ...months in the hospital while recovering, enough antibiotics to cure most of Africa's illnesses, and a scar that reminded me of an ass crack where my six pack used to be. Then there were the wrecks."

She placed a hand on his forearm at a call from down the lightly peopled bar and said.

"Wait." Then she left to circuit the bar again.

--She escaped just in time. Oldman said.

"She asked." Harry replied to himself, looking quickly around to see if anyone heard him.

He wandered over to the pool table and shoved in quarters. Bob stumbled over to rack the balls and gossip as Harry shot making a solid ball on the break then looked for other opportunities.

"I haven't seen Sandra talk to anyone that much in a long time," Bob said. Harry made two more balls, saying nothing. His mind more on his own internal conversation, missed, and then lost interest as Bob cleaned the table off. Billy came over with two fresh beverages and more quarters. Harry left them the table and returned to his stool. Sandra came back.

"Another beer?" she asked. She leaned on the bar, closely. Her scent was as intoxicating as drink.

"Nah, Got any coffee back there? I could live on the stuff if it was possible."

"I'll make a fresh pot. Take a few moments if you care to wait."

--Come on. Oldman taunted. You started, go ahead.

"I can wait if you smile before you go" Harry said quickly; an embarrassed look on his face betrayed the flirting words. She lit up a ten-thousand-watt-smile that gleamed from her teeth and disappeared over her shoulder as she turned and walked into the tiny bar kitchen. Damn nice girl, Harry thought. He wondered what size jeans she was wearing. Billy stumbled to where Harry sat and spoke drunkard for a couple of sentences. Harry just nodded because he hadn't a clue what he had said. Encouraged Billy rambled on.

Sandra walked up and leaned on the bar, a chin resting in her supporting hand watching and listening while Billy spoke on and on. She exchanged a sighing glance of long-suffering with Harry. She leaned over, putting a hand on Billy's shoulder, and whispered in his ear for a moment. Billy straightened up quickly, staggered away, and found a chair by the pool table and sat.

Harry followed Billy's trek all the way over to the chair turned back to find 'her' gone again. His frown turned into a grin as she came through the kitchen door with two steaming mugs. She was still smiling.

"Sugar," she inquired with upraised eyebrows.

"Yes 'darling?"

"Mess with me and you'll drink it black." She was right, that was an old joke.

"You know I like that blue stuff if you have any." He said quickly. She produced a small crock filled with assorted sweeteners from under the bar. Harry dosed his coffee and stirred while looking back at Billy. Bob was there also. They were head to head talking full bore. He looked back at Sandra. She was watching them also drinking her coffee black as those frosty eyes lost temperature.

"It seems like you've got them pretty well trained." He said to her silent appraisal.

She continued to watch the two for a moment, not speaking, although Harry could swear her ear twitched at him as he spoke. Her head turned to face him but her eyes had stayed on drunkards two for just a moment, and then revolved back to his. Piercing pale blue orbs flashed as she spoke.

"Those two are like weeds; you have to chop them back every so often." Her eyes turned liquid as they looked in his. Smiles played hide and seek behind her full pouting lips that looked like some tasty fruit. He looked up then down, again avoiding her direct searching stare, until her silence forced him to look again into her eyes. He tumbled into their deep well. It seemed like he fell a million miles in a hundred years.

"Harry?" She prompted. His eyes refocused; her face was there again. Sipping at her mug, she waited patiently for him to answer.

"Sorry. I got lost in there for a moment. What did you say to Billy?"

"Trade secret", she replied, "sure you really want to know?" There was just a hint of frost now.

Harry thought about that. Anyone who could get Bob to shut up had his vote of confidence. He was happy with the results, and cared little for the process.

"No, I'd rather get lost again." Then he opened his soul to her eyes. She tore a chunk out, smiled softly, and looked at the small watch on her wrist. She turned, changing to her boss lady face.

"Last call folks; drink up." Turning back to him she said, "Stay."

--Woof, said Oldman. Harry looked at her with a 'puppy dog gaze. His mind supplied the lolling tongue that flapped in his head, panting in canine imitation. She walked away down the bar, picking up glasses and trash, looking at Billy and Bob as she strolled. They saw her and were on their feet and moving toward the door unsteadily.

"Goodnight Harry." Bob said as he passed by. "Bring me some of those cigarette cases to the station when you get a chance. I'm almost out." Harry waved.

"Will do," he answered as he stood and followed them into the parking lot. Lighting up and smoking while he waited. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sandra peeking through the window in the door.

--Dang! She's checking up on us. He blew smoke into the cool night air, ignoring the window and Oldman. He tried not to crack up watching his two friends. They crawled their big redneck asses into Bobs ancient Toyota Corolla, wound up the rubber band, and puttered away down the ally in a comparatively straight line.

What a wonderfully cool summer night it was. There was not a cloud in the sky. The stars sparkling down seemed as happy and pleased as he was. People wandered out to their vehicles chatting and laughing. He entered the bar again, heading for the restroom. Sandra was swamping out the business end of the bar as he walked by.

"There you are!" she said, "I'm almost done. Just hang out until I finish. It won't take too long."

"Be right back, pause for the cause you know." He said as he pushed the men's room door open. Passing the mirror, he caught his reflection and stopped turning to face the man standing there. A man who had not made his mark on life, but life had certainly made its mark on him. I haven't a clue what's next do you? Shaking his head, he turned and stepped up to the urinal. He was in full stream when he heard the door open behind him. He had thought the bar was empty. Before he could look, he heard her voice behind him.

"Doors are locked and everyone's gone." Sandra said behind him. Two hands touched him then, gliding from his shoulders to under his arms, then around his chest in a snug hug. It was like an electric shock. She laid her head on his back for a moment, then left saying.

"Don't forget to wash your hands." Wow, now he had to walk back out that door, at least he hadn't pissed himself when she touched him, although it had been a near thing. Okay, deep breath, here we go.

She was waiting by the exit when he came out, smug dimpled smile on her face, fringed buckskin purse in one hand, deposit bag in the other.

"Drive me to the bank; we'll go eat something after. I'm starving." Devilish twinkling eyes studied his face. Call and raise Harry said to the old man sharing his brain as he moved toward her.

"First things first," he said, then took her slowly and carefully into his arms and kissed her softly and long, one hand between her shoulder blades the other trembling on her sweetly rounded waist. Please don't wake up he said to himself.

She met the kiss in kind. Her full hands searching for a hold, finally dropped their contents to the floor and roamed over his shoulders, back, and hips, at last finding a purchase, twined in his hair. Time slowed. The room spun. He smelled flowers, soap, beer, and woman. He released the kiss slowly then stepped back swallowing. A pleased smug look was in the dancing eyes searching his.

"Ready?" He asked. Her hands were resting lightly on his chest now tracing the fabric of the shirt while watched the emotions flash over his face.

"Oh yeah," she answered grabbing a fist full of his shirt and stepping back in his arms to feed on his lips. Harry was sure smoke must have been coming out of his ears when she finally stopped. Hands sliding down his sides and legs, she sank slowly before him.

--Oh hell she's going to ...Oldman started. Sandra picked up the deposit bag and her purse from the floor; then standing, turned, unlocking the door, and walking out. He followed, fingers hooked in her belt loops, short of breath, and dizzy with emotion.

Harry glanced around the lot while digging keys from his pocket and readjusting recently uncomfortable portions of his anatomy, discreetly, while she locked up behind him. They walked to his truck, bumping into each other on the way, her hand through his arm. He held the passenger door open while she climbed onto the seat.

"Couldn't find a bigger truck could you?" She asked, stepping up.

"1984 Ford 150, 4x4, I call it my Bullfrog." Harry declared proudly as he got behind the wheel. Sometimes I like to play in the puddles."

"Oh! It's an amphibian is it?" She retorted.

"Pretty close, I'd say, but it does need a little bit of mud to get things going."

"It must be male." Sandra said, busy running her hands over the almost obscenely sized shifting levers, which sprouted from the floor. Her head swiveled to the dashboard, then opened wide and round as they surveyed the gages, lights, switches, and knobs. She almost seemed to pant as her eyes glazed over.

"Tell me Harry. Do you like to play in the mud too?" She asked absently. Her gaze never left the dash, but he could swear that ear was pointing at him again.

--Damn, the Oldman exclaimed.

"I do," he answered, blinking at the innuendo, "it's one of my favorite pastimes; but, I can't remember the last time. We've been looking for a damp spot to frolic in for a while. There's been no rain for a long time" There, he thought.

"I can tell. Your truck seems to be rather dusty but well used." She announced with knowing eyes and an evil grin.

"You peeked didn't you?" He asked and turned the key. She laughed until the truck started.

The straight six rumbled to life sounding dangerous in the empty parking lot. The exhaust echoed off the walls of the buildings surrounding three sides of the lot, rumbling with the sound of a well-tuned engine.

Her eyes were racing now, darting from one gauge to another as they displayed information to the driver. Her breath had quickened.

"Clutch" She said, fondling the gearshift. She licked her lips and grinned at the tachometer.

"Seatbelt?" He answered, peering over the top of his glasses. Sandra released the stick long enough to squirm and buckle herself into the center set of belts.


Chosen Mate Ad Primus Rem



Harry's notes, Ad Primus Rem: This preface is intended to explain the origin of Fay life on Earth and their presence in North America. Also, it foreshadows the conflict that begins in later chapters, 100 years earlier. They are not mythical magic entities, but an alien race that came to settle (or flee persecution) in the far distant past. Let me know what you think.





Chosen Mate Ch. 02



Note: Here is the second chapter of http://www.literotica.com/s/chosen-mate Harry, Sandra and Oldman face a new day. Thank you for the views, votes, comments, and favorites. I hope you like this one as well.

Harry





Chosen Mate Ch. 02



And there he was, centered in the discordant anomaly. He toiled among the early green plants that endured colder weather. She flew up to a post on the fence that ran across the back of the garden and watched him in puzzlement. Why was he so out of place with the world? What was the pain that burned so fiercely within him? Her curiosity compelled her to investigate.

She fed along the fence that enclosed the garden for the rest of the day. He was always in her sight as he prepared the soil for warmer plantings. Evening fell, and she was still there as Harry moved to other chores before retiring. She yawned and looked up to the Martin house, high on a pole over the garden. She slept there that night.

The next day Sandra sang a song of welcome to the creatures that moved around the garden in the early morning sun. She saw Harry step out of the house to appraise the new day and sent a chirp of welcome to him also. He had smiled then and hurried to the tasks waiting for him. Another day of work and observation saw them again retiring at lights end.

They spent the spring like that. She sang to the plants and living things. He pulled weeds while she sang and pollinated blooms as a bumble bee nearby. He smiled more often now. The balance in him was beginning to tip back.

Then came the day Harry watered the garden with his tears. She helped him in this also, leaving the earth misted in her wake. She sang The Song of Healing to him hour after hour throughout the day. She never knew why the day was so bad for him; when he closed the garden gate that evening, his step seemed lighter; a tired smile once again flickered about his lips. She flew to her perch, chirped out sweetly, and went to bed in her borrowed nest.

Donna came a few days later, bringing a message from their Father. Her concern burst from her along with her thoughts.

--What are you doing here, Sandra? You have not been home in some time. Father calls and you do not answer.

--It's him. She pointed at Harry. ...I cannot leave him; he needs me. Donna's incredulous surprise shone bright in her emotions. Searching Sandra's mind she saw the tiny fire of despair that burned within her; it wavered as she spoke again. ...I am trying to heal him.

--Oh sister, this is not some bird's wing that you can mend with song; Donna whispered in her mind. Stubbornness and determination jutted from Sandra's emotions. Donna sighed with defeat. There was nothing she could do when Sandra held prey or intent in her jaws.

--Tell me of him, she said. Sandra's thoughts swirled in Donna's mind as she explained Harry. They watched the catatonic gaze of the man and talked. He stared into the mirrored water of the koi pond until evenings shadows fell. Sandra slipped into the pond after Donna left. She changed into a red and gold fish and swam before Harry's lost gaze.

--See me Harry, see me. She called to him as she swam.

"Hello my beauty; where did you come from?" Harry said, as his eyes focused once more. He sprinkled the forgotten pellets of fish food that were in his lap on the water while his fingers played about the surface of the water. She touched them often as the koi rose to feed and found the sensation comforting.

Donna came daily after that. She could not sway Sandra as she followed behind Harry, singing to him as he moved among the vegetables.

Then Father came. She looked up as she felt his presence approach the fence. Dred was quickly overcome by her resolution as she came dutifully to his side. She could not meet the silvered sheen of his eyes. The impending storm of his emotions fell over her like a dark cloud. He shook his finger at her, as he did whenever lecturing his children on their responsibilities.

--I call for you and you do not come; his stern thought intoned within her mind ...Instead your mother and sister come telling me you are trying to heal a human. This is not possible. He has no broken limbs. His damage lies far beyond the capacities of The Song of Healing. You will attend my summons. His thought became stronger and more imperative with each word.

Irritation and stubbornness came from her. She flared like a sulfur match, burning brightly, and then forming into a young woman that glared at him, slapping the hand from her face. Surprise caused him to step back, gazing at his now thrice quickened child as she became an adult before his eyes. What a blessing. She was defiant before him. Her bright sapphire eyes and clenched moue faced him fearlessly.

--I can heal him now, Father. Her red and gold aura fanned angrily in the strong sun as she gathered its energy. ...I have the tools to finish the healing. Her head turned to where Harry was working and she brightened.

--Hide yourself! He said looking about. She dimmed but her eyes remained on Harry. She wanted to be seen, by him. She craved the feel of his eyes on her. Her intent was clear. He tried again to turn her back to her duty. ...I would have the pure seed of the people spill once more down the river. Come away and choose another.

--There are none for me except him now, Father. He calls to me I must go to him. Her tears fell, fed from the tiny fire that burned within her. Lord Sand pulled her to him and let her tears wet his chest as she sobbed in his embrace. He sighed and relented. Her fire could not grow stronger.

--There are three paths you can take. He began. She interrupted his thought with a rushing reply.

--I know one. Sandra began, sobbing. ...I am ready to accept that path. He cut the thought off quickly in fear and loathing, speaking softly to her.

--You are forbidden to take that path. I would have you lead the people after me. Forbidden, do you understand?

--Yes Father, I hear, and the second path? She turned to look up into his face that looked over the garden in introspection.

--I could leave you here as you are. I cannot take that path Daughter; I would fail in my service to you and the people. She saw tears shimmer in his eyes and turned her face back into his chest.

--And the last path? Sandra thought to him from her protected place in his arms. He took a deep breath of resignation and spoke into the distance.

--You will sing to him The Song of Following. Sandra squealed and made as if to go to Harry. He crushed her anxious start to his chest; his thought was iron in her mind. ...Hold! Would you know the cost? She trembled silently in his arm and waited. ...You will go see Donna for instruction in your cover identity immediately after. Just appearing without one is madness and sure death for us. You will train; there is much to be known about moving among humanity. Silas will instruct you at the bar. He knows well the hearts of men and their ways. Harry's image came from father's thoughts. Sandra trembled again, waiting to hear. ...He will enter my service or all is for naught. Now, Donna has told me your stories about him. Tell me more of the things he does. I see profit and mischief about him.

She spoke long telling about him. Fathers interested eyes and interrogative thoughts sparkled with the information she gave. Questions and answers stopped at last and they were silent together. Then she was released with a kiss and admonition to attend her duties and new responsibilities once her song was finished. He turned away to those that waited for him. Her song was a yearning sound behind.

She sped away; the first sweet phrase of calling brought Harry's head up to listen to the felt music. He cocked his head as a dog would, then set off among the rows to find it. He followed her around the garden looking for the unseen singer. Twilight came; the song ended, leaving him turning in the silence, looking for the one that had called to him. When she sang the song next, he would find her. She shook off the memory and moved into the garden.

Limestone flags led to the small koi pond, littered with water lilies and surrounded by beds of strawberries and asparagus. The bright fish swam lazily, seemingly enjoying the dappled sunlight filtering past tree limbs shading the pool.

Skipping down well fitted steps, she entered the garden proper, passing rows of onions, peas, potatoes, cucumbers twining through canes staked and tied together, squash, melons and beans. She found the woman there; striding forward, hand open and outstretched, smile on her face, she said.

"Hi, I'm Sandra. I love your garden. It must be wonderful to have fresh vegetables anytime you want them."

She was thin, wearing a straw hat with a scarf tied around the crown, slacks, and a light blouse. Sweat sheened her face; a bucket half filled with green beans was at her elbow. The woman straightened from her stooped position, removing a glove to grasp and shake Sandra's hand firmly, as she smiled openly with her entire face.

"Maddie Hill, it's good to meet you. Yes, I do love this garden myself, but fresh produce does require a bit of work." She replied, studying the bright intelligent face regarding her.

"Hot work" Sandra responded while placing the glass of ice water she carried in her left hand in Mrs. Hill's work gloved one. Crossing to the opposite side of the row, she began picking the ripe beans silently.

Maddie sipped the cold water in silent appreciation while appraising Sandra's slim form as she stripped beans quickly from the plants and placed them in the bucket. How thoughtful she was bringing water. It also suggested an offering of greeting or supplication as a servant might perform for their masters. It pleased Maddie. She spoke easily and friendly as she once again bent to continue, holding the glass out to Sandra as she did.

"Yes its hot work but goes fast with conversation and companionship. Here you better take a few sips before the ice melts." Sandra took the glass in both hands, lifting it in a gesture that reminded Maddie of some ritual. Bowing her head slightly and looking back, she raised the glass draining it. Sandra began picking again after setting the glass beside the row. Where had this woman come from? Maddie wondered as she too began moving down the row picking.

"So, you brought Harry home." She said, moving quickly to keep up with the young woman, glancing up now and then as she speedily removed the pods from the plants. That sounded more like a question than a statement. Sandra pondered her reply, then eyes averted, she spoke haltingly.

"Yes... we... ah... went out after I got off work at the Oasis. We went to Mildred's for breakfast then he let me... drive his truck around town. I was having so much fun it was near daylight before I realized how tired he was. I... tried to get him to rest for a while at my apartment, but he said he needed to get home to check on you. I should have driven him instead of letting him drive, but he was sober and insistent so I just followed him to make sure he made it here instead. He was so sleepy; I had to help him in and put him... to bed. He's sleeping." Then Sandra took a deep breath and blowing it out again sneaked looks at the woman busy on the opposite side.

Maddie's smiling face was hidden from Sandra's view by the brim of her down turned hat. She waited silently to see if she would volunteer more information explaining the hour or more she had spent inside.

"You have a nice house. I made coffee for when he wakes up. Hope you don't mind." Sandra said in a soft voice, unnerved by the woman's silence.

"Thank you for making sure he got home safely. I would have come to help you get him in the house but you seemed to have him well in hand. Also, I needed to get these beans picked. Harry will appreciate the coffee; He drinks it constantly." Maddie smiled inside pleased with her innuendo and what she was sure was a budding romance.

"You're so welcome, Mrs. Hill." Sandra answered, suddenly realizing they were at the end of the row. "Glad I could help. Looks like were finished here." They walked back discussing various aspects of the garden, stopping for a few red and green tomatoes on the way.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" Maddie asked looking at Sandra seriously. Taken by surprise at what was clearly an invitation of some kind. Sandra stopped a hand on the kitchen door considering her reply. What she was planning was to nail Harry when he was awake, but she answered diplomatically.

"I'm off tonight but I don't know what I'm going to do yet. I thought I would wait and see if Harry wanted to... do something... or..." her voice trailed off. Maddie broke in before she lost it completely and exploded into laughter.

"Well if you don't it would be nice to have you with us for supper tonight. Speaking of food let's go in for some lunch. You can start that coffee and we'll have a little bite then relax for a bit." A hand on Sandra's back was enough to induce her to open the door and step in. Sandra stumbled for an answer, saying at last.

"I would love to take supper with you. Thank you so much for asking. I'll start the coffee now."

With the coffeemaker sighing out its efforts softly, Sandra turned to the table and helped Maddie make ham and cheese sandwiches.

"Do you like cucumbers?" Maddie inquired setting out a quart jar of vinegar, cucumbers, and onion slices. Not waiting for an answer she continued. "I think it may be too warm for coffee. Would you like some ice-tea instead?"

"I eat almost any kind of vegetable and tea sounds great." Sandra said searching drawers for silverware then placing forks beside the paper plates containing the generously filled sandwiches. They chatted about T.V.; Maddie liked soaps. Sandra watched game shows and the 'view', Dr. Phil, and sixty minutes, which they both loved dearly.

After lunch, which had been delightful combination of crunchy cold cucumbers and quartered fresh tomatoes and the sandwich, Maddie said.

"Now... time to relax." She retrieved the bucket of beans by the door and began snapping them at the table. Sandra's mind laughed hysterically, almost as quickly as her jaw dropped, when she discovered Mrs. Hills idea of relaxing was to prepare produce for preserving.

Smiling openly, Sandra cleared a spot on the table, putting the plates and forks beside the sink then washing them in hot soapy water with a wet rinse. Draining the sinks and wiping them down she returned to help starting her own pile of snap beans. The conversation wasn't so mundane this time.

"So, you brought Harry home." The sound of snap beans being reduced to packaging size was the only one for some time; then Sandra said.

"Yes, Ma'am." Maddie looked up at this, still steadily snapping beans with her agile hands; the girl had used the "M" word and washed dishes. She continued snapping, grabbing fresh hands full from the pile between them.

"Took a while to get him settled didn't it?" Slightly arched eyebrows, thin and grey, capped the eyes that continued to view the girl non judgmentally. Sandy was pinned by that remark; she thought she had slipped by on that observation. Nodding her head, she admitted the missing hour.

"Yes Mrs. Hill. It took both of us a time to get comfortable. He woke up while I was making coffee so I went back to check on him; he was back in bed. I covered him and watched him sleep for a bit. I should have gone home for a shower and bed, but I didn't want to drop him off and run."

Wow, she thought, I told the literal truth; I did 'cover' him, and very well I think. She snatched the budding smile from her lips before it could blossom. Meeting Mrs. Hills' eyes fully, she was surprised to see the laughing eyes duck behind the pile of beans, becoming very interested in the movement of her hands.

Maddie had not missed the reference more commonly used in horse breeding. Two love, she thought, and served a new volley.

"Well," Maddie said, looking at the clock over her shoulder. "After working and being with Harry, then putting him to bed, you've had a hard night and morning, haven't you? Go home and clean up; take a nap. We'll eat at five. You might as well pack a change of underwear and a toothbrush and spend the night too. Harry will find a place for you to lay your head tonight. Then he can show you his 4x4 trails tomorrow."

Double ace, Maddie crowed to herself. Sandra was relieved by the easy acceptance that Mrs. Hill displayed and suspected that the earlier pinning, performed by the old lady, had turned into needling.





Chosen Mate Ch. 02



--As in combustion, Oldman chortled in the background. What about comfort? He thought, smiling at the unsolicited remark.

Comfort, was that one of his qualities? It sure was one of hers. She was so easy to be around. But what was comfortable about him? He spoke seldom. How companionable and comforting was that? He was moody; he got lost in the countless passageways that ran here and there through the library of knowledge stored in his brain. Comfortable...hah!

Performance, Shit! The very qualities that described his comfort ratio, minus two probably precluded any possible chance of his performance at any kind of a normal level.

Reliability, God he hoped so. So what was that two out of four? Fifty percent wasn't bad. Crap! He had forgotten style; I'm down to forty percent! He raised his cup from his crossed arms and sipped.

Eyes unfocused as he gazed out over the green countryside, lost again in his thoughts, staring into the distant west where the hint of thunderheads held a slight promise of rain. Patting the hood of his truck, as if it were a pet, he spoke to it. "Don't worry 'Froggie; we have a 40% chance. You may provide more.

--You're not going to let her drive again, are you? Oldman's words were like a sudden blow. Harry sighed, subtracting more percentage points from the remaining total for the voice in his head.





Chosen Mate Ch. 03







Chosen Mate Ch. 03



"Are you watching?" Harry tossed the question out quickly, eyes intent on the rapidly moving scenery.

Boy, was she ever watching; her wolfish eyes were open wide as the truck rocked into open spaces again.

She spotted the markers immediately, red and yellow again, she saw. The yellow was on the left side instead of to the right that they had turned earlier. Harry slowed, turning left, then slipped and slid around in a figure eight, again facing the direction of their egress from the last charge. He shifted out of gear and let the truck idle, opening the glove box and removing a cigarette from a box and lighting up.

He leaned back in the seat, and rolled his head to look at Sandra's head swiveling around as she looked for any nearby markers. She recoiled violently as claws screeched on the door; Max's panting maw became visible over the edge of the window. Harry laughed heartily as she threw herself away from the startling, slobbering jowls and lolling tongue.

"Ahh! Max you bastard. Just you wait." She slapped the door producing a hollow boom and Max scampered off, vanishing in the broken view afforded by the vegetation.

"Looks like you have a new best friend. Watch out your window as we go back down." "Back down?" She questioned.

Smiling crookedly, evilly, He crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray and placed the truck in gear, gunning the engine, popping the clutch and spinning away through the woods.

They entered the opening to the gully once more, speeding under the arch of vine covered trees. They raced down the snaky passage, the truck rising on the wall of the gully in the turns and then breaking free once again into broken shrubbery and tall cedar that gave view to the backside of the sunflower field. Max galloped along beside them, visible in flashing images that seemed more like photographs, framed in greenery instead of real life.

Swooping in and out of depressions, swerving lightly around small hummocks, ducking as the occasional limb attempted to swat then, and dodging the wildlife fleeing from frantic barks and engine noise, they soon arrived at their original entrance into the woodlot.

Harry slowed, turning onto the main trail again; he took the first turning between two ancient cedar trees, his fingers lightly grazing the bark in greeting, and then stopped once again. Sandra could see quite a distance across pockets of shadowed trail and protrusions of stone and plant. Yellow markers screamed caution in every direction, fading and vanishing slowly in distant window-like openings through shrub and lichen covered rock. She found it hard to believe the stretch was passable and came near laughing insanely as Harry spoke.

"This is not a fast section of trail." Harry stated while enjoying her disbelieving, doubting eyes darting over the daunting landscape. Max loped out of the underbrush on the high side of the trail and stood in majestic pose, tail curved tightly and erect over his back, head raised, nose sampling the air; then with a low growling 'Woof', plunged into the hollowed depths of the stony halls. She answered his remark at last without moving her head from the seemingly impassable terrain.

"No Shit. You really go in there with this truck?" In answer, he started the engine and eased forward and down. The truck moved very slowly now as it moved into extremely rocky territory, if merely rock could describe the large, weather worn and crumbling, limestone slabs and boulders. Tall cedars sprang from their tightly rooted grasp of the garden of stone; small ones clung beaten and crushed in the extreme proximity of the trail; some were sporting a valance of clinging primrose. Random Honey Locust rose in primordial splendor, spreading limbs covered in primitive leaves and long hanging banana-like flat pods of beans; large multi-pointed thorns sprang from the trunks and branches completing the primeval look of the trees. At the first turn the fun began.

Sandra thought that this would be a stressful and scary passage but was soon pleasantly surprised, as they proceeded unhurriedly down the gentle rises and dips with the sedate movement of a rocking chair. They floated down the trail, rising and falling, bobbing up and down like a boat in the wake of a slowly passing vessel.

Exiting from the trail, after a long enjoyable ride of twists, turns, switchbacks, and hairpin curves, a wide green yard-like area was revealed. Visible on the bordering left side of the trail was a small plant covered pond fed by a tiny splashing stream pouring out of a hole in the rock. Max was standing in water to his belly; he looked up and surged to the bank with sharp barks; water flew with his excited approach.

"You want to get out and play with him?" Harry asked, stopping easily and killing the engine. Max shook violently, slinging water and slobber in the air. Sandra rolled up her window, although on the opposite side of the potential disaster the dog represented.

"Nope, I'm good. The water does look nice. I'm getting thirsty too, but not thirsty enough to go out there with him wet like that." Max's face became suddenly visible at the window. Harry leaned back quickly to avoid stray splatters of dog spit.

"Thirsty I can fix." Harry declared, opening the sliding windows behind the seat, sliding his upper body out and digging in the cooler tied to the truck bed. She began playing with his ass. 

"You're not helping any." He yelled, jumping at her touch, thumping his head in the tight confines of the opening.

"Settle down or we'll have to start your lessons again." She called back with a squeeze. Unintelligible grumbling and the rattling of ice in the cooler was the only response. He emerged from the window with a quart of ice-cold sweet tea in his hand. Wrapping a hand towel around the dewed jar, he unscrewed the top and placed it in Sandra's hand. She drank thirstily in large gulps.

"My God, that's good. Here have some. No, wait." She drank again then handed him the jar.

"Glad I packed plenty." His lips twisted in what might have been a smile, looking slightly bewildered at the remainder left to him, then shrugged and tossed it off. Screwing the lid on the empty jar and wrapping it securely with the towel, then placed it safely in the glove box. He opened the door, jumping to the ground, and walking under the willows that shaded the pond with long wispy branches hanging over the water. Max was back by then, chasing minnows and frogs that were frantic to escape his attention.

"Forget about me?" Sandra spoke behind him, while wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his back. He chuckled, patting her hands while speaking sincerely.

"That's impossible, totally impossible, are you ready to do some driving?"

"Oh Yeah!" She answered, squeezing him in excitement.

"Well, let's let the truck cool for a while. Driving so slow through that stretch tends to overheat it. I'll check the oil and coolant. Give me five or ten minutes then we'll hit it again, okay?"

"Alright, I'll cool off too." Then with a gentle squeeze, her fingers slipped easily from his waist.

Sandra wandered away under the willows, admiring the miniscule white blooms that adorned the water plants covering the little pool in profusion. Stopping occasionally, she threw small stones near the dog that caused him to attack the disturbance in frenzied barking and splashing. Waves surged across the water, with his passage from splash to splash. Stopping where a break in the leafy fence of willows revealed the rutted trail on the backside of the pond, she looked past the tall cedars to the field of sunflowers as they danced in the light breeze.





Chosen Mate Ch. 03



Harry pulled up before a gate and waited while she jumped out to open it, then waited again as she locked it behind them and climbed into the bed, holding to the light bar, and slapping the top of the cab twice to send him forward again. They drove slowly over the faint trace that led toward the back of the rolling pasture. Sandra talked to the cattle that quietly grazed on the lush grass.

"Halloo cow, mooove out of the way." They moooved. Driving down a slight slope, they arrived near the tree lined river and parked in the shade. Sandra was out of the truck and running toward the water, shedding clothes as she went. Harry smiled at her enthusiastic actions while removing his bag and lunch from the cab. He spread a quilt across the gravel and returned to the truck to retrieve the cooler while splashes and yelps of enjoyment sounded from the river. 

He laid out lunch and called to her as she played at the edge of the gravel. Then, striping off shirt, boots, and hat, sat cross-legged on the quilt, drinking deeply from a jar of tea; it dripped from his beard as he quaffed the refreshing beverage. She came running, breasts bouncing, thin wet panties clinging to her. She removed the wet cloth, laying it on a nearby piece of driftwood, and knelt opposite him and began eating voraciously as her eyes danced over the quiet spot. 

Half an hour later, Harry lay naked except for sunglasses in a warm shallow water nest that Sandra had scooped at the edge of the gravel bar bordering the little cove beside the river. It was lined with smooth flat stones collected from scattered piles around the gravel bar. The water in the riverside bathtub warmed while they ate lunch in the peace and solitude of the magical spot. The river bubbled, singing a gentle soothing melody, as minnows skittered in the shallow water, birds flitted through the branches of the shady cottonwood trees, and insects buzzed over the sun dappled surface. He soaked in the warm, almost hot water; his head rested on the pillow of his bag. He dozed lightly as the afternoon sun streamed down warmly, his procrastinating thoughts on the sun block in the truck.

He watched her between slitted napping eyes that fluttered open and closed as the warm water soaked away the pain of his bruised side and arm.

She was magnificent; she sat on a limestone slab that projected out from the low bluff, tumbling stones down into the water, near the far side of the coves calm water between them. She was leaning back to face the sky, arms supporting her inclined body, offering her upturned breasts to the sun that graced her with a warm shining glow. He rolled on his bruised and sore side, wincing as he leaned on an elbow, to snap a picture of the idealic scene. He settled back in his warm nest again.

--I wonder if this is what heavens like. Oldman said in the background of his drowsing thoughts. Harry's eyes flickered and his head moved fractionally as he answered back quietly over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that would be great, wouldn't it?"

--Geeze, Oldman softly replied. Harry slipped once more beneath the waves of his conscious thoughts. The Green Warriors image floated again in his mind. He stared at it blankly. His thoughts stilled.

--Who are you; what do you want? Why are you here? He said in his thoughts. The head tilted downward to face him. He opened his eyes immediately with a gasp, sitting up suddenly startled.

--Wow! Oldman said.

Harry's eyes began to see the world in front of him like a slide show; rapid-fire photographs flashed as if on a screen before him.

Flash! Sandra stood, legs wide upon the stone, looking up river at something he wasn't able to see from his low vantage point. Flash! She stepped forward, turning toward the pool. Her lips were open slightly as she drew breath in preparation for entering the water. Flash! She was diving off the stone, arms raised, fingers outstretched. Flash! She fell toward the water, golden body knifing down in a falcon-like stoop. Flash! A small splash marked her entry into the cove. Flash! Flash! Flash! She stroked through the water powerfully, swift as a fish. Flash! A small Jon boat drifts into sight at the opening of the placid cove. Flash! Two fishermen begin paddling to the entrance. Flash! Sandra slid around his legs.





Chosen Mate Ch. 04



Harry's notes: Here is the next chapter posted in 'ROMANCE' because the southern version usually has nothing to do with soft lights and wine, but quite a bit to do with crowded bars n beer. Please give me a comment if you want to read more after this chapter. I got really discouraged after the laskluster views of the last two chapters and would have stopped except for the persistant efforts of a fan...Enjoy.





Chosen Mate Ch. 04



"I'm going to meet her and take her to breakfast after she gets off work. We have not made any plans past that. I'm going to take a nap before I leave. Don't let me sleep past seven or I'll be late to see her." He got a cold soda from the refrigerator and started toward the bedroom. Maddie burst out in laughter.

"Go, take a nap. But Harry," she paused and decided to help Sandra's program of abduction. "...if you get tired, don't try to drive home." Harry nodded, more to himself than her, and walked away.

Halting by his desk, he gathered the photographs that leapt off the pages that were scattered there. He examined the candid shots taken that day while walking to the bedroom, pleased at the quality, while instilled with the qualmish feeling that they were made by someone else.

He had never considered himself a good photographer. The better pictures he had taken seemed to be accidents rather than deliberately posed with thought of form, content, or composition. These three were excellent. They should hang in a gallery for all to enjoy. Harry studied them closely and carefully.

The longer he stared at them, the more they revealed details. His favorite, the cove and Sandra, inspected at length, seemed to show fish gathered under her perch in a frolicking school of assorted species. He placed the picture on his chest then cleaned his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Taking up the photograph once again, he found that he was mistaken. There was only water there.

He glanced at the clock radio and groaned. Time was slipping away. Stripping his leather clothing away from his body and pulling on a pair of briefs, he lay on the bed and willed sleep to take him. He stared at the Green Warrior, who returned to his thoughts, standing a silent unmoving vigil. Harry was careful not to speak, as it accompanied him into the still solitude of sleep. The soft waves of slumber spread their covers of darkness over him.





Chosen Mate Ch. 04



"You gave me new life when there was little left, hope, a commodity that was well depleted, pleasure, given freely where there was none and love, that I now lay tenderly at your feet in offering." They sat together under the single point of light that was like an island surrounded by dark ebony seas of shadows, holding hands tightly in their bright sanctuary. Sandra's mind screamed in ecstatic bliss at his declaration of love.

"I'll have to change one word if I ever need to use your poem." She said, looking deeply into his eyes. "I'll use Lord instead of Lady."

"My Lady." Harry replied huskily

"My Lord." Sandra answered. Their lips met over the bar, drawn together by the pull of their fiercely beating hearts and rushing blood. Harry felt like he was standing in an unquenchable fire as the burning kisses consuming force sent flames leaping through his body, filling his soul with new energy. Sandra felt much the same. It seemed that heat shimmered from her in radiating waves like the twisting of air near a very hot furnace. She broke the kiss and gasped in cooling breaths of air. She wanted him, now, but not here.

"I'm hungry." Sandra said smiling "it's hard work running a bar and being beautiful at the same time."

"I could eat too. Mom was asking so many questions about us during supper. I did more talking than eating and finally gave up. Are you ready to get out of here? I'll pull the Caddy up to the door so you don't have to walk across the parking lot with all that money. Then, we'll go to Mildred's and have some breakfast." Sandra became pensive as she considered his course of action that opposed her carefully planned agenda. She searched his earnest eyes.

"Do you care where we eat? Mildred's will be packed with all the people that left here. It will be loud, people will want to talk to you about leather things; jealous women may try to steal you from me, and men, maddened by my beautiful body, may try to steal me away from you. I stopped at the grocery store on the way home. Would you like a meal at my apartment instead? I've got everything you could ever want." Her hands cupped her breast suggestively. His hunger grew. He felt famished and near starving for her.

"You talk a lot like my mother, you know. She is always asking a second question before I've answered the first. No, I don't care where we eat, not at Mildred's now that you told me what to expect. I'd rather eat peanut butter and crackers at your apartment with you, than anything else anywhere else."

Sandra smiled happily. She had put together some things together before coming to work. The automatic coffee maker would begin perking any moment now. A green salad and bowl of fresh made guacamole waited in the refrigerator, along with a casserole dish of enchiladas and two bottles of red wine.

"I think I can offer you something better than peanut butter, especially since you offered me your love."

"I'll be right back with the car." Harry said, hurrying out the door.

He rushed out the door and across the lot, driving quickly to the door, letting the engine run as he opened the passenger's side of the Caddy for her. She locked up and got in the car, turning on the radio before he was able to shut the door. The classic rock coming out of the quad system was a pleasant relief after three hours of country music. Aerosmith's Sweet Emotion was playing. It was great music for cruising the empty streets at midnight.

They drove slowly to the bank, traveling at little more than an idle. Sandra lay cuddled against him, her head in his lap, face looking up at him, an arm wrapped around his accelerator leg and the other resting on his chest. He drove with one hand, elbow propped on the open window. His free hand played with her breasts through the soft suede of her top. Stevie Ray Vaughn was next on the radio; Pride and Joy began with its moving blues introduction. His 'pride and joy' moved with her head to the music. He sang along.

A quick stop at the bank and then she was giving him direction to her apartment, that happened to be on the street behind the bar. She sat up and used her garage remote. A double door opened to reveal his Frog facing out. He parked in the open bay and they went upstairs to her rooms.

She opened the door and preceded him into the living room, tossing her purse on the comfortable looking couch and walking to the kitchen/dinette on the far side. He glanced around the room as she entered the kitchen. She called back.

"Make yourself at home, coffee or wine?"

"Coffee." he answered, and moved down the hall to find the bathroom. He liked it; he liked the whole appartment; a walk in shower looked out on a neat, ordered, functional room. He stood in front of the toilet, thankfully, and swore to drink less beer as he looked at the view of the wide sink in the mirror in front of him.

The bathroom was tiled, floor to ceiling in gleaming white. Ice he thought and sighed. He shook, flipped down both lids, flushed, washed, and then walked out inspecting his nails.

He stepped down the hall to the last room. Fire, he thought after turning on the light in the bedroom. Light tan walls surrounded an immense four-post bed in golden maple. A matching mirrored dresser rested across from it. Heavy twin end tables and rose-glassed lamps flanked the bed. They all rested on rose-colored carpet that gave the impression of walking on clouds of marshmallows. Oldman cackled with anticipation.

Harry's eyes turned past the walk in closet doors of mirrored glass to a door. A toilet, sink, and bath were revealed, again in white; the carpet and towels were such a dark red that they were nearly black. The tub looked big enough to swim in.

Sandra appeared at the door with a mug of coffee in her hand. Perfect timing, he thought, and accepted the mug, then repeated her obeisance from the underground spring. Sandra smiled happily and softly said.

"My Lord." He swam in the liquid pools of her eyes and answered in reverence.

"My Lady." and bowed lower. Then rising, he pulled her to him where he leaned against the sink. "I think I could swim in that bath tub." He said seriously in outrageous exaggeration, and then continued. "I want one exactly like it. I especially like the jets. I can't wait to try them."

"Bring your coffee with you; it's time to eat." She was moving away as she spoke, letting the words trail in her wake. He followed, again looking at is fingernails.

"I need a manicure." He tossed down the hall after her. She ignored his statement and silently added it to a list of activities she had planned before he escaped.

Sandra had a salad, a bowl of guacamole, and two plates waiting on a white tablecloth. They sat down and began on their salads with no words until they chased bits of lettuce around the plates. The stove timer went off. Sandra walked away with the salad bowls and returned with a casserole dish of enchiladas; she sat them on a hot pad.

--That sure isn't p-nut butter Oldman observed. Harry agreed; this was wonderful.

"Wow that looks great! I love enchiladas."

"Really? Sandra replied, "Me too." He filled her wineglass and tasted it, twice.

"That's good. Have you got any chocolate?" The rich red wine would go nicely with some.

"Yes, in the refrigerator, next to the wine."

"Mmnnn..." He announced; but for the chocolate, the tasty red enchiladas rapidly consumed, or the chips dripping guacamole there was no conformation.

Harry raised his head with a deep-satisfied sigh and belched quietly into his napkin, hiding it by wiping his beard and lips. He watched her eat. He loved a woman with healthy appetites. Her top was unstained as she delicately and carefully made her way to the bottom of her rapidly appearing plate. Harry sighed again and began to lick his plate in slow savoring strokes.

Sandra looked up, and then looked again at the unexpected sight of Harry, lapping the remains of the sweet red sauce. She stood up and took the plate from his hand, then took both to the kitchen; she rinsed and stacked them in the washer. Harry brought the bowl and dish in. She had him cover them and clear the table.

Following her down the hall to the bathroom, he joined her as she started to disrobe. As she removed and began folding her pants, he stopped her as he saw her thong.

"You tied them different." He said bending to examine her method of tying the back laces around her waist and then the top of the front laces to it. "Ingenious." Harry said in awe from his position seated on the toilet, peeling socks off to join the pants and slippers he had already removed. "You've got them tied pretty tight, there's a dimple there." He forgot the socks, bringing his face near. He pressed on the dimple. She gasped and replied with distracted explanation.

"I would make them tighter but the laces hurt then. They feel like a warm hand, holding me tightly." He imagined thin padded sleeves around the sides of the lace; perhaps a padded v at the tail bone too. He pulled the slipknots that held the thong up. The front fell down and hung behind her. He pulled her to him and stroked her belly and the hollows of her hips, rubbing away the red marks from the laces with his beard and wet tongued kisses. She smelled of woman and leather, as he made his way to lap each fold that joined her. He reveled in the touch and feel of her smooth skin. Her hands rested on his head while she enjoyed his attention. He devoured her slowly in bits and pieces, feeding at the furnace like heat that sprang again from her earlier dampened flames at the bar. The fire consumed her; she cried out the death knell of her orgasm.

Harry looked up. Her head laid back and trembling in the ebbing of her release. He removed her thong completely and threw it at the hamper. Sandra cried out and moved to place it, and her top, in a delicates bag in the hamper. He stood behind her, as she secured her leather treasures, and pressed himself against her, hands lightly pulling her to him. She turned and dropped to her knees before him and removed the socks from his feet by feel. His hands rested on her moving head as she pulled them off. She rose and kissed him, holding on to him like a secure point in a raging tempest. She pulled from his arms and entered the shower. He followed.

They moved in the hot water that streamed down copiously. She laughed at his erection that seemed to follow her as they stirred over, around, and against each other. She turned it and him away from her, and pressed her body against his, forcing him to hold his hands against the wall for support. Suckling his neck, exposed by his wet hair, she reached around, fumbling for the bottle of body wash in the deep shelf of the water-beaded tile in front of him. She applied a liberal squeeze of it in her hand to wash, stroke, and rub until he was well cleaned. She finished him and turned to wash with a white washcloth then shampoo her hair.

Harry collapsed to the floor enjoying the deluge of hot water and watched her; his feet rested on one wall and head just touched the other. She rinsed and sat on the floor beside him pulling his head into her lap and shampooed his hair and beard. He sputtered and wiggled his head through her ministrations. She stood above him. He reached up for her but she placed a foot on his chest, holding him down.

"Not yet," She said, and sat again with a fine pumice stone and scrubbed the skin on his fingers then shaped the nails with the file on the opposite side. She looked at his feet, in quiet consideration, then moved to them and repeated the treatment given his hands, as she leaned back against the tile. She coaxed him from his pampered spot and washed the soap from their bodies before the heat of the water could dissipate. He helped, smooth fingers gliding silkily over her flesh as he explored her lush curves and abundant treasures.

Turning off the water, she reached to the bar outside the shower and pulled two towels in. Harry spent more time drying her gently with the soft towel given him than he did himself. She left him while he was wrapping the towel around his waist. Walking across the brown, fiber woven, rugs on the floor, he went to the kitchen and refilled her glass left there and one for himself. Making his way to the bedroom, he found her brushing her hair in the dresser mirror. He sat her glass on a coaster on the end table nearest her and moved around the bed, kissing the round of her shoulder as he passed and placed his glass on a coaster waiting on the second table. He folded the towel drawn from his waist and laid it on the carpet beside the bed, then dived on the plush comforter, snuggling down in its soft folds.

She found him near sleep when she finished her hair and turned to the bed. He was spread over it, deeply embedded in the fluffy cover. She sat on the bed drinking from her wineglass and drawing her fingers gently over his lifes ravaged body. He stirred as she took a long drink of her wine. He moaned and pulled her tight against him. His eyes fluttered open to focus on her.

She lowered her head, kissing him easily, slowly, with ever-increasing passion then moved her head down his body. Her kisses followed his descending scar. A puff of exhaled air escaped his lips a short moment later. He moaned as her heated mouth ignited his own fires. She mounted him and began to move, he reached out and grasped her waist, stopping her motion, and pulled her tight against him.

"Stop, stop." He called out desperately.

"What ever for?" she asked, beginning to easily circle their connection.

"I need to know something. Be still!" He called. She contemplated pulling him rapidly, using her dominant position, over his limit of restraint; the idea pleased her. She held herself in check; curiosity filled her, as did he. "How much control do you have over your muscles?" She pondered his meaning; Suddenly, His intent became clear to her.

"You mean these muscles?" Sandra tensed up, gripping him firmly. His head fell back on the pillow with a sharply in taken breath.

"Yeah, those muscles." He said after exhaling deeply and filling his lungs again. "Do you have any idea what you can do with them? Show me." He fell back in incoherent ecstasy. Stopping, she waited, unmoving, until his hands again moved over her inner thighs and returned his attention to her. She then showed him variations.

"That's...ah...good. Now, can you" He struggled to find a word to describe his intent.

"You mean this?" She asked, reading the focus of his thoughts. Harry fell back again, lost in the sensation.

"Can you do that any higher?" he asked when he was able to speak again. She fumbled up and down the length of him. It was enough for him to begin falling over the edge. It was enough for her; she drove him over the cliffs of oblivion with her striving body and silken internal whips and spurs, then followed. Harry was reduced to gasping immobility. The rider slowly drew back the reigns, bringing the steed to a slow walk.





Chosen Mate Ch. 05



Harry's notes, Chapter 5: Harry returns home after a benchmark night of emotions. He will not see Sandra until Saturday morning, instead he will question his sanity in alcohol, dreams, and apprehension of the truth. At the end of this chapter he is inundated by the waters of Fay culture. The action begins to accelerate all through this chapter and speed into chapter 6. I still get misty at the end of the chapter. (smiles)





Chosen Mate Ch. 05



"You certainly are," Gerry said, looking up at her words and quick action. Donna cuffed him lightly on the face of his shoulder with a look of annoyance; he smilingly returned to his plate and began to eat.

"Harry does some nice work." Donna declared as she looked longingly at the simple elegance of the design. "That copper really goes with your hair well." Sandra's hands fluttered at the top that she had looked at in the mirror during every free moment that day. Her face clouded.

"You should have seen the thong he made for me." And then the rain fell, gently at first, then becoming a torrent of pain-filled tears. Donna gave up, passing into the middle world under Backwater with Sandra. Putting her to bed in their hidden bower of her father's abode, she let her cry her breaking heart to sleep.

Gerry looked up as Donna returned to the table.

"Did you get her to sleep? Tuck her in?" She smiled gently and answered quietly.

"Yes, she'll sleep till morning." She looked at him closely as he removed the sunglasses and turned his bright blue eyes to hers. "Was I that bad?" The corners of his eyes wrinkled in amused remembrance.

"You were a demon. I think I still have bruises." His words were blunted by his soft husky voice and enfolding wings as he took her in his arms and kissed her. Donna leaned back as Gerry traced a line of kisses from her neck to between her breasts wondering how Harry was doing.





Chosen Mate Ch. 06



Harry's notes, Chapter 6: The last line of chapter 5 reads, "And then the world changed for both of them." To say nothing of how it changes for Oldman; no longer is he restricted to Harry's thoughts and comments; he will play a larger part now.

I have an oil painting inspired by this chapter that I think would make good cover art for the book but have no idea how to post it to this site at the moment.

I'm dropping this one in ROMANCE again. If you do not understand why then I have not done my job as a writer. Show me the love and comments at the end of this chapter or I feel it will be late in this month before I get back to adding more.

Please excuse my poor editing. I tried to get someone to refine my grammar and comma use but was unable. Enjoy this chapter. I feel it is the best yet.





Chosen Mate Ch. 06



--What the hell? Harry thought, as she disappeared.





Chosen Mate Ch. 06



Sandra's mind reached to him, caressing his thoughts lovingly, tenderly, softly soothing his melancholy mood. Harry sighed, deeply and pensive. Bubbles aimlessly escaped from him, floating straight up in a long unending stream, drifting in ponderous reflection.

--See? I told you, Oldman began. Harry turned his long suffering thoughts to him.

--I am who I am Oldman, just as you are you and we are we. He pulled their thoughts close, looking into their mind's eyes, huddled together as if in a brow meeting gaze. ...Do you see our children leaving the nest, joining those in the bushes or those in the bottom of the pool? Do you feel my shocked brain striving to encompass all the information imparted recently? Do you feel my relief and trepidation, love and broken heartedness, joy and sorrow?

It was too much for Sandra. She leapt from the nest to flop for a moment on the quilt; then, transformed into a sobbing Sandra. Quick moved to the fire near her, resting on a log just out of the direct flame as if to warm itself there.

Harry swam out into the cove, letting his mind touch the few left in the nest and the gathered multitude on the bottom of the pool and in the thickets nearby.

He swam out of the river connection and into its gently pushing stream. His gills gasped at a bitter taste; moving into fresher water beside a pile of debris, he nosed about the broken bottom, finding an old discarded battery tossed uncaringly there.

Harry began pushing it closer to the riverbank, driving hard with tail and fins, abrading his nose with the force of his efforts. A large blue turtle and a grey and silver speckled fish joined him, shoving the battery into the shallows. The two rose in their Fay form, streaming water. Gerry, Harry, and Billy heaved it from the water and on to the bank.

"Bob and I will come by with the boat to pick that up tomorrow and carry it away. You have our congratulations and heartfelt good wishes on your mating."

Billy had doubly surprised him, his identity as Fay, and his use of more words than he had ever spoken in Harry's memory. He had the feeling that he would have bowed to him if not restrained by Gerry's habitually clasping hand. Harry cupped water from the river, performing obeisance to them both.

"Thank you for helping. My children will swim in sweeter water now." They changed and swam away. He could feel their thoughts near the debris for a moment as the claws of the blue turtle dug about it, looking for more danger. Then they moved away, one up and one down river.

Harry walked across the gravel bar to the fire. Sandra had cried herself near sleep. He covered her with the quilt from his bag then started coffee water boiling on the fire; bacon broiled on sticks and eggs poached in their shells near the coals of the fire. He crawled under the quilt with her then, holding her close for a period of time then taking her tenderly. She rolled on his chest and took him fiercely. Their bittersweet release left them drowsing lightly in dreaming, love kissed conversations and pressing closeness.

Oldman moved freely between them at will, as comfortable in one mind as in the other. Harry needed to study this phenomenon closer. Oldman's unique ability was most likely only the tip of the iceberg of unusual talents that he possessed. He put aside his avid interest and turned instead to Sandra's mirrored mood, over shadowed by the intoxicating love covering them and their children like a blanket.

--Why did you pick me Sandra? Silvery laughter played through his mind, followed by Oldman's irreverent.

--I've wondered that myself.

--Hush Oldman. Sandra thought tenderly. ...I didn't really pick you Harry. You picked me. I was your garden fairy for a time. Your hurt, your yearning brought me to where you labored among the vegetables and the koi pond. You transformed me by the fire that raged through your soul that was ignited by your loss, burning unchecked through your mind, reducing it to a crumbling shell where you huddled trying to find shelter from the hostile reality of the world and your life. I moved through the ashes of that fire, singing you a song of hope, a song of healing. I labored beside you unseen. Our tears watered the garden rows together.

--Donna saw my heartbreak. We sat on the garden fence many times together feeling your hurt, watching it as it burned in you. She saw my intent clearly and tried to get me away from you but I would not leave. She ran to Mother, telling her what I was planning to do to try to save you from your damaged existence. Sandra came to a halt as Harry examined her memories of that time.

And then Harry saw it also, the clear image of what she would have sacrificed for him. She would become human in all forms except for her memory. The reality of what would have happened to her, the loss of her beautiful aura wings, the gift of transformation, and the ability to converse mind to mind shocked him; the painful way that it would be accomplished, by a thin needle of cold iron inserted into the aura organ between her shoulders, shorting it out forever, was an abomination. Wonder, pain, love, and horror filled him at the thought that she would have endured that. He would never have allowed it if he had known. But, the reality was that she was undamaged and they were together.

He rolled from under her, turning the bacon and eggs, then tossing a measure of coffee grounds into the gently boiling water and inhaling the fragrant aroma that issued from it.

"How terrible that would have been, Sandra." He said at last, bowing his head at the painful thought. She drew near him, hands around his waist, kisses covering the small of his back.

--It was not long after that Father leaned on the fence beside me while we discussed my alternatives. He could have refused, leaving you and I separated and spending the rest of our days in misery. You would lead what was left of your life then die, leaving me to live out mine sharing your pain that I did not relieve, but not your empty life.

--I could give up my long life to be with you. We would be happy together and die in time normally. He vetoed this alternative also, not being able to endure the pain that would be inflicted on me by the operation that would make me a cripple among my people.

--Father proposed a third alternative. You would be given the choice to replace your hurt with my love. Father would lose the full Fay offspring that I would produce but gain Halfling grandchildren. And you will enter his service, bound to his command forever, a command that may bring you little joy in the long years to come. I could have refused, Sandra thought, pausing, miserable that there had ever been a choice. ...but then both of our hearts would have been broken forever.

--I could not see that happen to you. I began working at the Oasis the next week, the same day that you decided to visit there in an attempt to end your hermit like existence. The choice is still yours. I will endure what must be. Our lives will be spent together no matter that choice. She became silent in her mind then, tears glistened in her eyes as she waited for him to reply.

He turned the eggs and bacon one last time and filled the mugs, passing her one and sweetening the other. There was no choice really. He would accept her Fathers terms, gladly accepting what seemed a meager payment for the invaluable gift of her affections. Turning back to her and diving in the pale pools that were her eyes that calmly, acceptingly, regarded him as she gnawed and supped at his hip. He wondered what his new job description was going to be.

Oldman thought this was hilarious and made several lewd suggestions. Sandra had a few of her own. Harry fed her bacon, bemusedly thinking that her full mouth would not silence her now. He endured their playful jabs, eating as he watched the sky lighten to the east.





Chosen Mate Ch. 07



Harry's notes, Chapter 7: We are at the halfway marker in this story. The alien race known in fable and joke as Fay, live hidden among humanity, while hiding from the equally alien Formorians who kill them on sight; in the middle of this ancient conflict: three beings fall in love. A man returns to sanity, a Princess serves her people, thousands of new Fay are born, and Oldman, a fourth sentient species, waits for the next energy filled orgasmic release. Let me know what you think of my shower scene.

Thanks IR2R for being kind enough to give me a read through and notes. She gave me many suggestions for expansion and clarification; if I used them all, I would still be writing.

For those of you not familiar with my work, this story deals in part with communication between characters mind to mind. I use the 'em' sign to show when these occur.

This one posts in Fantasy/Sci-fi for the first time; home at last.





Chosen Mate Ch. 07



--It's hard to wash with your clothes on, my Lord. Sandra began pressing him down to a velvet-like protrusion beside the stone steps and stripping his sweat stained leather t-shirt from his body.

Kneeling before him, she removed boots and socks. She leaned forward and released the single carved bone button securing his pants and commanded,

"Stand." Her breath played across his loins, stirring them, as the pants fell to the ground. Harry reached for her, but she fled across the room, shedding clothes, and squealing in pleasure as the falling water inundated her body.

"Harry, come." Sandra's musical teasing voice called in cheery invitation; the sound echoed about the walls; her smiling face peeked from the flowing sheet of water, as she looked to where he stood, abandoned, with his pants around his ankles. He looked at her playing in the water and thought how good it looked on her.

--My thoughts exactly. Harry replied, with a glance downward at his body, awakened by her warm breath. Delighted laughter and screams of feigned outrage reverberated in the air as Oldman used her hands to do other things than wash.

Harry sat on the velvety surface of the mound of moss and removed his pants; he dropped them and proceeded across the floor to her with no regard to his discarded apparel. Oldman called from Sandra's mind, delighted with Sandra's gift of her body's use and making the best of it; he caused her hands to rove over the screaming nerves of her skin.

--This is great; come on Harry.

--I intend to, he answered, coming up behind them. One hand slipped around her sweetly curving waist, the other beneath her buttocks. Her mind screamed in ecstasy at the touch; an exclamation of sensual acknowledgement escaped from her lips as they joined. Her body held him inside as if a gently grasping hand moved over him. The ache that he experienced as they drew close reminded him of the teasing way she had moved against him as they prepared to leave the river that morning.

He pressed her forward at the waist; she pushed back into him, causing their bodies to move under the cascading avalanche of water and into a misted alcove shielded from the flow. There, her hips worked on him. He was trapped between her and the wall, caught with her in an expanding search for release. Pressing to the torturously sought culmination, the three raised their thoughts, laboring to grasp a grain of sanity as they stared into each other's mind's eye.

Sandra's wings rose like the measuring beat of a stiffening organ coming to full erection; the crackle of its charging sounded in the hidden confines under the falls. Dappled light passing the sheets of water was a suddenly a memory as she brightened.

Oldman wavered unsteadily; their mental connection was flowing between them, creating a woven cloth of energy as they were sent and retrieved, dancing like a glider in a loom. Then, vibrant fabric formed between the bright points of self, tightened and contracted, becoming a ball of red swirled energy that throbbed with Oldman's being. Two hearts beat as one, matching the pulsing throb of Oldman's presence, running like a metronome in perfect synchronization with them.

Harry reached his limit first; his mind fell from the joined connection, trailing a golden thread that brought him back to conscious thought while spending his hard held erection. He struggled to keep his trembling limbs.

Sandra fell, head to the floor. Harry's legs fought for purchase, trying to hold his body erect above her. The movement took her; her wings flashed; a sharp crack of discharged energy leapt from them. She fell away from their shared conscious; her own golden cord depended from the globe of their shared orgasm.

Her release of the held sphere of energy allowed it to spring to Oldman's surviving point of stretched tension, overwhelming it in a tsunami of emotion that flowed outward in a heavy wave of ponderous energy. The three threads of connected Id drew slowly together, like a long tri petal flower, closing at evening, and settled to the floor.

Sandra and Harry lay in twisted embrace; the sound of falling water became audible again over their labored breaths and blasted senses. Harry felt that if he looked the invisible presence of Oldman would be seen sprawled on the floor beside them.

"Up, Up," Sandra said, crawling away from the knot of their limbs. Attempting to drag Harry's depleted body to his feet. "Make him stand, Oldman," she commanded, as Harry leaned heavily on her.

Oldman floated in a sea of roiling emotion filled bliss between Sandra and Harry; he rocked gently in the reflecting waves of release that still passed between them.

--Phibitttt, came Oldman's glow filled uncaring thought.

"Mutiny," Sandra mumbled, and drew Harry under the cold side of the falling water.





Chosen Mate Ch. 07



The sound of the multitude's hearty chuckles and laughs of anticipated amusement echoed in the room; then, the song began once more in his mind with earnest celebration.

--Don't let it bother you Harry. Remember, I'm with you most of the steps of the way, Gerry said, in a quiet voiceless tone within the private sphere of their thoughts; the laughter in them played on Harry's battered emotions and blushing face at being the butt of an ancient joke. ...It got me too when I walked it first; I was looking for it. The stone seeks the foot. There's a story that goes with it. Even when avoiding the known, you will stumble on the unseen on the way to the next step before you.   The next step was approaching. The heralding Fay stood there in solemn dignity. Silas, still appearing human, waited at his side, a jar of wine in his hands.

Harry stopped on the white line, standing while the others knelt. The song again quieted at the sonorous sound struck twice from the stone of the step.

Silas came forward from his place of waiting. Fumes of alcohol surrounded him as he held the jar in bowed obeisance. Gerry took his helmet while Harry accepted the jug, mirroring the drunken Fay's obeisance. He raised it high over his bowing head. Turning, he let his raised hands include the rest of the hall until he faced the dais once again. Then in strong clear thought he began.

--Dan na el, Lord of Sand, Father of San dra na, mate to Mar gay na, mother to the Shining People.

--I greet you, Oldman thought with Harry in an echoing duet of thought, then, they raised their head and brought the jar to their lips, draining and returning it to Silas. They knelt on the second step watching, as a ceremony with poured wine was performed on the dais.

--Harry! This step is deep! Oldman cautioned in alarm, as he felt the hidden precipice before them.

Mar gay na accepted the golden vessel handed to her and inclined her head; raising the wine, she spoke in clear strong tones of thought.

--Har ri na, I greet you. Oldman I greet you. She said simply and handed the goblet to Daniel who stood and repeated the gesture and drank, then handing the cup to be taken.

--Har ri na. Do you give your service to me and the Shining People, freely and without reservation?

--I do my Lord. Harry said, affirming his pledge to Sandra at the river.

--Oldman, will you stand in service also? Dan na el inquired. Oldman's ability to compress an infinite amount of calculations in an instants thought, became active. He had not expected to be included in the ceremony of fealty. There was much unknown to the link that joined Harry and himself. Would he 'die' with him in time, be left at Sandra's mercy at her senses of pain filled loss of Harry's presence. Many more thoughts were examined. In the end, it was as much curiosity, as well as the fact that he too, would do anything possible for Sandra's happiness.

--I will Lord Sand. He replied, simply, without pause.

-Har ri na, Oldman, step forward. The boom of the command sounded in the silent hall of great trees and waiting thoughts.

--Here Harry, you might need this. Gerry said returning the helm. Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward.





Chosen Mate Ch. 08



Harry's notes: hope you enjoy chapter 8. When you feel an unseen presence in the night sky, remember that it was born here. There is a summer poetry contest going on in the poetry feedback and discussion forum. Vote on all 5 semi final threads. One of them is mine. 




Silas decided on the bar for his meeting with Harry. Even how he arrived would determine how likely he would survive life among the Shining People. Nowhere was safe, even here in the long held sanctuary of Backwater. The human seemed like an unnessary risk, a weak link in the chain that had held fast their survival for so long. Then there was Oldman.

Was Oldman somehow influencing Harry's decisions or was he what he seemed to be, a wanderer from beyond the Shining Paths that had been shipwrecked in a different reality.

Either way, his thoughts and emotions were unreadable at times; but there was no mistaking the alien orgasmic release of energy by the river when joining with the Princess and Harry to quicken the spawn above the pool beside River. Silas wondered at the abilities of that group; a wrinkle creased his forgettable face.

Sandra was refusing to co-operate with the daily reports on Harry and now Oldman. She had gone all moody and regal since the birth. Fucking Princesses, they were all a pain in the ass.

The rumble of the F-150 Harry drove sounded outside the door, giving him hope. He walked in the door. Immediately Oldman's thought engaged Silas, performing the ceremony of greeting. Silas placed a beer before Harry and began to talk.

"Glad you drove here instead of passing from the cavern. You must always be wary not to show up someplace without a clear trail behind you." He searched the humans eyes and thoughts.

Harry took a slow drink while looking at Silas. Even in the Great Hall he held the illusion of being human. He wondered why. Oldman informed him that he had held the illusion for so long it was ingrained.

Silas frowned as the question vanished from Harry's thought. His mind conveyed an image of his pale gold aura to them.

Harry nodded thoughtfully and took another drink. Silas began talking again before Harry descended into dreams.

"What you know about the Black Ones and their agents?"

"Agents?" Harry responded.

--Yeah Harry, like those two men in the in the canoe, Oldman informed him.

"Those were agents? That's why we left so fast? I really wanted a swim before we left too." Harry's expression changed to knit brow concentration as he and Oldman began communicating together silently. Silas rubbed away the frown on the illusion of his nondescript face. This was going to be more difficult than he imagined.

"Let's not get off track. I have little time to speak with you before your duties take you elsewhere. Forget the agents for the moment and tell me what you know about our greatest danger."

Harry thought about the dimly remembered conversations with Sandra last night. There was something about a cold heartless race, hidden among humanity; it was a blur within the drunken tour of Backwater as they popped back and forth between the burrows and the streets above while toasting the watch standers on duty. He searched Oldman's presence and received only a mental shrug. He had been as drunk on the emotions of the multitude last night as Harry was with drink.

"Not much," Harry said, then glanced around nervously as if one might appear at any moment. Silas sighed; if Harry confused the Formorians as much as him, then the probibility of his duplicity being known was low.

Harry's eyes flickered as he was summoned to service in the Great Hall. He straightened to find Silas eyes on his.

"I've got to go." Silas came around the bar, holding Harry's eyes, then grasping his hand tightly. His left hand held his arm above the elbow; he stared intently from inches away.

"If you have to go, the bush is there," he said, pointing with his chin at the mens room with a grin, then spoke within Harry's mind.

--Think of me before you return from below. Never pass without conformation. His eyes turned serious. Releasing Harry's arm he walked back around the bar, sat on his stool, and drew the illusion of a drunken barkeep around him once again.

Harry nodded without thought or word then entered the toilet and passed to the middle world where Gerry waited with his armor.

***

Harry and Oldman entered the chamber, immediately spying the floating shape that seemed to defy gravity; it was lit as if by a spotlight from the small hole centered above that illuminated it in the now covered pit of the second step. The white stone of that step currently looked to be a circle high above them, allowing light to pierce the shadows of the room. Rays from the sun high above the Great Hall spilled through the gap, splattered on the floor, then ran weakly upward to meet the light at the egress of the third step. Harry moved toward the craft in his armor, drawn in wonder.

It was if the drawings in his pad had suddenly become real. Its wings were thick, the same combined length as the body, and projected out so that the craft resembled a fat X. A hole was centered in the slanting nose of it; a small nozzle projected from the rear, three tail fins added stability there. It looked like a large glider; it was beautiful. The model that floated before him validated all his wild, what if's. It's creation was a priceless gift that pleased him. He dreamed of flying in one of its kind as his heart beat faster. His steps seemed quicker toward it.

--Nice work Harry.

--It is, isn't it. The stark white color was decaled with black emblems that, he assumed, were used as reference points. He thought that it would be fun to decorate it with a nice insect paint job. Oldman slapped Harry around the head, in playful jest, with an imaginary hand. His amused comments caused Harry to smile.

--Is there anything you will not paint? I can see the pulp rags now. 'WOMAN SEES GIANT INSECT'. Harry laughed with him as the image of the 'woman' ran screaming away in his mind.

Movement from the shadowed limits of illumination caught his eye, dismissed, as he advanced hungrily to the shape that hung like a leaf in space. Oldman noticed his awareness and spoke silently in his thoughts.

--Daniel and the council are there. Leonard approaches also. Harry looked to where Leonard, dressed in the glassine armor of the Fay, came striding to the edge of the undefined circumference of light; his ears and thoughts were pricked forward to them. The movement out of the darkness startled Harry; he would have reacted physically if not restrained by Oldman's tightened control. They continued to move to the object. Oldman swept the thought of the hill top images from Harry's mind and sought to calm him. 

--Steady, said Oldman in a whisper that was ludicrous in its volume. No one could hear their thoughts when conversing if he did not desire it. The artifice was successful.

Harry examined the craft without disturbance as the council slowly approached, surrounding it in silent wonder; they were mostly Daniels brothers, he was told. He could see their acceptance of his position here among them and the house of Sandra's father, Lord Sand; their interest in the results of his annexation, and the implications to the Shining People were apparent on their faces; the fact that he was a human, mated to a Princess of the Fay, separated him socially, at least for the moment. Their arrival slightly disturbed the two-meter model as the vagrant force of the air of nearby passage moved it.

Daniel moved to Harry's side. While Harry absorbed details, he absorbed Harry's completely concentrated attention. His actions continued to disturb Daniel in many ways; the ability to center his thoughts on a single point of curiosity was the most puzzling. How could he exclude all else from his mind, leave only a question there, an interest, or a scrutiny? Where were all the random minutia that cluttered other men's thought? When he entered the chamber, eye enveloping the image that hung in the void, his awareness of the council and those in the room showed in his thoughts. Yet, Leonard's appearance out of the shadows had rippled the waters of his conscious. Yes, Harry was disturbing. At last, they exchanged glances. Daniel looked to where Leonard waited and thought.

--You may begin. Leonard gave a nod and started manipulating a small device in his hands. A running narrative began in their combined thoughts as he held a demonstrative briefing.

--This is a model of assorted sketches found in Har ri na's drawing pads. Basically, it is operated on the same principals as a blimp is. Lifting gasses are used to raise the craft instead of aerodynamic airfoils and thrust. However, when the two different conventional methods are combined, there are distinct advantages.

--First, this new design negates the large sail area of the blimp and allows maneuverability and speed, much the same as a coracle is different from a rowboat.

--Second, after achieving altitude it is theoretically possible to navigate the ocean of air, tacking through it as a sailing vessel uses the wind.

--Third, if propulsion is lost it will not crash to the ground.

--If you will observe the rear of the model you will see how the steering will be used. The nozzle moved left and right then up and down; it curled under itself to point toward the front. The nozzle was very flexible and able to move in a complete circle in every direction except the reversing position. ...This relative simple device allows it to reverse its thrust. The ability is very desirable at low speeds, but is of negligible use at high speeds. It is better to use the drag of the sail area, turned against the forward motion, to negate momentum.

The craft began to move slowly backward with small applications of power. The nozzle returned to its rearward facing position and pushed the craft back to the center, then reversed again, coming to a near stop.

Tiny puffs of air, and subtle use of the projecting spout of the steering, brought the model to eye level; it began rotating in the middle of the rapt vision of the council.

--If you will look in the opening that passes through it, you will see the fan prop that is pulley driven from the motor hidden below. The drag is decreased with the bulk of the motor removed from the propulsion tube. Further applications of the design could include simple gearing, increasing speed. The low center of gravity, just behind the wings, increases handling performance. Leonard paused as Daniel began asking a question, then nodded.

--Yes, Lord, it has a center of gravity in spite of floating; you could say that the craft hangs from the gasses that support it. There are sketches of something called, lateral and horizontal trim balls that can reallocate the center of gravity; they are not used on this model but will be used when and if full scale prototypes are created. He gave another nod and turned back to the model.

--This craft is capable of spinning horizontally on its own axis at dead stop. It began turning left in a flat spin, rotating faster, until it wavered like a top on a tables surface. Centrifugal force caused it to wobble and then move upward in a spiral as Leonard fought to bring it back into control. ...Sorry, too much spin.

--It is so sensitive to movement. There are no control surfaces in this model. We strove only to demonstrate the primary functions. It became steady again, beginning a circumnavigation of the room. Slowly, turning on its wings, it followed the walls as if they were a floor; completing its circle, it turned back to the center of the room becoming level again.

--It is very stable at speeds that do not exceed its environment. A prototype able to carry small teams would be an excellent way of insertion and extraction. The model moved toward the floor, touching down lightly. Rotating on its tail, it buzzed with high thrust, jumping overhead. The sound of its reversed thrust was equally loud. It descended downward again, turning slowly, and began to move about the group in short bursts of speed and location while pointing its nose at members.

--It has impressive applications as an observation platform, if fitted with cameras. It continued to move around the group, hovering by one then another, coming very close. It was near silent as it passed Harry.

--It represents a respectable leap forward if merely used as an assignation device. The image of a payload of plastique played in their combined minds. The craft moved away to the wall, where the design crew packed it in a wooden box; they began opening another.

Harry's thoughts spun in his head as the implications of that statement and the graphic image that accompanied it. The continued martial tone of the meeting caused him to examine the inhabitants of the room as they gathered in murmuring conversation. Their features were deadly serious. The festive air, that they displayed the night before, was gone. All was business now; and that business was lethal, calculated, and deadly.

--It seems as if we have handed the people a keen sword with a sharp point and the knowledge to use that weapon. Oldman implied in their private rapport.

--Yes, but does the sword parry or thrust? Harry asked, quietly and with deep reflection.

--This next model, Leonard began, as he was handed a new control device.

--Next model, Daniel's interrupted thoughts exclaimed; he turned from the conference of minds.

--Yes Lord, Ger ri na said to build the craft; there were three versions in Harry's books and hints of even more variations. Daniel turned back to the group for a moment. Thought buzzed briefly, then he turned. The Council spread about the room to see the next demonstration.

--Continue, Daniel told him, intent again on the briefing.

--Yes Lord, Leonard replied, and turned back to his crew; they released a new design into the air. It was shaped like a long cylinder, tapered sharply back at both ends. The forward part started at the opening of the tunnel, sloping back to the nozzle surrounded by four stabilizing fins that returned tapering to the front, giving an appearance to the craft that suggested a rocket or spearhead.

--This model is less inclined to be disturbed by windy conditions due to the decreased area of resistance of its leading surfaces that also make it quite fast. It began to circle the room widely over their heads in ever-increasing speed. Leonard struggled with the controls as it whirled about the chamber and eventually skittered against the walls, going into wild gyrations as he strove to bring it to equilibrium again and move in careful control.

--We will remove to the Great Hall to continue the demonstration with your permission Lord Sand. Leonard said, and then began moving up the ramp toward the third step with Daniels gestured acquiescence.

--As with the other craft, it will be an excellent observation platform and assignation device. They progressed above the ceiling of the pit into the Great Hall. Leonard followed the model as if were a dog on a leash; he continued the brief while they moved into the wide expanse of the hall.

--We anticipate several applications of this craft, in addition the previously stated ones. It inserted itself sedately into the limbs of one of the oaks, resting there held in their grasp. ...It can be parked in arboreal locations and extracted at leisure due to its shape. It zoomed from the tree and circled the hall, coming near again and descending to rest near the group. ...This ability, in concert with a retransmitted signal, would allow us to leap frog these devices into hostile areas with little vulnerability such as detection and interception of cellular transmissions. In addition, as referenced by the perching demonstration, they will be unlikely to be detected high in trees and even harder to retrieve if found.

--Will the council please move to the sides of the hall while a final demonstration of this model is prepared? Across the hall, Leonard's team were raising a man-sized protrusion from a carpet of moss. The Fay gathered around the edges of the hall, watching closely, as the team completed their project and hurried away. Leonard continued his narration as his crew cleared the target area.

--In larger sizes, it should be an excellent craft for rapid long-range deployment; supporting facilities, between destination and point of embarkation, would be needed as necessary and available.

Interest and questions interrupted him with this statement. Leonard waved them away with gestures of forbearance, explaining. ...We did not examine the logistics of such an operation. It was not in our venue of instruction. We only investigated capabilities and possibilities. There are those that are much more qualified to evaluate the needs of such preparation.

Murmurs of thought among the group were silenced by Daniel, who was stroking his beard in a thoughtful manner.

--Continue. Leonard lowered his head to Daniel.

--Yes my Lord. As before stated, once again it is a proficient assignation device. If you will observe the demonstration area closely, you will see how this simple method is accomplished. The model moved over them, pointing down range. The sound of the propeller inside the model rose in a bumblebee like buzzing as it flashed far across the floor and struck the pseudo figure, breaking both figure and craft violently.

--It is an adequate kinetic weapon if spent. The council drew about the simulated carnage; questions flew.

--Holy Shit! Oldman said in surprise, ...can you imagine getting hit by that?

--Terminal velocity is about 200 KPH on impact with this model and range. The speed will vary with size and distance to target, but the effect will be much the same, Leonard answered to a question. Harry had never envisioned his creation as a weapon. The references to its being an assignation device was disturbing, but this graphic representation of its capabilities shocked him.

--No my Lord it still has mass even though it floats. That mass is transferred to the target on impact. The dead weight of the craft is approximately one half kilo. No Lord, we are restricted to final determination of evolution by two variables that must be balanced. To elaborate, the craft will be designed for the desired payload or the payload will be adjusted to the final determination of the size of the craft. There are certain security issues that are related to the craft as size increases.

***

A hand interrupted Harry's contemplation of the damaged remains of craft and target. He turned, looking at Gerry in dazed thought as Leonard answered more disturbing questions.

--Does it work as you envisioned? Gerry asked quietly, looking interestedly into Harry's well comprehending thoughts of the more arcane capabilities of his creation.

--Far better, I want to be nowhere near the culmination of such a meeting. There are certain refinements that would be equally as lethal without loss of the vehicle. Gerry laughed out loud the began speaking within Harry's thoughts again.

--I'll take you to the courthouse to meet Sandra after you finish here. We will pick up Maddie at the station after you tie your legal life to Sandra. Then, it's off to Tunica for your honeymoon.

Daniel brought the meeting back to order as the light in the hall began to change with afternoons nearing approach.

--If we could examine the last model, Gentle Fay; then we will adjourn to discuss their applications and our alternatives to pending, ongoing, and future operations. Leonard, if you please.

--Operations? Oldman thought nervously. They were standing in the middle of a armed camp. He became silent as Leonard began again.

--This craft is very maneuverable as you will see. If you will please brighten your auras. A black shape became visible, drifting about the hall, moving transversely from side to side. At times, it was near the limits of Harry's human sight as it flew high above the tops of the oaks, then plunged rapidly to skim over the floor and back up again. Circling and descending over the group, it held above them for closer examination.




Chosen Mate Ch. 08



It was a long, stretched, half-ovoid shape; the slightly flattened bottom curved up to meet the sides of the craft. The thrust tube, centered near the bottom of the craft, terminated at the end in the same configuration as the others. Three short triangular tail fins, at the rear, sprouted around the uniquely controllable nozzle of its steering. It turned, horizontally then vertically, giving all a close look at the alien looking craft. The contracted wings expanded and were manipulated by Leonard in a variety of configurations.

--This craft has the greatest benefit of the three. Its control surfaces are able to mimic those of airborne creatures. ...From the floating of a butterfly... It spiraled around the room with expanded wings, moving upward quietly. ...To the stoop of a hunting hawk; it turned downward, high above, and dropped like an arrow rapidly, wings folded against its body. It expanded its wings, curling them inward, to cup the air and bring itself to a halt over the heads of the council. They exclaimed as the displaced air of its sudden deceleration played briefly over them. It made a few more passes of the hall, demonstrating its speed and agility, then floated to where the team began packing it up for storage.

--This model would make a superlative fighter. The obvious advantage would be the ability to avoid the close ground limitation of conventional airframes that are bound by high weight and inertia, forcing them to use power and flight surfaces to keep aloft. He paused. ...I will conclude with a summation of our thoughts and recomendations with your permission, Lord Sand.

Leonard waited while the group drew close together in conversation. Excitement radiated from them in mental waves of conjecture and anticipation. At last, Daniel broke away from the group.

--Continue Leonard. You have given us much to contemplate; my mate calls me to lunch and there is still one other matter before we adjourn. Light chuckling laughter accompanied his final words as Leonard collected his thoughts and began his summation.

--The advantages of these LTA's are unprecedented. To use Oldman's words, 'They are not just bags of air pushed around the sky', but true aircraft, capable of complex, coordinated movement. In addition to their use as offensive weapons, they possess a stealth capability that will greatly increase covert operations and allow extended loitering times as those operations are enjoined. He looked at Harry. ...If used for conventional methods of mass transportation, they would be very safe, except in catastrophic accidents such as collisions with established airframes. He paused once more and continued.

--There are some problems with high altitudes, such as the rupture of the gas envelope, but even in this event the craft would retain its aerodynamic capability and be able to descend safely. This brings up another interesting observation.

--None of these models have the traditional landing gear found in conventional airframes; it is thought that not only are they not needed, but unnecessary for any future use; the weight reduction of mechanical devices to deploy and retract them, and the reduction of drag co-efficient from fixed configuration is most desirable. The one instance in which they would be advantageous would be a careful mimicking of accepted craft in an attempt to disguise the true nature of their abilities.

--In conclusion, these are difficult to control in windy conditions; the incorporation of microprocessor augmentation of the controls is very highly recommended, especially in the last model we demonstrated which will be the most expensive to construct. Propulsion and weapon payload weights should be very carefully considered in its final configuration. As to simple logistics, we recommend acquiring extensive hanger facilities and privately owned airfields, preferably in as remote areas as possible, before prototypes of any manned craft are constructed. I would add that no one outside of our people should be allowed to view these craft. Leonard stopped with a half bow and waited.

--I think we will adjourn now with one short ceremony. Daniel said. ...Har ri na, join me in service at the second step.

--Think we'll jump again? Oldman laughed, as Harry's eyes moved from Leonard to Daniel.

Harry put his helmet on his head, sealing it to the laughter of the encircling council, then moved to the circle of white stone unhesitatingly and awaited Daniels approach with Gerry, who held a carved wooden box that he opened before him. Daniel removed a glassine object from the box with his right hand then held it high on Harry's arm and held his left to Harry.

--Clasp my hand. Harry took the proffered hand. Daniel began glowing brightly as his aura became blindingly apparent with crackling energy. ...This ceremony was neglected last night during the presentation of mating. The people were in such a hurry to see their beloved Princess mated, and our times of celebration have been few.

He glowed stronger; the energy about him flowed along his arm and into his hand, that shimmered like the forge of a blacksmith. Harry felt the heat through the suit as the round medallion melted and flowed into the material of the suit becoming a rosette of fins and scales.

--Here is the mark of my service that shows all that you are bound to the command and duty of the Shining People. Daniel moved back to the box and returned with a second object in his left hand and extended his right. Harry took without instruction. Daniel again glowed intensely.

--This if the mark of favor and accomplishment, awarded for your gift of these craft. Their conception in your dreams will be a pivot point in the fortunes of the Shining People. The medallion melted and fused into an identical mark on his right arm. ...Go now in my service and favor to free our people from persecution. He turned, walking away to his waiting councilors. Harry called after him.

--Wait Daniel, excuse me, Lord Sand, I mean. Daniel turned with an inquisitive look in his eye, saying.

--There is no need to stand on ceremony here. Speak freely to me of your thoughts or concerns. Harry sighed and began.

--There is much in my mind that will never be known. My dreams are like a well that is dipped from by the bucket of my thoughts; the bucket has an ever-changing form that may sooth my thirst or drown me with inundations. The water of that well is mostly sweet but occasionally the taste is bitter, as is the knowledge of all the craft is capable of. Daniel nodded and spoke with sorrow in his thoughts and deep feelings for all races and creatures.

--We desire these things neither but our people would be free of hiding. His eyes moved to the waiting Fay by the dais with many questions in their minds and made to join them.

--Daniel, my friend, there is more I must say. Harry called, then paused as the quirking smile and inquisitive eyebrows turned to him once again.

--There is a task I must perform before beginning those you have set before me. I believe that it would be in the best interest of the people. I cannot tell you but it concerns my dreams and the hill behind my shop and something else seen, that was unseen, until it was seen. He said in reference to the green armor of the hill.

--There may be some danger also, Oldman said.

--You call me friend, Daniel began, and searched Harry's eyes. ... I reply in kind, for a friend is admired and trusted. But tell me; Does Sandra know of these dreams?

--We've told no one, Lord Sand. Harry's worry for his sanity has concerned him; it was assuaged by Sandra's declaration; that development has kept him busy this past week. Oldman chuckled. ...We must do this alone.

--No. Harry said. We need one more.

--If you're thinking of taking Sandra then you can leave me here. Daniels eyebrows knit for a moment then he guffawed in a hearty laugh, his humor turned with him to those waiting.

--Who will hold Oldman's mind for him while Harry goes to the hilltop? Startlement came from the thoughts and bodies of the council as they seemed to shy back toward the safety of the dais. Daniel mirrored his delighted laugh again, turning to the pair before him. His raised brow contemplated the presence of Oldman.

--No volunteers Quick Wit. He looked to Gerry's serene visage. ...Who do you require then, if not my daughter? Gerry would go if asked. I think he likes his position on your left.

--I will take Mira with your permission Lord.

--She has attached herself to Sandra, but she may go if she so desires. How will you prevent Sandra from going with you?

--We were hoping you could help us with that. By the way, Sandra's on her way here as soon as they find a spot to park near the bar, Oldman informed him casually.

--They? Questioned Harry, looking at Gerry's and Daniels pained expressions.

--Yes. said Gerry, as he searched in his mind. ...We're about to be graced with the rest of the family. Daniel whirled into movement, turning to command.

--Leo nar di, raise a table; call for food and drink; brothers come. A wave to the council brought them toward the raised table; they created seats about it in comfortable arrangements that revealed the structure of their group as certain Fay seemed to congregate together.

--Break out the first model and bring the control while I prepare the table. He began raising bumps on the tabletop. The sand moved under his hands, deftly molding the grains that were soon recognized as the topography around Harry's house. Then he sat back to look at it; a cup of ale was placed in his hand.

--Does that seem correct? I did not study long the contours and there were many, anyone? He looked around the room as he stood resting his hand on the wide flat rim surrounding the simulation. One of Leonard's team came forward, moving his hands over the table, then stepped away.

--Yes, that's it; I must go there. Harry said, leaning forward and placing a finger on spot high on the hill; it glowed red with his touch.

--How long will this take for you to perform this task, Harry? Can you give me an estimate? Oldman and Harry looked into each others thoughts.

--May we confer for a moment, Lord, Oldman said, stopping Harry from replying. Daniel waved a mental hand of acceptance, looking to a kindly looking Fay across the table.

--Store this and bring up the west and the river valleys. He talked while marking points of interest on the new map. Harry and Oldman retreated to a private room in their thoughts.

--Why are we doing this? Harry asked, anxious to be away and end the mystery that haunted them.

--What are you planning? Just walk up there and yell for him?

--I was thinking more on the lines of a quiet knock. Harry said as his thoughts moved to the problem.

--Hello, anybody home, Oldman mocked. ...that's your big idea? And why include Mira? Let's bring the troops; there's enough of them around.

--No, you don't see. What would you do if armed men were standing at your front door?

--Sure wouldn't let them in, given the choice. Okay, I understand your reasoning, but what if he's not a friendly person?

--Let's hope the troops aren't far off, Harry said. If all else fails, run like hell. They were interrupted.

--Ale, Har ri na? He turned, accepting drink and found Mira's lavender globe floating there. He took the cup and raised it.

--Mira, I greet you. Do you know why you are here?

--Only that you require my service, Har ri na. She answered in a sincere thought.

--There may be danger, but we don't know exactly what. There may be much to tell afterwards. Oldman said, examining her thoughts closely.

--Or not, if the door cannot or will not be opened. Harry replied absently, as he cast about in search of an organized plan of action.

Mira looked to the man from whom the two thoughts spoke to her. Great things, mysterious things, followed him like puppies. She was curious to see what new dog crossed his path.

--I missed the excitement of the mating ceremony; if there is a chance of such, I will gladly go. As to the danger, I have run from the Black Ones before; I am swift. Her globular aura pulsed with pride, both from her declaration of speed and the honor of being selected to accompany the Dreamer into unknown adventure.

--Well that's settled. Oldman began, then added. ...Oh no.

***

Margay came through the portal of oaks and into the Great Hall with Sandra and Donna flanking her. They flew above the ground, not swiftly, but with a sedate ponderous approach that instilled a feeling of intimidation on him.

Harry drank from his cup; his mouth was suddenly dry as he felt the thoughts of Sandra about him and her eyes upon Mira. He looked over his cup to Daniel and Gerry and could see that they were both under the same scrutiny and were well acquainted with the tactic.

The three arrived at the table; their movement did not change, even as they began to walk instead of fly. Margay strode about the table, examining the occupants that were busy about it with food, drink, and conversation. Her eyes flickered to the model floating over the table, then settled on Daniel while Sandra and Donna enveloped the meeting and came near their mates.

--What mischief are you about Daniel? Her clear sweet thoughts inquired in honeyed interrogation as her shrewd eyes held his innocent silver ones. Donna had the same expression as she looked into Gerry's eyes that revealed nothing as he sipped from his cup; his free hand played in soft caresses about her waist with accustomed ease. Sandra's hand came to rest gently on Harry's shoulder. Oldman held his body tight but Harry's mind revealed his startled thoughts; her mind moved over his searching.

--We are examining the craft designed from Har ri na's drawings and speaking of its uses from which will spring great mischief. Daniel replied truthfully and smoothly.

--Leo nar di, demonstrate the craft. It began moving; Leonard began his narration again. Once more, the golden eyes flickered to it, and then moved about the council as she stalked around the table. Her eyes fell on Harry momentarily and he felt illuminated by the great golden searchlights of their gaze as it examined him then passed on. She came to a halt behind Daniel and played with his hair, smoothing it with nonchalance as she spoke again.

--Mischief enough, but that is not what I spoke of. What are the words the Oldman used Sandra?

--'There may be some danger.' Are the words I was told were used. I wouldn't know exactly, they came not from my mate. Her thoughts were accusing as they continued searching Oldman's presence.

--You spy on my council daughter? Daniel began, trying to change the subject with feigned outrage.

--We watch the interests of the people, Mate. Margay said gently. ...Our service of information is always needed. There is much that interests the people here. Daniel laughed and stood; his eyes passed over those at the table, and then rested on Harry.

--Har ri na, you see the true strength of the Shining People. He said as his cup indicated the three women with a gesture. ...Our ministry of information; there is little they do not know or ferret out in their service, no matter how trivial, once their interest falls on it. Way ne ah, restore the representation of Harry's interest and replay our conversation.

Wayne was the recorder of the meeting. He swiftly brought the topographical representation up on the table and replayed the conversations with a gauzy tapestry of mental images. Sandra watched intently.

--I understand and concur with all that has been said, but why do you refuse to allow me to come with you? There was some hurt in her thoughts as she communicated her feelings to him.

--You are my lifeline. You have saved me once from the depths of the shining paths. I believe our bond will do so again if needed. She glanced to Daniel and he nodded.

--If I cannot protect you from danger at least I can extract you from it. She said, moving over the representation of the hill, speaking quickly, marking positions on it, and issuing commands with an ease that gave Harry pause as he observed her.

--The command post will be here. Condition Alpha is to be implemented immediately; Mark time.

--Clock running, said the kindly faced Fay whose name was Wayne. The council were apparently members of the command structure also. They began relaying instructions in discrete private communication and conferring among themselves. The glowing lights of lesser Fay began to move around the hall in reaction to the activity that was occurring at the table.

--The warehouse under the shop will hold a fully armed heavy reactionary force standing by as events unfold. She placed a finger on the spot; it glowed green. ...call sign Sword. Leonards team will infiltrate from this road in normally disguised appearance with light hunting rifles and take position here as an O.P. so that the eastern approaches and the south side of the ridge are secured from unseen intrusion. Call sign Hawk. She traced lines of approach then dotted them with the position to be taken with a green spot. A second team will take place here on the western end of the ridge and deploy through the forested slopes there and hold to communicate any penetration through these heavily wooded areas... She looked to Gerry, receiving information or suggestions that were unheard by Harry.

--Call sign Badger. She continued. ...A mobile team here will patrol along the road that parallels the western approaches relaying any traffic. Again, a slight look to Gerry brought a response. ...Call sign Snake, She stopped and considered her deployments, then looked to her father. He nodded as his prideful eyes examined her.

--Maybe we should go ahead and tell her. Harry said privately to Oldman. He looked into her thoughts and decided that she just might double the force if he revealed all his knowledge.

--A little much for a walk in the woods don't you think? Oldman said sarcastically.

--Tell me of Harry's Dream and I will reduce the deployment of the people. She paused, her thought hard on Oldman. ...Or not. Silence stood between their thoughts in the middle of organized mayhem.

--Still mad I said nothing? Oldman said to her petulant presence. She turned her thoughts on him angrily.

--You still say nothing. Why do you not tell me, mate. She asked of Oldman, hurt evident in face and mind.

--I have held your secrets from Harry, should I have told him all that was evident to me?

--You have held secrets from me my lady? Harry asked. Oldman interrupted.

--Of course Harry. I've known from the first night you went out with her. My mind was shackled with yours then; I was bound by your sight and hearing. But I can see and hear what you do.

--Nonsense, Sandra said. There would be nothing to see; she was unsure and it showed in her face.

--That right sweetheart, but I did; from the first twitch of your pretty little ear to the wings on your tattoo. Your Father chastising Bob and Billy on the hill above the graveyard was a dead giveaway. Did you know how fast Billy can fly?

Sandra turned to her father then Donna and Margay. They gave a negating motion with their heads then looked accusingly at Daniel. Gerry's head was bowed; his features and thoughts were hidden.

Daniel stood, and looked about him in exasperation, then spat.

--Tattoo? Will we have a family quarrel in the middle of a Condition Alpha? Stand down Alpha and initiate Intruder. All eyes. Status report on Dreamer O.P.

--Hawk reports infiltrating, no contacts. Badger and Snake moving. Sword assembling. Wayne reported, with his eyes up cast. ...Situation normal. His eyes glanced about the family.

Daniel turned about, his gaze moved over the Great Hall and its activity. By this time, there were a respectable number of Fay in full armor standing near, helmets sealed and ready. The trees around the hall shimmered with the glow of lesser Fay, charging in the imaginary afternoon sun of the Middle World; reports and activity abounded at the table as they coordinated in preparation.




Chosen Mate Ch. 08



--Harry you may report to Sword for embarkation; do you need anything else? Daniel asked.

--A jug of something wet would be welcome... and a bush if we're over long starting this. He waved an arm around the silent mayhem standing around him. Draining his cup, he turned with Gerry as if to go.

--Will you take a weapon? Sandra asked hopefully.

"God no!" Harry exclaimed as the qustion made him forget to think his answer. Looking closely into her eyes that were melted with the intense emotions there. He drew near and kissed her softly.

--Where's Ma'am? Donna spoke up quickly as she moved to touch Gerry before he left with Harry.

--Maddie is shopping for the honeymoon trip. She has not been to Memphis for a long time and is very excited. She is closely attended, brother. Harry looked at her while Daniel spoke.

--Good, I have no further amendments. Sandra, Donna, and Margay will remain with the council as events unfold. Gerry will take command of Sword.

Gerry took Harry arm, hurrying him away from the hectic activity in the hall, and moved to where a passage led away arrow straight into the distance. Mira followed behind.

--Follow this to the end; the warehouse is there; there are no turnings yet. I must get my armor. Then he flew away down the hall. Harry looked into the distance of the passage and began running.

Harry decided he liked running in the shining suit; it was effortless. The legs of it compensated for his maimed limbs and made them feel as natural as they did before. He was well down the passage when Gerry caught up with him. He had a grin on his face that slipped back and forth from a tooth-bared smile.

--Mira run ahead and go to where the Cedars end, and the road continues through the wood. Wait there beside the fence and make sure we are alone except for the creatures that live there. She zoomed forward while Harry pumped along beside Gerry, who matched his stride with ease. Harry saw the entrance to the warehouse approaching. They jogged across it to the center where Gerry stopped. Some twenty 'suits waited there. Harry looked up into the dim ceiling above him. Gerry chuckled.

--Close your eyes and try to 'see' yourself standing in the shop in your thoughts, Harry; then, open them when see it.

***

--Sword Actual reports, on station. Dreamer is beginning to embark. Mira confirms visual. Dreamer is in the bush, said Wayne with a scantily disguised smile. Sandra strode about the table, while Daniel ate his delayed lunch and watched the board. He looked to Wayne who gave thumbs up and a grin.

--Say situation. Sandra requested.

--Hawk standing by. Area is clear. Badger standing by. Area is clear. Snake is patrolling the creek bottoms south of target area. Minimal traffic. No threats. Mira reports beginning assent with Dreamer. Dreamer is singing. A chuckle of laughter ran around the table. Wayne updated the 'map' table.

--She will be upset she had no code name. Sandra said absently, as she waited for further reports. Daniel glanced at her questioning, then saw her intent.

--Assign code name Guardian. He said with a smile. Sandra's distracted smile played briefly on her lips.

--Guardian reports affirmative. Dreamer is holding for her recon. Five minutes. It seemed like five hours to Sandra.

***

Mira moved up the hill, silently, extending her senses and finding nothing amiss, but kept double-checking, as she moved up to the old stump of a large tree. She hovered over it, scanning the ground far below it that surrounded a small lake nestled in a declivity of the hills. She felt nothing alien in the place and saw only the swift random movement of birds. She descended to Harry's impatient thoughts.

Oldman was distracting Harry's singing as they waited for Mira to return from her inspection of the ground ahead. He had no intention of running into anyone in the silvered suit by accident. At last, he gave up his singing and listened half-heartedly while Oldman talked of the environment of balance. His impatience gave very gradually to the droning repetitive words in his mind and began to examine them.

Mira returned with the report that all was clear of foreign and disruptive influences and they proceeded upward to the large stump that was a childhood hunting place.

***

Guardian reports Dreamer is moving to next hold point. Advises that this will be indeterminate. Area clear. Guardian is ascending to target area. Snake is returning from the south, Traffic normal. Sandra looked at the updated map, anxious to have this torturous waiting ended. Oldman would not answer her inquiries though she knew he heard her, and Harry most likely didn't even hear Oldman in his own mind if he was distracted.

--It's all about your environment. Oldman continued in his lecturing thought. Harry settled back against the four-meter stump of the old oak that he had hunted squirrel from in his youth. He glanced at the jug beside him and thirsted for a drink of the long consumed days of younger years. He sighed and made himself comfortable as Oldman words blanketed him in the drowsy warmth of extended lecture.

--I'm sorry I shot the squirrels. I didn't need the food. He said suddenly, ashamed. Oldman looked at the dusty images of those memories.

--I know you are Harry. Youth is like that in all races. Rest and listen; forgive your youth. Now where was I? He paused, waiting for Harry to focus his thoughts once more and answer.

--Environment. Harry replied at length. ...Go ahead.

--There are many types that far outstrip the usual meaning of the word as relates to the relationship of nature. Physical, mental, global, political, regional, spatial. Oldman rattled on as Harry's thoughts wandered near the boundary of the Shining Paths. 

Harry drifted under the mantra of words that appeared in his mind. He realized that there were many he had not been aware of, and felt as if he were adrift in their ocean of implications, floating over the surface.

--Guardian reports target area clear. Returning previous hold point. Wayne's eyebrows lifted high as his face turned to Sandra, Daniel, Donna, and Margay; ...Dreamer is unresponsive. Guardian requests instructions. He waited for a command, looking only to Sandra who was very calm as she reached out carefully along the golden thread that joined her to Harry and Oldman, peeking into their thoughts then withdrew before she disturbed them.

--He searches among his dreams. Sandra said quietly. ...Send to Guardian; standoff, hold, and observe passively. Sandra settled into Harry's vacated chair and picked up his empty cup, turning it absently in her hands as the long afternoon neared twilight.

***

Oldman stopped his repetitive litany of the categories of environmental relations as he felt Harry begin to slip deep into the blanket of his thoughts. Watching, as the vision in them expanded outward in a wave of awareness that moved away from them as if it were a sound or a touch, some disturbance that seemed as natural as the calls of the birds that were settling for the night.

Mira slipped next to them; her wide-eyed thoughts considered Harry's catatonic body. A moment later Oldman felt Sandra's inquisitive glance that retreated even as his mental eye flickered toward it. Mira held very still for a moment, then moved away down slope but not far.

Oldman returned to Harry's thoughts, beholding the incrementally outward expanding mental picture of the hill, the life on it, Maddie, Max, and the cats, all at the house. Then further, he moved across field, stream, county, state. He saw the bright sparks of the people and of his children scattered along creeks, tributaries, and rivers. There was Quick far away with his siblings that had survived the journey to the swamps and bayous near New Orleans. He imagined he heard the microwave 'ding' that he had mimicked on the night of his birth.

His vision expanded like the turning of a ring of binoculars that increased sight. Life moved like a single organism over the continent. It split, flew, multiplied and spread to other continents in a tangled web of vehicle and media. His thoughts turned around the world watching it while it revolved. Vast moving lights of the life in the oceans swirled and eddied around great dead patches of water. He thought of the dead squirrels and the image fell in on itself rapidly. He came back to his body with a gasp of intaken breath.

"Environmental awarenesssssssssssssss" Harry exhaled into the night. Oldman felt the sound fade into a faint hiss like the sound that old analog T.V.s made with no input and the volume turned low; shivers ran over his mind as their connection was broken. He looked about and considered the hill, ghostly under the moonlight, and wondered where the day had gone; he peered into Harry's thoughts again, cautiously.

Harry extended his awareness, his floating mental image drifted up the final slope to the cathedral like floor under the trees and floated below the summit. He swam toward the notch in the hill where the entrance to the chamber of trees looked into the long extending area of the ridge under the hilltop. He floated in the waters of his mind again on the surface of the ocean of implications searching for the place he had first blundered into the Green Warrior. He magnified his awareness, but in micro instead of macro adjustment.

Oldman began began to move Harry's body toward the notch, stroking through the underbrush in the silvered suit that reflected moon and foliage in strange wavering shapes across its surface. Its rustling passage to where Harry's conscious hovered over the stone from his first blunder into the green man was eerie.

--Guardian reports, Dreamer is moving. Wayne began.

--At last, Sandra exclaimed, turning to him. ...What is he doing? Wayne appeared mystified and apprehensive as he answered her.

--He appears to be crawling up the hill to the target area. Sandra took several hesitating steps toward the arch of the Great Hall. Daniel stood hurriedly before she could bolt down the corridor and enfolded her to his breast. He held on squeezing her; speaking in her ear that twitched in his soft breath as he reassured her with soothing words. Donna's heart leapt in her as she remembered the calming conversations, between frustrated periods of vile temper, as he struggled to provide a safer and profitable existence for their people.

"He's fine. You knew he was a strange man when you mated him. He may think he should sneak up on the target."

--Say status, he called with his thoughts, looking to the table.

--All call signs report normal. Guardian reports, Dreamer is curled on the ground at target.

--Oldman says nothing? He asked, glancing at Margay and Donna holding hands close together, then to Wayne who shook his head in negation, and bent again over the red dot of Harry's location.

--Oldman is mad, but he's wrong too. Sandra said from his arms. ...He won't talk to me. Harry has gone so deep this time. Oldman should move his body if he stays over long. Sandra whispered into her Fathers chest.

--Guardian reports, Dreamer is moving. Wayne straightened then stopped with a surprised look and added. ...Dreamer Actual is not moving, its Oldman. Dreamer Actual does not appear to be in the target area unless he is masking his thoughts very tightly, Errrr. ...Dreamer two is breaking a branch into lengths, returning to target area. Striking earth. He sat up, an inquisitive look on his face.

--Guardian reports, Dreamer and Oldman are gone. She says they walked away into ...nothing. Guardian requests instructions. His head bent slightly as he received a thought. He rose surprised. ...Dreamer is back. His head bobbed suddenly. ...He's not alone. Guardian is moving to target. He stopped talking and sat back in his chair and drank deeply from his cup.

Daniel released Sandra and turned to Wayne.

--Well? What is happening now? Say status he said irritability. Wayne looked at him.

--They are all gone. He drank from his cup again, eyes turned about the table. ...Guardian is gone. Dreamer is gone, again. The Green Warrior is gone. Hawk reports, clear; Badger, clear. Snake parked on south road, no contacts. Sword reports, standing by ready for action. His eyes searched the depths of the cup, then he spoke again.

--Guardian sent one last message before she ...left. She spoke it.

Margay interrupted, standing to her feet. Her eyes were wild and incredulous.

--You said there was a Green Warrior? Her hand gripped Donna's tightly, clinging to the safe point of her daughters presence.

--What was the message? Sandra asked, holding onto the back of a chair as if not able to hold herself up. Wayne's face moved, trembling in eye crinkling anticipation, as a mad smile played at his lips.

"Momentous steps" he said into the stilled room. Sandra fainted against the chair and tumbled to the ground. Donna and Margay rushed to her, cradling her head in their laps.

Daniel turned slowly, standing as he did so, and followed his feet, head bowed at first, then slowly raising and turning about the Great Hall; he looked at those who waited there with him. They were greatly concerned. He smiled widely at them and commanded in booming voice and mind.

"Drink for everyone." ...This is wonderful news. All call signs, stand down, eight hour shifts. Cancel Intruder; send for Sword Actual. The council looked about themselves, then at Wayne's smile of triumph and thoughts of the toasting at the riotous end of the party last night as he relayed Daniels command. His smile was infectious, and mirth soon spread on their faces as they accepted fresh drink and stood. Daniel was looking to Sandra with some concern as she began to move, sitting up with head pillowed on Margay's breast. A puzzled look warred with the grin on his face as he asked.

--What is wrong with her? He asked. Sandra smiled weakly and regained her feet, supported by mother and sister, calling for water.

--I'm pregnant father. It seemed he would faint also as he was steadied by Gerry's arriving hand.

--How long? He asked looking to Margay and receiving an answer. ...Of course, he said.

--What is happening? Gerry asked. His eyes narrowed then widened as Donna told him; he looked to Sandra who held the cup of water looking into it as if she might see an answer there.

Daniel raised his cup high and turned to the hall full of his people who raised theirs with him and roared a war cry of triumph.

"Momentous steps!" The answering voices of the people, seldom used, hurled the cry back in thundering reply.



Chosen Mate Ch. 09



Harry's notes: More on the short introduction of Ad Primus Rem. New characters. Some answers. Enjoy, and please talk to me; am I amusing you?




Harry let his body fall to the ground when it reached his position, centered above the spot where the crackling paths of connection met and writhed around his mind; his body curled into a fetal shape, discarded below his imagination; he looked about, feeling as if he were in a room with a project pending that could be hurriedly completed from the unlabeled bins in that room, stuffed with parts and pieces. Those bins must be inventoried before any progress was made. It was an unorganized environment of chaos, in neat little packages.

That gave Oldman food for thought, his favorite dish. He studied the construct formed in Harry's thought. Words came from him in a questioned phrase, as he examined the configuration created in Harry's mind from many perspectives.

--Do you mean, Organized Environment? He questioned. Silence, then Harry's body took a great breath of air.

"Awarenessssssssssssss" The exhaled word carried away in the night becoming sibilant hissing static.

Oldman felt a prickling, as if hair stood from his mind. He examined the bins, shifting them into a pleasing arrangement. Harry's thoughts moved quickly, centering in the chilling, crackling lines of force as they expanded across the boundaries of all environments. It felt as if the very air around him was being wadded, twisted, and torn in the nearness of his concentrated manifestation. Harry studied the phenomenon from new perspective. A sheened globe, like a great soap bubble, popped into existence around them.

They hung in a silent bubbled doorway of Harry's conscious; the shining paths led away in all directions under the sheltering trees below the summit. A questing intensity came from his presence, answered by Oldman, as he occupied the body in the shining suit to stand and walk over the leaf-carpeted floor to a nearby deadfall. He began breaking a stout limb from it easily with the strength of the armored suit.

--There is only one thing to do. It's your idea after all. Oldman said, striding back to the stone where Harry hovered among the nest of writhing paths. He raised the make shift staff high, saying forcefully.

--Knock! He struck the limb against the stone with a force that sent shattered shards and splinters about the nexus, then threw the broken remainder to the ground. The sound of the three mighty strikes rebounded in the silence.

THRUMumum, THRUMumum, THRUMumum.

***

Mira looked to where Oldman struck the limb against the earth. The sound echoed away over the hills; she watched the silver suit pause to look around itself and then turned and walked away into nothing. She reported, asking for instructions, while watching the empty spot on the hill with surprise. All had seemed a pleasant lark until now, except for the strange actions and behavior of Harry. Now, she had lost him; She turned about the empty hill, searching for any hint of him.

***

A strand of shining path began to tremble as if a spider crawled over it toward prey; it became still again.

--Label that one for sure, muttered Oldman. They walked a short way along it, setting off their own trembling reaction of the path. Harry's awareness moved back into his body as they halted, looking down into the distance of it.

A green nimbus came toward them; hissing sound grew as did the image that was seen to be the Green Warrior, striding into sight as he had when first encountered by Harry. The moon lit shadows of the forest floor appeared as a window high above yet near.

He stopped a short distance away; they studied each other. It was apparent he was Fay; his mind was as distinguishable as if a man and animal were standing together. Harry hesitated, and then took a step toward the glowing green figure. He peered into the smoked lenses that made the eyes of the owl helmet and blinked in surprise as they became clear. A huge pair of magnified eyes looked back; they were green as good emeralds and seemed to hold their luster too. The effect was unexpected and eerie; he found himself a step away without conscious volition.

They stood in close proximity; their thoughts held closely. The green man looked intently, as his enormous eyes searched over Harry's features, and then he spoke. The sound of his thought felt ancient, weary yet strong in its obligation to interdict intruders. The sword was held ready in its hand.

--You are the one who blundered about my door, he accused. ...I followed you in my thoughts until I fell asleep one night and then woke the next morning with a blinding head. You slipped from my thoughts like a fish wiggling about in the hand and falling back into the stream. Now you knock on my door that has not seen visitors in many times. You wear the shining armor of my people although you are human. The cloak of mating hangs from your shoulders and the love of her shines forth strongly over your armor in royal colors. The icon of service is on your left arm and an emblem of achievement on your right. You stand alone before me with no sword.

--Well, he's not exactly alone. Oldman said in a matter of fact thought. The green man's thought was like an untaken breath, though he never moved. The magnified eyes narrowed as he processed the knowledge.

--A Dreamers familiar! He said in surprise.

Harry noticed that no cloak hung from the green armor and felt a pang of sympathy, easily read by the warrior before him, and commented.

--You have felt the soul fire also; he said in thought that revealed his own cured pain.

--It burns in him still, Oldman declared. ...He has seen eons of the smoldering coals fed stingily by despair and duty. A burst of amusement emanated from the green warrior.

--You are truly a thief of thoughts. He said, searching Oldman's presence.

--You are no slouch yourself. Tell me, do you play poker?

--No, but I think I would like to. He answered, searching Oldman's seemingly open thoughts and examining rules, play, and nuances.

Harry raised questioning eyebrows, and then realized that they were not visible under the scaled helm. He unsealed his helmet and removed it, revealing his bespectacled hirsute face.

--Excuse me, will you accompany us to the entrance for a moment. Harry asked, as the conversation veered away from more pressing things.

--I will stand in the doorway; I can go no further. Harry looked puzzled for a moment, then realized it was because of duty, not inability that he must stay within the path that led elsewhere.

--Come then, he said with a smile, moving the few short steps to where the forest sheltered the notch of the hill.

***

Mira watched closely for any sign of Harry's return and waited for instructions. A short time passed and he came striding out of nothing again. He called for her and the jug that had accompanied them to the summit, then waited as she stood beside them, looking into at the strangers eyes that returned her stare keenly.

--A young one, the green warrior thought in wonder at the first Fay seen in eons.

--Not so young! Mira said, burning brighter with emotion and action. Her colored globe swirled with fiery brilliance, expanding and then contracting into a wisp of a young woman; her slender form looked to the green man with the prideful reality of her new found maturity. Her lavender aura waved in irritated wing like ripples.

--Your pardon, my lady. He said, with a sweeping movement of sword and arm; ...I meant no offence.

--Mira send, "momentous steps." Harry held out his hand to her and waited; she took it, watching behind her with some trepidation as the forest disappeared from sight. Slowly they walked away along the shining path.

--We have much to talk of, Harry sent to him, as they moved along the path that showed its exit dimly, far ahead. He remembered ceremony and spoke again. ...But first... He stopped and took the jug from Mira's hand and opened it, holding it high, saying with bowed head and with a great somber feeling of respect that was joined by Oldman.

--Ed ga ri, we greet you. Edgar looked into his eyes, from the hidden recesses of his helmet, as Harry drank. His form seemed to shiver, as if cold had suddenly penetrated the glassine armor he wore. Unsealing and removing his helmet revealed hair as white and long as Margay's; his flowing beard appeared snow glistened with frosty strands of energy. He sheathed the sword, still carried in his right hand, in a scabbard hanging from his back and dropped the helm, taking the jug from Harry's proffered hands. Mira bent, retrieving the helmet from the path, and looked up to Edgar as she rose beside him.

Looking deep into the jug with roiling emotion evident on his aged face, he raised the jug high; light glimmered from the movement of the armor that was like a gesture of triumph.

--Har ri na, Oldman, I greet you. He drank. His nostrils expanded with the scent. A sound of enjoyment escaped him as he swallowed. He turned to Mira and repeated the ceremony of obeisance to her, then taking his helm from her and offering the jug. Her hands moved over his glove in a touch that was near a caress.

--Ed ga ri, I greet you, she said simply, staring into the emerald eyes and drank deeply.

Edgar turned and began to walk again toward the entrance below. Mira ran behind with Edgars helmet and the wine.

--It has been too long since I have had the pleasure to observe the ceremony. Tell me of my people; are they well? He reached to the jug in Mira's hand and drank, relishing both drink and word as Mira told of the Shining People.

***

The Great Hall resembled an armed encampment now. Temporary living quarters were raised about the map table as they slept in shifts awaiting news of the missing Harry, Oldman, and Mira. Sitting together at the table, Daniel and Gerry discussed the situation as sleepy eyed Fay drowsed around them or left to begin shifts in town while the illusion of a normal business day continued, regardless of the unusual happenings.

Donna lay curled in Gerry's arms and lap, sleeping and plastic in them, as he moved her with only small sounds of disturbance escaping from her. Wayne was asleep on a shoddily raised bed where he had collapsed, finally, in the early morning hours; his post was taken by a impressed Fay in armor that ventured too close to the exhausted senses of the sleepy councilor.

--Ideas, asked Daniel. ...Jokes? ...Dirty limericks? He said in frustrated fatigue. Gerry shrugged, then pressed his lips to Donna's brow as she mumbled in disturbance. He looked around at all the others who waited and to the stagnant map table that had not had an update in eighteen hours.

--Well, he said ...as an exercise, it has been a success. Reaction times were minimal. There will be events in the future where this room will see the same situation. We need to get her... He gestured with his head to where Sandra slept with Margay in a tangle of limbs and wings. ...moving again. It's not like her not to be at the point of operations.

--Suggestions, Daniel asked, with a hopeful look on his face. Gerry stood and placed Donna's sleeping form in his arms. She made small sounds and wrapped an arm around Daniels neck and thrust a hand into his red gold beard. Daniel held his child to his chest, stroking her hair absently.

Gerry lowered the long used map; he brought the second up, looking down at the careful campaign in planning.

--Instead of waiting for Harry to return, we should plan for his return and move swiftly. He was silent for a time as he studied the table. Recall Hawk, change out his team and get him back to his workshop. Pull Badger inside Harry's property lines. Recall Snake; he's been there too long, even here. Send Sandra home to Maddie; she's alone there except for the animals. She'll be awake soon. Send Donna too. Give Sandra a cover story that Harry and I went somewhere for pressing business.

--Well that's the truth. Daniel said, chuckling deep in his pondering thoughts. ...It appears this business is very pressing indeed.

***

They examined the small personal rooms, at the end of the shining path, ruined from the effects of time and disuse. Edgar's bower there was comfortable, for a bachelors abode; but, it was not the spacious halls and corridors of the dwellings that opened under Backwater, not by a far sight. There was a neat little bedroom and a bath containing a rushing brook that flowed swiftly over a low bank in a small torrent. His only luxury was a five meter square pool of warm water, where he could soak or swim as a large green gar.

Edgar led them through rooms of shadowed shapes, toward an opening above that cast a sunlit carpet across the worn path in the floor showing ages of travel. He climbed upward over the crooked stairs to the light.

Harry followed him up the winding wrecked staircase to the top of the structure, emerging to find that its slopes very nearly covered the entire small island; it was alone in a vast sea with no land in sight. The cloudless sky was a bright blue under the brilliant force of the sun.

--Welcome to the Endless Sea. There was nothing here, save shallow water, when the Shining People found it. Edgar sat in the warm sun with Harry and Oldman. Mira flew over the rocks, high above the oceans lapping waves, enjoying the unfettered access to the bright sun burning in the sky. Sparks danced in her aura as she charged in the light.

Huge smiles wrinkled Edgar's green eyes, gleaming from his teeth in the bright mid-morning sun, as he looked at Harry or Mira. Harry was enjoying the sun and let Oldman begin the questioning.

--How long have you been here? Oldman asked, peering into his mind.

--I have protected the entrance to the temple and the path to the Endless Sea for some two and a half thousands of your years. He answered, smiling at his visitors.

--Alone, asked Oldman? Silence was the only answer for a moment. Then, Edgar said in a serious thought.

--What are you fishing for Oldman? Do you see any others here?

--Getting you to talk is like pulling the wings off of a fairy. Edgar roared with appreciation.

--Yes, Yes, They are hard to grasp. He began to drink from the jug again, then, thinking of his manners, held it out to Harry, who shook his head in negation. He smiled as Edgar found the bottom of the jug, frowning, and laying it aside.

Harry looked to the top of the island where Mira lay, settled, in the grass chewing a stalk of it. She was admiring her new born body and stealing glances at Edgar when she caught Harry looking at her. He held her eye and half turned away from Edgar, holding a finger to his hidden lips and then to his forehead.

She looked puzzled then; her eyes widened as she realized Harry's silent instruction to reveal nothing, and turned away facing the sun and fanning her light lavender wings slowly. She seemed to flush lightly as a slight crackling charge ran over them; she coyly looked to Edgar and back to Harry. He smiled and turned his eyes to Edgar and then back to her. Her brow wrinkled slightly. Harry turned his face to the sun again and moved his lips as if talking then looked at Edgar again. Her eyes widened as she understood. She smiled and stretched her lithe new body and went to Edgar in seemingly random steps to let her fingers play in the bright green aura of his wings as if engrossed in the play of their energy. Her hands, 'accidentally,' touched him lightly as she did and often. Harry nodded in the sun, smiling slightly, and turned away.

--Tell me, Ed ga ri, how did this place come to be? The touch starved Edgar moved his wings lightly as she played in them and began to speak. He looked to the empty jug of wine as he did, and thirsted for more.

--The land above the shining path that leads here was once a chain of islands in a warm inland sea; I was told so long ago. Mira sat on the grass at his feet looking into his eyes raptly as he began his story.

--At last, said Oldman privately.

--Shhh. Harry got comfortable and listened as Edgars story unfolded.

--Our people came to these islands in a shining ship from the north. He pointed into the sky. Twenty and four mated couples arrived to find a new home for the Shining People.

--It is said that they were refugees, fleeing from some great cosmic event or disaster; and as far as they knew, they were the last of their race. Mira lay on the ground before him; her head rested in the palm of her hand as he continued.

--They built the great wrecked temple on the far side of the shining path out of the living coral of the island itself. We had knowledge of the shining paths then and we followed them here where there was nothing but ocean. He gestured about the island. They seeded this Endless Sea with the living coral from the lands above, creating this island where there was none before. Many, many, long times passed; they were safe; they played in the ocean and ate the good things there; but then the earth changed and moved about. The islands above began to sink slowly.

--The Elders began to hastily farm the sun, storing its power in the silver ship that had been neglected since their arrival and were fortunate to escape with it before it was lost to all. Casting about the quickening earth, they searched for the green of life amid churning seas and fire torn land. They traveled far across the planet and at last found sanctuary on cold living islands to the East.

The twenty and four mated couples scattered across the land and prospered. Great lakes of sweet water were built and at last they were able to spawn again and increase the race. The ship was kept charged as best they were able in the dim sunlight there; the Elders feared losing it as they had so nearly done before. They lived well and happily until the Formorians arrived with humans. It was once said that they pursued us there. I know not.

--The Black Ones! Mira said breathlessly sitting up at his feet and leaning forward in interest.

--Yes, he agreed, pausing to gather his hatred like a storm building on the horizon. ...They are truly monsters, evil vicious beings; they plan long into the future and use humans as easily manipulated chattel to further their secreted goals; they hide their true nature from men. Hatred burned in him, feeding the flames of his soul fire. His thoughts lingered long on Harry with accusing speculation. He sank into silence, drawing inward on himself, quiet and pensive. Mira clasped her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them peering up at the silent Fay.

--What happened then Ed ga ri? Did the Black Ones fall on them? He shook his head and looked at her.

--No, they are sly, he whispered in their thoughts ...so very sly. The pain of remembrance clawed his eyes then he continued. ...They pretended friendship and became close to the people, trading gold, that their servant humans dug from the land, for the sweet wine that we make; and then later, they acquired many of the old weapons that were brought with us in the same way.

--They became surly as they increased their power over the people. Wofay were demanded in mating, supposedly to try and join them in harmony. Many of them went in service for the people and were used and made to tell the secrets of healing so that the Formorians were able to survive many grievous wounds that were sustained in the increasing conflicts with our people, who were able to heal all injuries save decapitation.

--Then men discovered the deadly cold iron that burns our flesh like fire. The Formorians found that it ended our ability to heal and create illusions when our aura organ was pierced with it. He leaned over her, gently rubbing over the hollow between her shoulder blades where the filaments of energy sprouted from her back in lavender shining threads.




Chosen Mate Ch. 09



--Here, He said. She smiled at his touch and soft words as his hand produced bright snapping crackles.

--Tell me what happened then Ed ga ri? She said, wide violet eyes looking into his. He frowned and sat back, looking far over the waters to the East and the distant past.

--We began to fight back with the old weapons; the lances and swords of power; they burned wide swaths of destruction and blasted great holes in the earth. We were safe for a time as the Black Ones withdrew. We should have pursued them and ended their menace for all time as well as their twisted lives. The Formorians gathered their human dogs and horded weapons, that we had foolishly let slip from our grasp, waiting for the opportunity of a decisive confrontation.

--A battle began raging as they fell among our people in surprise. It ended many at first as we paid for not watching them. The people rallied; but were slowly driven back toward the sea as we gave way before them. For three days thunder, lightning, and destruction fell about the land in terrible force. The flare of lesser Fay, mature enough to transform into thrice quickened, were like flashes of lightning in the thunder storm of war; they joined the Elders and first born in defense of the people. He was silent for a time as the scenes of carnage and destruction flickered in his mind with ghastly effects. Mira sat quietly at his feet. Her thoughts shrank away from the horrific memories.

--My father called me to him late on the third day. I was a mere stripling, no older than you. He said, cupping Mira's face in his hand, and continued.

--He gave me this armor and sword, and then paced here his seal of service on the battlefield, as the onslaught the Formorians had planned for so long neared its moment of culmination. The blasts of power and the iron weapons cut us down like grain before them. There was no hope for victory; he thought only of the survival of the race.

--I was charged with the task of gathering the fry and newly thrice quickened and flee before the horde to the ship and escape to our sunken temple with them and one old Fay from our original arrival on this planet. He was badly damaged by a slash of the cold iron through his aura organ and unable to heal the many wounds sustained in battle; but he knew how to move the ship. He knew the way to the temple. So, we filled it with the lesser Fay and the remainder of the thrice quickened who survived the flight across the field of battle and sailed away to the west.

Edgar ran his hand over Mira's head of pale red hair; his eyes were no longer haunted by the remembered images; but filled with bittersweet satisfaction that he had saved some out of many.

--We found that the temple had returned to the surface of the sea by then, although much damaged and enhanced by the untended coral which had grown wildly in the long times that separated it from us. The old Fay feared pursuit by the Black Ones; so, we stripped the ships of its technology as best as we were able; the few pages of the Book of Dreams that remained to us were stored with them in the chambers of the temple.

--He taught the thrice quickened stubbornly, trying to convey as much knowledge as possible, and hoped they would remember his words as they matured and thought back on them. He still feared pursuit and discovery of the fragile remains of our people; as his years dwindled, he charged me with the service of protecting the meager store of knowledge stored here until our people could learn to use it again.

--As his last days neared, he flew the ship high above with the remaining charges of energy. He let it fall to earth when it ran out in a great blazing comet of fire. I thought I would die as it fell.

--The thrice quickened moved around the countryside, followed by the lesser Fay, while I remained in my duty. At last only one remained; and she was intent to follow and care for them. I remember my sister's farewell fading in the distance and vanishing. She vowed to return but I never saw her or them again until now. He said looking adoringly at Mira.

--What was your sisters name Ed ga ri?

--Mar gay na. He said with a sad thought at her loss. Then brought his presence swiftly to bear on Mira and Harry in astonishment.

--You know where she is?

***

The council were eating a light lunch around the map table. Much progress had been made in their plans of expansion to the west while waiting anxiously for information from the deserted hill top.

A large hanger area was being created in the Fay domain below the field behind the shop. Leonard was setting up production of the LTA craft leading model in the long line of variations that were being considered.

Additional covers were being generated in addition to the charade covers; the long standing ones. They established the identities that empowered them to move under the surface of human awareness, much as they moved under the fabric of human reality. Older Fay never had conspicuously long public lives. Wayne stopped eating with a start.

--Guardian is reporting, on station. He said excitedly and changed maps. ...She sends again, "momentous steps" and asks for Mother to come to target area with an escort of her choosing. There is one additional thing. Guardian spoke with the thoughts of the Thrice Quickened. Wayne studied the quiet, sleep worn, faces awakening around him. Daniels eyebrows knitt, watching Margay closely.

--Did she give any indication why? Margay softly wondered. Wayne looked at the recon team coordinator who radiated a mental no. He took a deep cleansing breath and said in a low questioning thought.

--Should I ask, Mar gay na? He bent again as a thought came to him and he spoke again. ...Guardian requests instruction, Sword reports, standing by. All call signs are reporting standing by. The Fay in the Great Hall moved as if in preparation.

--Of course they're standing by! Daniel bellowed in exasperation. ...We've been waiting for twenty four hours. He gestured to the imaginary sun high above him and then to the milling mass of Faymanity around them. Everybody wants a piece of this pie! And so do I, he said in frustrated thought. Way na ne, would you escort Ma gay na to the target area?

--Yes Sire, I would! He replied, standing abruptly in a posture of attention and readiness. Daniel looked at the council, and then to the room; his sweeping regard encompassed them all.

--Anyone else, he asked? The room moved in answer; all drew straight and erect. He looked back at Margay; she turned her eyes to him.

--Daniel, we cannot both go, she began.

--We are in the bosom of our people, he thought reasonably to her. Wayne was still standing upright as he reported.

--Dreamer request instructions. Dreamer two sends, I am going home now. Dreamer two has transferred flag. I need another call sign. The Green Warrior has returned. He faltered off, waiting for instruction.

-- Send to Dreamer, proceeding to target, stand by. Daniel said with force. He called out to the multitude of expectant Fay.

--Gather! Daniel yelled into their thoughts. ...All those not on duty will follow. Gather, Shining People; follow me. He took Margay's hand and drew her away with him. He looked back at Wayne, who was crestfallen; he was on duty. Daniel smiled and crooked a finger to him.

***

--Edgar, come here. There is something you must see; Harry sent to the Fay in the bubbled door as he looked downward through the trees.

--My service, He began

--It is done. Harry answered. ...You have protected your charge well; you have kept it safe until the Shining Peoples return. Look and see; they come.

Edgar left the bubbled door of his long used sentry post, his feet standing on the soil above the original temple for the first time in eons. He looked to where Harry was watching the shining lights flicker and flash among the deep woods that covered the area; they were advancing in a flood of light.

Harry's eyes misted as he watched as Edgar's tears fall, glistening among the glinting threads of his beard; they fell in mental and physical drops on the soul fire within him, hissing and spitting among the already reduced flames that slowly became embers; then there was a deluge that reminded Harry of falling rain. He stood by the shining green man and Mira as the people surrounded them. There was thunder in the air and at last the long awaited drops began to descend on the parched land.

***

Harry spotted Sandra's red and gold aura as she moved up the hill among the people at almost the same time as Oldman's complaining thoughts began to rattle in his head with non-stop bitching.

--I just got home and now you drag me back up this hill again. Everything is fine up there. You're hungry, Harry's hungry, and when you two get hungry, I do too. Harry sent threats of Jack Daniels cures to his peevish, whining, thought and he subsided into a grumbling sullen presence awaiting developments.

Sandra rushed into his arms, unsealing his helmet and casting it to the ground and covered his face with kisses. It felt as if fresh air flowed over his skin; becoming a stronger breeze as he sought her mouth.

--My Lord, I was worried for you. She said with rushing thought. She became aware of Edgar turning around, trying to see all the Shining People gathered about him. He was blinded by his tears but saw their thoughts well. She examined him. Steaming wisps of vapor from tears flowed from him as he tried to assimilate the surrounding press of Fay.

--Your uncle has returned to the people. Here comes your mother to greet her long lost sibling.

--Who has wine? Sandra called to the people. The call for wine went out. Harry saw Gerry's blue globe rushing toward then with Donna's pink glow fast by him and smiled.

--If there if wine it comes with Gerry. He noticed Daniels grin as he passed by his mate and her brother, then met Harry's eyes and Sandra's thought as he moved to the entrance to the path, but not down it. Fay disappeared around him into the fabric of the hill itself.

--Come when it is time. You will know. Daniel smiled, turning away to the excited chatter of activity below the ground. Harry was rocked as Wayne slammed against him in a engulfing, backslapping hug; he pulled back, looking into Harry's tired eyes with glee, then rushed to Daniel's side.

--He is pleased, Sandra thought at Harry. ...This is a rare event, the gathering of so many Fay in the open, far from sweet water. You have given the Shining People three great gifts, Harry, my lost Uncle, the Temple, and the Endless Sea. Each one, by itself, is priceless; but I think Mother would have been happy with just the return of Edgar.

***

Margay slowed to a faltering halt as their thoughts beheld each other. Her eyes were wet; the bright white aura of her wings twinkled with relief.

--Brother, I searched for you but the land changed much while I nurtured my charges. She laid her hand on his wet face. ...You were lost in the wild backwoods of the changing land as it moved up from the earths grasp. He laid his own hand over hers, looking into his sisters eyes that were unchanged by the long years that had separated them.

--You had your duty, Mar gay na, and I had mine. It appears we have both been successful. He looked about at the throng of Shining People as they milled about them or disappeared into the depths of the shining path that led to the island in the Endless Sea. He looked to where Daniel stood by the bubbled door way, talking to Wayne and other members of the council that were there. ...You are mated. He said with simple declaration, looking at the bright white cloak on Daniels shoulders. His sadness rippled the waters of his joyful thoughts; its pool calmed again when she spoke.

--You will find your mate now that we have returned to you. Do you see any that match your own in the people? His misted gaze moved over the colored sea of Fay and rested on Mira for a moment. He turned back to Margay, looking into her golden eyes and gave a mental shrug.

--Perhaps Sister, I know not yet; but I will tell you when it ignites the spark in me. His forehead wrinkled as his thoughts fell on other questions.

Margay caught his thought and held it tight in the grasp of her mind and answered it with a deadly seriousness that compelled him to let the distraction of the many milling around them be ignored.

--Yes, there is still danger. She paused and tightened her grasp on his thoughts as they filled with wrath. He looked at her with surprise; she had grown strong during her long absence.

--After I followed the young northward, we lived long in peace with the savage humans abiding in the fertile fields, the wild woods, and the many sweet waters of this land. Dan na el saw the spark in me that matched his and we were mated and spread our spawn down the sweet waters. Those were good times brother.

--We gathered in the treetops at our leisure then, drawing the energy of the great glowing globe in the sky; its bounty was as tasty as prey devoured, and as sweet as the river lobster found in the middle world by those that could remember the old teachings. His stomach groaned as she spoke. She smiled, and loosened her grip, calling. ...Wine, wine for our brother! Gerry came near with Donna and handed a jug to Edgar who nodded thanks and gave obeisance to his sister. He began to drink, then stopped with surprise.

--This is mating wine! He said with a look of amazement.

--Yes said Margay; she gestured to Harry and Sandra. ...Drink to your nieces mating. He looked at them. The black thought of 'traitor' was held tight in his mind. Margay gazed deep into his eyes, searching as he hid the thought.

--The human, he said, but drank to them with ceremony.

--He is greatly loved by the people and he has lifted your long internment of duty. Where was I? She gave a mental wave of dismissal to Gerry and Donna and they withdrew.

--River lobster, said Edgar wistfully, sipping from the jug again. Margay laughed, lifting his spirits, and continued her brief.

--So, we lived there among the humans with no fear of their stone weapons as the many, many, years passed. Then men came from the south with the cold iron of weapons in their hands and covering their bodies. We were surprised; we had lived in security for so long that there was no fear in the younger ones. That changed with the favorite tactic of the iron covered men; they called us daemons and thrust their cold iron weapons through the chests of those who looked at them in curiosity. We fled before them and the slaughter seen in their thoughts of their journey. One of Daniels brothers died before them, covering the flight of the younger ones with the poor weapons of the native human that also fell under the onslaught. We raised a stone there to his memory and interred all that had fallen with him. They were the first to die here but not the last.

--We settled as near as possible to the lost location of the temple and burrowed deep, looking out of the entrances into this world, and kept our thoughts questing for any others that would arrive now that men from the old land we had escaped from found our new refuge. Eventually, they came from over the mountains and up the great rivers and streams that abounded here. We slowly crept out of our hidden shelters as they moved over the land and began constructing our own settlement that passed unknown among all that sprang up in that time of man's expansion over this land. Always hidden, but watching and copying their actions, we prospered.

--Then, the first of the Black Ones came sniffing about as they followed the long dead trail of our close escape from the thundering devastation with which they had sought to destroy us so long ago. We fell on them when possible, if they were found far from any other and alone. We feared after a time that we could be located by the disappearance of the Formorians if they had been dispatched to assigned lands where their disappearance could lead back to the areas where we resided; we ceased the program of eradication and only observed them as they passed through our lands. It is thought that that was a very wise decision for many came singly as if 'bait' cast in the waters in the later years.

The Black Ones murder our children wherever they are found as they wander field, stream, and river. The unwary Fay are soon weeded, while the wary remain ever vigilant so that even as we are weakened; we are strengthened.

--Now, you join with us once more and we gain strength again. Much has changed, yet, much remains the same. This nation is now controlled by the Black Ones, through their unknown slavery of the men who have conquered the wilderness they found here and placed their stamp deep on it. The chemicals they create slowly kill the life here; even their own, as the Black Ones use them to accomplish their own unknowing genocide. She stopped thinking of this. Edgar replied fiercely.

--It is good you have found me at last. We will destroy the Black Bastards that killed our father and put the fear of our wrath in the human dogs that serve them. Margay looked at him strangely, although her thoughts did not show in her mind. She glanced to where several unmated ladies watched the large imposing Fay that was her brother. She searched their minds, smiled briefly, and then sent her thought to one of them.

--E la nor, will you take my brother to your bower and feed him well with all that he has done without for these long years of his service? The lady smiled as she looked at the hero that had aided in their survival. With a flushing face and aura, she lowered her eyes and said.

--Gladly, Mar gay na Regis. I greet you Ed gar ri. Come, there is much that you have missed and I will show it all to you. Taking Edgars hand, she pulled him away down the hill. He drank from the jug as he was led away.

--Is there more wine? He questioned. Her musical laughter sounded over the hill.

--I will introduce you to Silas. There is always drink near his hand.

***

--There goes Edgar. Sandra murmured in Harry's mind; ...it is terrible the way he is burned. Salve for them will be slathered over him soon. I pray that he will be healed, but the damage is deep. Silas will give freely of his anesthetic; perhaps that will help. Harry turned as the flicker of Daniel's passage into the earth, caught his eye. Letting his newfound awareness look beneath the ground, he saw the chamber below as Daniel moved deeper into the hill.

--Lets go see what your Father is up to. He has descended. Harry took Sandra's hand and they passed below ground together.

Deep in the passages of the temple, following Daniel, Harry banged his head once again, on a low stone and was thankful for the helmet; he hunched lower. Oldman laughed, as he floated in comfort within Sandra's mind, behind him. If the debris of ages was removed, there might be enough room to walk upright. He harried the footsteps of Daniel, who in turn, kept close to the thoughts of discovery. Remarks of interest came from the lesser Fay that moved around them as they searched among the tumbled stones of the temples interior. Daniels impatience showed in his thoughts as he ejected words from them in his frustration.

--This will be archeology instead of recovery; then they pulled the first glassine artifact from the soil that fell cleanly from it. Wayne took the object, grinning in pleasure, and brought it to the Lord of Sand.

--What's that? Harry asked as he drew closer to study the object that was alien in form. Wayne hurried away to more cries of excitement.

--Knowledge, Har ri na, knowledge. His eyes glinted, their silvered gleams were riveted to it as his hands stroked over its surface. His head was cocked with ears forward, as if listening to something far away.

--They do say that knowledge is power, Oldman said




Chosen Mate Ch. 09



--Yes, Daniel replied absently. Pages of anticipation and pleasure were written on his face. ...The scale tips. Then he turned, calling for assistance.

***

Donna held out her hand to Mira, smiling as the forgotten member of the entry team watched from her position by the entrance. Mira dimpled and sped to her, taking the hand and watching the scene before them.

--You have done well sister. I greet you. There are things that Mother would speak to you about.

--I greet you Don na na. Thank you. I did little but follow the Dreamer as he looked for strange dogs.

--Yes, he found one too. She looked to where Eleanor led him down the hill, attended by lesser Fay. He went back to Fay civilization and, hopefully, sanity. The fabric of his thoughts were twisted from the heat of the soul fire that burned in him for so long.

--The terrible images in his thoughts, Mira began.

--The reason we hide, Donna said. ...The reason we move to enhance our vision over this land before all sight is taken.

--The reason your service is required. Margay said, as she stepped into a three sided circle with them. The reason you will be included in the force that moves to Memphis. She looked at Mira. ...I see much of your sisters in you; impatient to grow up, and always with their nose investigating a scent.

--Thank you, Mother, Margay gave her a penetrating look as Mira waited before her.

--You know what Sandra and Donna do in their service to the people?

--I have some idea from Fathers conversation with Har ri na at the war table. He called them, and you, our ministry of intelligence. He was not mad that you caught him trying to hide Har ri na's task, even though he acted like it. He was trying to protect you.

--Bright child, there is more to it than that, but the basic thought is clear. You will accompany the Dreamer to Memphis and take employment at the business we open there. These new events will delay travel but not long, I think. While you wait you will follow Edgar and observe all that he will say and do. How you perform this task is up to you. I will expect a daily report from you. In what time is left, you will train with Donna and Silas

--I will serve the people well Mother. Shall I go now? Margay gave a wave. She sped away and soon her lavender aura overtook Edgar's procession. Margay turned to Donna again.

--Daughter, make sure Intruder is relaxed after all see the lost Endless Sea returned to the people. I go to find how the land has grown there and bask under the open sky again. Be sure that you visit the island before you return. Margay saw Harry and Sandra emerge from the passages under the wrecked temple and regarded Donna's face in a conniving smile.

--I think I will send the Dreamer to bed. Make sure that they are wed and on their way as soon as possible. It certainly feels good to be out of the house. Donna giggled as Margay descended on Harry.

***

Harry emerged with Sandra and was immediately confronted by Margay. He was cramped and tired from his explorations below. There was much discovered in his short visit under the temple. And, he felt that it was only a small serving of the feast that lay buried there. There were many glinting objects of gold that caused no avarice among the investigators but nonetheless instilled great excitement.

--My Lady, Harry said with a dip of his head to her. I will go now if you are finished with my services; I am very tired.

--Is that all? Margay asked, and placed her glowing hand on him. ...Take this. She touched him lightly. He felt like a holy light entered him as bright energy flowed from her. His fatigue fell away. The bones in his back crackled as he stretched and straightened, articulating his limbs with pleasure; then he smiled and performed obeisance to her saying.

--Lady, I thank you. Her smiling thought reached out, once more, with her hand.

--Here take this as well. Again, energy flowed in him. He grinned as he felt his body stir.

--Mother! Sandra exclaimed ...he will not rest now. Margay smiled and walked away.

--We will leave you now. Her amused thoughts drifted away with the Fay that streamed into the temple and path.

--Mother always did give the nicest gifts. She said, meeting Harry's lust filled eyes.

--Well Lady, it seems as if I am no longer on duty. Shall we away to our Fairy bedroom, or would you swim in the Endless Sea with me first?

--I see it in your thoughts, Love; let's away to our Fairy shower instead. Her eyes showed her thoughts clearly.

--Great idea, Oldman chortled. ...Harry can we chew on some of those plants again?

--No, that was a mistake. I'm not tasting anything again until I see someone else do it.

--Will you let me use your hands?

--Only if I can use everything else. Sandra led them homeward, and away from the celebration of return.

--She needs to eat too for the baby Oldman continued, happy to be away.

--Baby? Harry said



Chosen Mate Ch. 10



Harry's notes: chapter 10. This is a longish chapter; it will tie in some important elements in the final two chapters, so pay attention. Again I lament a Military section in Lit. Thanks to all who have commented, favorited and added me to their author list. Also, thanks to all who participated in the Summer Poetry Contest voting. enjoy.




Daniel Sand watched the wedding party depart the streets of Backwater with shouts, waves, and honking horns; the traditionally decorated vehicle led a covert force away behind the newlywed couple. He glanced to the few humans leaving the impromptu reception hosted in Mildred's. Walking into the empty coffee house, he passed below to the hidden domain of Fay. Dropping the tightly held illusion of the impeccably suited business man, he called to his council.

--Brothers, meet me at the war table. I want Operation Sweet Water running as soon as River Base is operational and secure. Striding the corridors under Backwater, he allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction now that Operation River was running.

***

Harry drifted from one thought to another while Oldman and Sandra used his body to play hold 'em poker at the $5/ $10 table of the Tunica casino. They were on their honeymoon. A working honeymoon Sandra's Father had called it. He could call it what he wanted because he had paid for the rooms and given five thousand dollars as a wedding gift, that was actually seed money. Over the past two days, they had steadily increased that stake, although Sandra did not speak of the accumulated winnings.

They were joined by man as well as Fay now after a quiet ceremony at the courthouse, sans relatives and friends, although all those seemed to attend now.

A long caravan of vehicles, filled with well-wishers, followed them here; they were still celebrating the mating feast, the discovery of their long lost champion who was the eldest of their race, and the temple of treasures, which Edgar had held safe for them. Even now, Harry could see the Fay with his newfound sight. Bright auras were scattered over the visible portion of the casino floor as he looked through the windows separating the poker room from the rest of the casino.

There was no way the slots could be beat by Fay powers; they were bound by the same chances and odds as humans. It didn't stop them from playing though. The flashing lights and chiming sounds held a strange attraction for them. Even the drunken Silas seemed more animated and sober; he sat at a machine attended by one of his waitresses from the bar, aura flashing with his laughter.

Maddie was nearby, steadily playing the quarter slot machine she had claimed for the past two days. It was good being near her, if only through the glass. She conversed animatedly with other grey haired patrons nearby that were pressing buttons and laughing.

Harry reached for his cup of coffee, finding it empty; he put it down in disgust. He was ready for a break from the long hours at the table. Oldman raked in another pot, tossing chips in the pockets of Harry's tweed, worn as a concession to his nuptial duties.

Sandra and Donna appeared at his side, carrying his chips away to the cashier and making a reservation for a 10:00 P.M. game. Harry stood before another hand started; reaching in the pocket of his jacket, he tossed a chip to the dealer, paying no attention to the denomination. Be a player, win big, loose small, and be seen to tip were his instructions. Besides, he had to do something with the chips Oldman kept sticking in his jacket.

He stretched to relieve five hours' worth of inactivity from his limbs. It was hard work to lose enough to seem like a normal player while using Sandra's ability to see the cards in the thoughts of the players. However, such had been his command by his father. The message had been delivered by his new brother in law, his new business partner, his new friend. He left the poker room to find him. Oldman slid from his mind to supervise the chip redemption greedily with Sandra.

Harry found Gerry at the blackjack tables he had haunted from arrival. Why he played there when a fortune awaited at the poker tables, Harry would never understand.

Gerry sat straight backed in a chair at the number five position of the blackjack table, a half empty beer near his hand; he leaned over the table easily, forearms on the padded rails, studying the cards that lay face up before him. He had a nineteen; he would stand. The Fay on his right held with a fifteen, because he knew the dealer also had a fifteen. He knew because he saw the cards in the surface of the dealers mind. The dealer, forced to draw, hit a nine and busted; he paid the winners. Harry walked up behind him.

"Are you hungry yet," Harry asked as he grabbed Gerry's shoulder. Head nodding, Gerry watched the play and re-bet, he made no verbal reply as he studied the new cards dealt to him.

--Hey Harry, Gerry said in his mind. "I could eat," he said aloud, then continued silently. ...We have our basic requirements to open a store in Memphis with that last game you finished. How much longer are you and Sandra going to stay?

--We'll leave in the morning after breakfast and catch up with you there. Harry replied in the same manner, turning and wandering away to a nearby craps table. ...You should have enough time to decide on a location and start looking for a storefront, as long as it will take us to get there. Immediate possession would be nice; then we could get home faster.

--You're such an optimist, Gerry sent at his retreating back. Amused laughter and calls among the players at the table followed him as the game continued.

While Harry began gambling at the craps table, he followed Sandra's, Oldman's, and Donna's progress from the cashier's cage and across the casino floor toward him.

Oldman, feeling Harry's attention, joined him. His ability to move from mind to mind had become fluid now; his presence was just there or not, as he moved between Harry and Sandra. No one else had cared to permit Oldman to occupy their mind, even though, Sandra had proof that he could be forcefully rejected, if the option was needed; everyone, that is, except Harry of course; he was stuck with him.

--Holy shit Harry, you've got a stack going. Oldman gushed excitedly. The original fifty-dollar chips that begun play at the table, was now five fifty. Harry pushed the entire stack to the field. Oldman sputtered; he was obsessed with the science of probability and began muttering numbers in the background of Harry's thoughts.

--What is this? No hello, no goodbye, you just pop back and forth as you please now? Harry bitched at Oldman. Craps came up; Harry doubled.

--HE, HE, HE, Oldman cackled, as he took possession of Harry's hands, and began stuffing chips in his pockets.

--Help yourself you old bastard, Harry thought.

--I will, Oldman replied tartly. ...Community property and all that you know. Sandra's real and mental laughter echoed in his ears and mind, as she moved close to the table and their bickering play. Oldman sputtered again as Harry pushed the remaining stack of chips to the come line, and turned away.

Donna and Maddie arrived with her, laughing happily, arm in arm. Sandra was dressed in a soft brown suede dress that dripped from her body in supple folds. The eye of many of the women nearby appraised it jealously. A matching purse, with sculptured fringe and bone decorations, depended from her shoulder by a waist length cord. Soft brown leather slippers made no sound, as she slipped next to him, taking his arm, then resting her chin on his shoulder and staring up into his face.

"My bride," Harry said, kissing her softly, letting his eyes descend into the depths of her gaze.

--Community property, where's mine, she said during the kiss. A roar followed the rattle of dice, as they flew over the felt and rebounded for a seven. The croupier paid the pass line, Oldman again pulled chips, stuffing them in Sandra's purse to clatter down over the wads of cash that were accumulated there.

--Here 'ya go. Oldman said magnanimously. Harry regained use of his hands once again, pushing the remaining stack to the pass line. Craps, on the first pass, took the bet. Harry turned from the table.

"Can we eat now?" He asked, with a boyish grin that was engaging on his worn face.

"I'm ready." said Maddie, and led the way toward the lobby and the buffet.

"Me too," Gerry echoed, following closely, leaning over her and speaking in her ear as they walked away. Harry's mind slipped into abstract thoughts as he walked behind. Sandra and Oldman shared a headshake and a thought.

--There he goes again. Sandra called it when he stared out of the windows in his mind. Oldman said it made a great poker face. Whatever it was, the people protected its valuable asset fiercely.

Harry let Oldman move his body through the buffet as the group scattered among the serving lines that were full; hungry gambler's filled their grumbling stomachs with food before assaulting the games and devices of luck and chance once more. Harry chewed mechanically. Oldman stuffed food in his mouth until he noticed one of the Shining People that were not from Backwater moving in the room. He drew back to the shared presence of the Fay in the room, examining her with their eyes.

--Hey Harry, look at this; where did she come from?

The Fay waitress had seated them all at a large, round, table. He could see her faintly orange aura dimly through Sandra's eyes, but little else of her form that moved within her tightly controlled illusion of a young blonde haired woman in serving uniform with 'Lori' on her nametag.

Her surprise and delight to meet rarely encountered members of her race was a brave front, marred by fear. Her smiling face as she moved about them masked her real and assumed image. She tried to convey the danger that frequented this area; the slaughter of her siblings as they reached maturity, moving about the environs in unguarded form, was foremost. Her joy at finding others of her race, and in such force, danced around the warning thoughts in glee.

Sandra and Donna's eyes met across the table. Calming thoughts and images flowed from them; they washed over the agitated surface of the girls thoughts, stilling them, until they were reduced to gently disturbed ripples in the pool of her mind. Sandra raised one of the glasses of water, appearing to look into the vessel for a moment, and spoke softly to the girl.

"Lo ri na, we greet you." She sipped from the glass in a manner no different from those around them. Misted feelings of tears showed in shimmered eyes as the dimly remembered form of ceremony swam blindingly in Lorie's mind; she bustled about the table, head bent at her tasks.

"I greet you." She whispered, casting anxious glances of eye and awareness around the room. She stood straight, leaving the table with a bright covering smile. Harry's eyes followed as she moved about the buffet tables; her minuscule nods to the people of their entourage answered the softly spoken words, thoughts, and greetings.

"Should I be jealous?" Sandra asked, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Always," he replied, kissing her with sushi stained lips. She fed at his mouth and from the love within him. Sandra wondered at the ease with which Harry accepted the existence of the Fay. The obvious reason was the realization that his fear of insanity was unfounded. There was much more to his transformation into one of the Shining People, although he didn't really shine, at least not like them; but, he had a glow within that was impossible to ignore. She kissed him harder.

--I guess the honeymoons not over yet, remarked Oldman, drawing his presence close to the intense feeling and emotions of love. Sandra spoke into Harry's mouth.

"Eat my love; you need strength for what is to follow. Do not worry about the orphan; she is safe now. She will be returned to Backwater and examined for any information that may be helpful to the people."

***

It was two in the morning. The casino floor was near empty of Fay and Human as the players slowly melted away in the early hours of Monday morning. There were few left, except for Leonard and his new crew and the force providing security until a location was acquired for the shop and remodeling could begin. The three members of his original crew were busy assembling the first LTA from molds and jigs created before leaving Backwater.

The force chatted easily in voice as well as thought; seemingly at ease, but well aware of the comings and goings of the casino. There was a quick communication on the private net of thought used by security.

--Arrival, black Mercedes S550, vanity plate: Golf, Alpha, Mama, Bravo, Lima, Romeo. It is at the front entrance.

Gerry, Donna, and Maddie, left for Memphis earlier, and were established in one of the elegant small hotels near the center of the city by afternoon. Harry wished he were there too after the call came from the security team.

--Intruder! All call signs; we have a Black One entering the casino. Standing by for instructions, security alerted quickly as the Formorian exited the Mercedes.

--All, except members of the Memphis team, will begin Operation Fade Away. Initiate Chase, Hawk is in command until further notice. Sandra turned her thoughts away to Harry and Oldman.

***

Sandra and Oldman spotted The Formorian immediately as he made his way toward the table. Oldman folded the hand of rag cards quickly, causing Harry to stand, while floating the feeling of full bladder and its pressing need on his mind. Sandra stood from her place at an empty booth in the players' lounge, stretching languorously in her black pantsuit, displaying breasts and buttocks in a calculated eye catching pose that drew lustful and admiring thoughts. Oldman ushered him along to the lavatory, keeping tight control of his thoughts. Sandra kissed him in passing and then moved behind the glass to the slot machine Maddie used while she was here, begining to play in a desultory manner. A small pout on her full lips suggested her desire to be elsewhere.

***

In the safety of the restroom they held a hurried three-sided conversation as they planned a course of action.

--Let's get the hell out of here, Harry blurted in their thoughts; revulsion and desperation spilled from him as the careful enclosing shell of mental camouflage was eased. He wanted nothing more than to get away from the empty black mind of the creature seen in their thoughts.

--NO! Sandra and Oldman's shout sounded together loudly and emphatically in his mind. Harry leaned against the wall over the urinal; he waited for his clenched bladder and thoughts to relax.

--What then? There may be more of them, he said, looking at the wall.

--We must be careful; they read emotions as we read thoughts. If we leave while the table falls our way it may cast some suspicion and curiosity inviting further investigation, Sandra said in analysis.

--And their emotions are unreadable. Oldman thought with irritation of the fat stacks of chips still in play around their table. ...There is still profit to be made, in spite of the danger of you revealing your knowledge. The Fay have had long practice concealing their form and thought. You must learn to cover your own mind. This will not be the last of them we will encounter. He turned to Sandra's studied thoughts.

--We will continue to play, Sandra said with determined defiant thought from her position at Maddie's machine. ...Hawk, perimeter check. Eyes all, say status soonest. She turned her mind back to where their thoughts stared at one another. ...We will continue; would you not beat them at their own game?

--Good idea, if you can get Harry to perform correctly, Oldman replied in sarcastic thoughts of disbelief.

--Play, how can I play with that monster sitting at the table? Detest, disgust, and dread bled from him.

--You have to Harry. He has to see you as a simple businessman enjoying himself during his 'honey moon' with his trophy wife and money stacked before him, although not as stacked as that waitress, Oldman crowed.

--Ooh, lust and greed, what a wonderful cover; I love it, Sandra said. ...We will make you a mental actor. Harry laughed aloud in the empty restroom, zipping his trousers and moving to the sink.

--A mental actor, you two are mental. Okay, fine, try this you mental directors, a smile played in his thoughts. He said jokingly ...What's my motivation? Excitement burst from Oldman's furrowed thoughts.

--Exactly Harry, that's what I'm trying to tell you. Sandra jumped in the conversation excitedly.

--Listen, she said with a piercing thought. ...You hardly ever look at the cards Oldman plays. Concentrate on them; think of my body. The image of the 'nap' they shared after lunch drifted through his mind, forming a picture of Sandra as she lay gap legged on the bed, her smoldering eyes seeming to look at him as her hands moved over her body. He felt the rise of arousal in his thoughts.

--A star is born, Oldman quipped, as Harry adjusted his trousers and returned to the floor of the casino. He walked past rows of machines, drinking a shot as he passed the bar.

--Jack Daniels cures, he said. ...I'll think about our waterfall and no stick outside the archway.

--That will work. I will add some positive reinforcement as we go along. Remember, we want to rob the bank and ride off in a cloud of lust. Her smiling thoughts betrayed her.

Harry groaned at the pun, but the lightening tone of their thought began to relax him.

***

The Formorian watched as the grey bearded, longhaired man returned from the washroom where he had so hurriedly gone. The sense of his urgent need was like a wave of panic as he had moved away with haste. The beautiful, svelte, auburn haired girl, watched by all through the glass while the eccentric looking hairy man was gone, twisted and turned about her chair; she played the slot with a piqued expression at her husband's pre-occupation at the poker table. Her need was clear on her face and emotions. He admired the view of her bent over form, as she had retrieved something from the floor.

She ran to the man as he returned, spreading her body over his, whispering in his ear. There was no mistaking the interest in his face and emotions as his hands moved over her body; but his eye moved to the table, seen over her head, and the accumulation of chips there. He patted her fanny, kissed her, and continued into the room; taking his chair and looking at the cards on the table; his eyes slid over the players.

The player to the left of the Formorian had a sudden burst of excited emotion as the turn card was displayed. A small movement of his lips was the only outward sign of his excitement. The Formorian folded his cards ahead of the excited player and began studying the hairy man. Lust and greed played equally in his emotions, dividing his attention between the pile of chips on the table and where the woman was twisting again behind the glass. She dropped many things. The hairy man's emotions slid away from greed each time she did.

The hand ended, won by the excited man to his left, who smiled as he drew the pile of chips toward him. The hairy man paid for his missed blinds so that he could begin playing immediately. He also threw a chip to the dealer from his pocket without looking. The dealer took the black chip with a nod of thanks.

***

--You are doing good Harry. Oldman told him. ...Now look away from the table for the cocktail waitress. There she is. She gives you a big smile. Sandra fumes.

Harry looked and mimed for a drink. The waitress knew what he wanted. It was all the strange man drank, but he tipped well. She was back before play started; placing the cup of coffee in a holder at his right hand, bending low, she displayed her ample cleavage to him.




Chosen Mate Ch. 10



--Drag your nose through those boobs, Harry, Oldman thought. Harry dutifully dropped his eyes to the offered sight and ogled away with the natural interest of all heterosexual men.

--Now, look at Sandra and see if she spotted that. Oops, busted!

The Formorian laughed to himself as the woman behind the glass stared back at the hairy man in pissed emotion. Her peeved moue increased as the hairy one deposited a chip on the tray.

Play began again as the blinds were laid out and cards dealt. He observed the emotion of the players as they looked at their cards. Nothing, check, no interest, call, something, call, he looked at his hand. Pocket jacks, call. The excited man to his left seemed interested again, call and small raise, nothing, fold, this brought play to the hairy man. There was some interest there, and anticipation. He called, even though the urge to raise filled his emotions. Big blind and little blind called. Then the two before him folded to the raise. The dealer burned and turned the flop.

The cards turned up, ace, ace, and jack. He had flopped a full house. He waited while play returned to him. It came quickly. Fold. Fold. The excited man was still excited. He had a high pair but not a jack. His cold eyes appraised the hairy man, as he fairly glowed with excitement, held close under his solemn face. Could he have aces?

"One thousand" he said pushing chips onto the felt. The excited man rushed to cover the bet.

"Call and raise a Thousand."

The hairy man looked at the excited man as if in deep contemplation but his emotions were dancing within him. At last, he called; reluctantly it seemed to the table, which should be a warning to them all. Big blind called, with a look of uncertainty and hope in his emotions that was pathetic in its hopeful quest.

He looked to the excited man and then to the hairy one. He would see another card.

"Call." The dealer burned another card then turned a king. The excited man's emotions were like fire in him as he waited for play to return to him. He was sure he was beat. Quiet confidence dominated the emotions within the hairy man.

"Check" The Formorian said confident that he was beat two ways now. The excited man seemed disappointed, turned to his remaining opponents, and said nastily.

"Five thousand" and began pushing stacks of chips. The woman was at the glass now as the chips piled up in the center of the table. She was applying lipstick to her full mouth; she watched the hairy man with the knowledge that she would soon be able to leave the uncomfortable stools of the casino and crawl in bed no matter the outcome at the table.

"Call and raise five thousand" The hairy man said pushing the chips out for the dealer to check

"Fold" Big blind said mucking his cards.

"Fold" He said also mucking his cards. His full house joined the discards. The excited man rushed his play immediately.

"All in," he said with an air of impending triumph. Fool, the Formorian said to himself as a smile played openly on the face of the hairy man.

"Call" he said and watched the excited man turn the pocket kings in his hand up confidently. The expression of victory died on his face as the hairy man turned his aces.

The excited man was excited no more. He was left with about a thousand dollars after the last card turned as a courtesy even though there was none that would help him.

"Color me up then I have to go to bed." The hairy man said to the dealer, turning as the woman walked up to him.

--Hawk, do you have him? Sandra called as she walked away with Harry.

--Yes San dra na. We see the Black One. What would you have us do? Leonard asked, watching him from the rows of slots.

--Follow him. Do not be seen. Find out where he goes. Report to Donna when you find his lair.

--It will be done, Leonard said to her, and then spread his team around the Formorian and waited.

***

The Formorian watched the hairy man walk away. He drank coffee from his cup while the woman carried the stacks of trays filled with chips. His free hand played about her ass as he followed her to the cashier. Lucky man, he said to himself, and turned to the now not so excited man. He looked at the chips left around the table and decided that there was plenty left for him.

"Bad beat," he said, smiling. "Glad I folded."

***

--This is the most boring road you've ever been on, Oldman said, and there have been plenty.

--Yeah, I have haven't I. Harry thought of all the wonderfully eventless miles he could rack up behind the wheel of Sandra's Caddy Cat.

--But you know, there is one thing that is good about this this kind boring.

--Yeah, It's ours. We rule in the woods, he said with a glance in the mirror. ...Don't start talking about environment again either. I haven't tripped over a path in a while. Tell me, what are the odds of labeling all those junctions?

Oldman became quiet and still in his mind calculating. He was soundless for a very long time as Harry drove toward the state line and the nearby city, bisected by the mighty river that again bisected the country; then, all its tributaries again sliced the rest into little pieces of pie, Daniel had said. He returned his attention to Oldman's unthinking examination into the permutations of probability.

--Are you still hitting those two numbers again? Oldman's continued silence was the only answer. Harry leaned back in the solitary unending quiet. Settling deep in the cushioned comfort, he assumed a relaxed mile eating posture. Sandra whispered to him.

--We need to ask him that question more often. A smile played at her lips; she watched the countryside disappear behind them as they continued northward. She looked at him, feeling his thoughts on her.

--What? She asked searching his mind gently; leaning on the armrest, she took his hand in hers. The elfin qualities of her face looked up at him.

--Are you hungry? You're eating for three now. He said, implicating Oldman's preoccupation with the spark of life within her. She laughed; the musical sound never ceased to please him.

--Believe me; I'm not hungry. He ran me through the buffet twice before I could get away to pack. He says he's doing a study of Fay physiology. He monitors everything in my body but there is nothing to compare it with.

Harry placed his hand on her belly over the life there, the impossible life that the three of them had quickened by the river. The same night that they created their spawn of Halfling children; and, the same morning the twined trio sent the emotional blast of joined energy to the tiny minds that spun over the song blessed pool of their birth. Harry became as unspeaking as Oldman. She leaned against his shoulder and sighed, as the outskirts of Memphis passed by in her blurred vision.

***

Gerry met with a gray-haired old gentleman with a tranquil demeanor that looked to have missed few pleasures in his life. He reminded Gerry of the genteel planters from a forgotten age. He studied the thoughts of the portly man, dressed in a white suit.

The quiet luxury of the tasteful lobby where they concluded their negotiations had always been a favorite of his; he was pleased to meet the businessperson there. He admitted curiosity as to why the big man was leasing the two buildings; there was not much there to speak of. They met at the location. When told he could have his choice of the two, that stood side by side at the downtown intersection, he had taken both after a short call.

"This is a beautiful city," Gerry said to him, signing the paperwork and agreements.

"Yes, it is a fine city," the gentleman said, looking around the lobby in a self-indulgent manner. "I've always loved this old hotel. I've seen many an occasion here. In fact, my granddaughter has her sixteenth birthday party here next week. I may stay the night then." Gerry looked at the man appraising him closely.

"A soirée, that sounds like so much fun. He watched the twinkling eyes as he replied with animation.

"Oh yes, we do have a marvelous time when we are here." Gerry reached in his pocket and produced a card, which he signed with a flourish and handed to the man.

"Here, give this to your granddaughter for her 16th with our complements and felicitations.

"How very kind of you," he said, peering at the card he held. "The Fringe, sounds like a rock and roll band. What is it?" He looked intently at Gerry, who answered.

"That is the buildings you just leased us. I don't know if it will be open by next week; but I have all our product lines with us. That card is good for any of our accessories she chooses.

"Accessories you say," he looked at the card again. "Fine hand crafted leather goods," he read.

"Yes and here come my models," he said, rising from the comfortable armchair with Mr. Abernathy. Maddie and Donna stepped down into the sunken sitting room of the lobby.

"They are stunning," he remarked, as they walked up to the two men. He gave a little half bow as they halted by the men, looking expectantly to the gray haired gentleman as Gerry introduced them.

"Mr. Abernathy may I present Mrs. Maddie Hill, and my wife Donna, ladies, Mr. Abernathy. Mr. Abernathy has just leased us the building you picked out sweetheart." Donna made human woman noises of interest.

"Your servant, ladies, and by all means, please call me Abraham." His eyes sparkled as Maddie held out her hand that he took in a brief clasp of greeting and a short bow. He admired the pale suede shawl with delicate lines of fringe running over it on Maddie's shoulders. "That is an unusual color."

"We only use natural dyes in our line. It takes longer to produce, but we feel that the result is worth the effort. Harry's always looking for new colors." Maddie said informatively. "He's been experimenting with blackberries and elderberries for the longest time now; but he hasn't been happy with the result, although, he has made some nice wine. Abraham raised from his examination of Donna's knee length dress.

"Experimentation is applaudable," he espoused with an amused, informed smile gracing his sparkling eyes as he returned his face to hers. "...And wine is always welcome."

***

Harry walked across the marble floor to the desk while Sandra made for the group in the sitting room. He watched her animated conversation with Mr. Abernathy. The attending clerk came forward.

"Harry Hill, I believe you have a reservation for me?" Sandra's laughter sounded in musical tones across the lobby. The clerk confirmed the reservation, after a glance at his features.

"Yes, Mr. Hill, You have adjoining rooms with Mr. Faison. Harry took the keys, feeling in his pockets for money and finding none, he gave the man a black chip from them. "Thank you, sir." said the smiling clerk; "your bags will be taken to your room. Front!" he called with a ding of a bell as Harry went to join Gerry.

"Sandra, Take these. I thought I had gotten rid of them all," Harry said emptying his pockets of the chips that were there and searching about finding more. Abraham was calculating the chips in his head and spoke.

"A gambling man, are you Mr. Hill? You must come to one our games, just a few of the local boys that do enjoy a good game of chance."

--Not the way we play it, said Oldman, pulled away from his calculations by the promise of sport.

"I would be honored if you were to include me in one of your games Abraham," Harry replied, ignoring the comment. "Are you hungry?" He asked, turning to Sandra, Donna and Maddie. "Is it too early for tea?"

"It's never too early for tea," Abraham interrupted. "Come ladies; let's see if they will trot the trolley out for us." He took Maddie's arm and led the women toward the dining room with a glance to Gerry.

"We'll meet you there." Gerry said, "After a word to business."

***

--You heard about The Black One that showed at the casino last night? Harry said immediately.

--It is well in hand. Do not worry. Remember, there is much danger here. Your close encounter with the Black One was unexpected, a low probability meeting. You were not prepared. Now please, speak so you can be heard. Gerry spoke aloud. "We have our buildings."

"You're kidding." He said to Gerry, amazed and pleased that they were already in possession.

"We just need our licenses and a quick cosmetic renovation and we are ready to begin business. They are in very first rate shape; Mr. Abernathy takes good care of his buildings. Leonard is already there with his crew and Mira and Lori." I told them to turn the top floors of the buildings into living quarters before beginning on the ground shops. They've unloaded my truck and gone shopping and looking in furniture stores"

"Shops?" Harry asked. Rapid thoughts emanated from Gerry as he told of the revised plan.

***

The activity in the two building was like no renovation that Harry had ever seen. The Fay moved about in a blurring dance. The room resembled a time lapse recording as they worked. He felt Gerry coming across the room, but was unable to turn his attention from the bizarre ballet that moved about him. 'Whop!'

--Come outside Harry. The pressure of his hand turned him through the papered over door and outside; the now empty streets echoed with quiet. ...After we were surprised at Tunica, Daniel decided to increase our initial strength and deepen our security. There is a six-person team spread around us. Can you see them?

Harry looked about while Oldman snickered at his inability to locate the security team. The streets were empty; no one was in sight. Gerry was pleased that he saw no one.

--Sentry, your name please, he asked the empty streets.

--Leo nar di, the Fay answered in their minds. ...Ger ri na, I greet you. Harry still saw no one.

--Another Leonard, Oldman said. ...I have to keep you straight. What armor do you wear?

--Yes Oldman, I'm sorry for the confusion. I wear the brown armor of the groundhog.

--Then that's what I'll call you. Oldman declared.

--Can I continue? Gerry asked Oldman. ...If you are finished, that is. Oldman waved a mental hand of permission. He began again, watching Harry's searching eyes as he did so. ...We will call you Leon, with your permission. Leon will you please say 'boo' for Harry.

"Boo." Harry jumped as the voice sounded very close and behind him. He turned, examining the shadowed doorway that the word had come from, but still saw nothing.

--Now, move for him, if you please. The edge of the door wavered. Harry sent his awareness outward and felt him there. Harry expanded it slowly as he walked into the empty street. Leon had dissolved into the background when he turned. He began to find them around the architecture of the buildings and greeted each as he did so. He quested further around and found all else near empty except for a wreck of a man one ally over, burning with the soul fire of his broken life.

--Make sure he is fed when the kitchen is finished, Harry said. ...And see what you can do to quench the flames in him; it is not too late. He glanced up, continuing his search, and found Mira on the roof above him. He moved with Gerry, back into the building and up the three flights of stairs.

The roof looked the same as any other; its flashings and drains were escorted by the many things that sprouted from them it, as they vented, cooled, or heated the spaces below. He looked to where Mira blended in with the prolific jumble of protrusions.

--Mira, I greet you. I heard you were here; what are you doing? He questioned, curious to her reason.

--I greet you Har ri na. I am filling in until the additional forces arrive. I am waiting for the next strange dog to cross your path too. There is much work for me here.

--Take care you aren't bitten. Oldman said quietly.

--Excuse me; I have communications duty as well. Owl is here with supplies and additional personnel. She turned away. ...Owl, hold for security check please. Street watch, Owl is on station, please say situation.

--Air is clean Guardian. The homeless man is one block over but in no position to view the sky over River Base.

...You may approach Owl. We are standing by.

Harry increased his awareness again and found the first LTA prototype coming down from high above like a bead on a string. It reversed its thrust, slowing above the roof, then rotated level, descending gently to them. It was large and covered both roofs. Fay jumped out, holding the craft down with their clinging weight, as they disembarked and began loading what looked like body bags to re-equalize the trim of the craft.

Harry waved to Edgar, visible in the small window of the cockpit under the body, well back from the hole in the nose. His grin covered his face as Harry took in the craft with his hungry eyes.

--Wait until you get one Dreamer; this bird loves the sky. Harry said nothing as he took in the lines of the craft. The matte finish made it difficult to examine. He was happy for Edgar; he too seemed to fly like a bird after his release from the captive duty of his long services as temple protector. He was remanded to the freedom of family and flight. ...Are you finished with cargo, Guardian? I have two more trips to make tonight.

--Yes Ed gar ri, hold for clearance. Street watch, say skies.

--Clean Air, Guardian.

--Owl you are clear for egress; the air is clean. Edgar laughed merrily and said.

--Release, it floated upward, rotating slowly to vertical as the lateral trim ball moved aft, pointing the nose at the sky. ...I will be back tomorrow night Dreamer. We will drink the night away and then I will examine this city of humans closely. Perhaps I will find things to do here that may amuse me more than wine. Perhaps there is work for me here too.

Edgar talked aloud to the LTA as he left the roof with the bodies of the six gang members destined to become fertilizer in the middle world under Backwater. "Well, Night Hunter, there are a few less humans in the world. If we can't kill them, at least we can haul their dead bodies away."

Harry felt the buffet of air as the LTA accelerated quietly away into the darkness. He was vaguely worried at the thought of Edgar loose on the streets of Memphis. He followed it's progress, as it moved away in the dark night then descended once again near the state park at the extreme southwest corner of Tennessee; it drifted south along the river, skirting civilization then eastward over the forests of north Mississippi.

***

The change in Lori, the terrified young Fay found in Tunica, was dramatic. No longer did she appear to be a buxom blonde. When given her choice of cover identities, she chose a dark haired 30ish woman with a gypsy accent. Her frozen, plastic, smile and the expertly assumed illusion was all the armor she needed against the outside world.

Her mental condition was much improved. After a short visit to Backwater for a debriefing and instruction, it was decided to include her with the Memphis team. Her long unaided survival so near the frequented haunts of the Black Ones, was invaluable.

Harry looked about the third floor as they began what Lori called Operation Rescue. The Fay loved these exercises as a way to keep ready, no matter how ridiculous. He had seen the teams tracking wandering cats and dogs during their bored watchfulness. Armed readiness had been their watch words for a long time. Edgar's telling of the events leading to their present situation as long hunted and harried recipients of the Formorian malignance resulted in increasing their paranoia and preparation two fold.

The third floor over the Fringe was filled with activity. There was a room with sleeping shifts of the off duty security teams. Donna talked while they waited for the operation to commence.

"We are in communication with 'Home' now. There is much to interest Father and the council at the Temple. He says, he has things to show you when you are able to return, but he would not speak of them.




Chosen Mate Ch. 10



Harry moved to another group of screens that showed the streets and alleys surrounding their location.

--Nothing moves around here without our knowledge. What do you say, Oldman? I feel your thoughts.

--I wouldn't want anyone to see this room, Oldman said. She laughed in his senses and replied.

--By the time they find this room there would be great trouble. Oldman chuckled then in delight, replying.

--We could always say it was the paranoia of eccentric man. Donna watched Harry for a moment as he moved around the monitors, watching them as he did from the windows of the café.

--Yes, she said, ...paranoia is expensive for an eccentric man. He should go back to work soon.

--Target is approaching from the south. He is very cautious but he comes. The sentry's thought caused Harry to move to another monitor.

So far the man had been reluctant to speak to any of the disguised Fay that came near. He always moved away, as strangers entered his considerable comfort zone. He was visible in the monitors as he moved down the alley now.

--Orphan you may begin when ready. Harry watched the screen that showed the alley behind. Lori timed her exit from the backdoor of the café perfectly as the long haired and bearded man came near. She seemed startled by the sudden encounter, and made it seem as if he was the one at fault.

"What are you doing there?" She clasped a hand to her breast and dropped the bag of trash that conveniently held choice bits of food like the one that had finally lured his growling stomach the night before.

"Nothing lady, I'm just passing through. I don't want any trouble." He made as if to leave.

"Wait." He turned back at the command in her voice, giving her small nervous glances. "Come closer." His eyes flickered about, looking for danger, as he stepped into the light. "Do you drink?" He blinked at the unexpected question and replied in an irritated voice.

"I am not a drunkard lady, but I do drink." He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, his eyes glancing at the bag.

"Do you have a job?" He was silent, looking at his feet. She felt his pain burn at the unexpected question and was glad that Harry became involved. His stomach groaned and he made as if to move away.

"Are you hungry?" He met her eyes and fixed smile then and she saw many hungers there.

"Yes I am." he said simply.

"Come!" Lori said, walking back into the building. "Close the door behind you. What is your name?"

"Bob," he said, hesitating for a moment at the entrance, then followed and shut the door.

--All call signs, Rescue is enabled. Orphan will co-ordinate. Kitchen is off limits until further notice.

Harry watched the monitor of the kitchen where Bob moved around Lori as she heaped a plate with food. He reminded him of a stray dog, slinking around, careful not to get too close to anyone. Bob followed her to the tables in the front. The shades were drawn and the door locked. No one would disturb them by sight or presence until she was ready.

Lori pressed him down into a chair and left for the kitchen, talking as she walked. He seemed startled by her touch, but sat before the plate willingly and began to eat. She returned with two beers and sat across the table, placing a bottle near him. He looked at it; his hand reached out slowly to its dewed surface, raised it to his mouth and drank. He sighed in appreciation. Placing it back gently on the table, with a quick glance at Lori, he began eating again as her gentle, soothing voice continued.

--Ready for phase two, Lori said as he neared the bottom of the plate. The loud, rapid, clatter of footsteps coming down the stairs startled him. He relaxed when he saw the young woman who ignored him and went to the kitchen, returning with a huge plate of brownies. She sat with them and began eating.

"Hey Lori, who's your friend?" He looked at her from the safety of his down turned face; the plate of brownies drew his eye for a moment, then returned to her as he continued to eat.

"This is Bob. He's going to be working in the kitchen with us." Bob was startled by the news.

"Oh good. I'm making turnover tomorrow. I'll have to be up before dawn to get started.

"You should make the dough now and let it rise. That will give you a head start tomorrow.

"Good Idea, come on Bob; we'll get started if you're finished. Mira said with enthusiasm.

"Don't rush Mira, he hasn't even had a brownie yet.

***

Much later that night, Mira would not let him leave because it was so late when they finished. The eccentric man, that the business belonged to had set the alarms and retreated to his lair on the third floor, 'To peer out the windows no doubt," she said. She showed him a small neat room near the back door with fresh sheets and a blanket; it was beside a bathroom with shower and towels, washcloths, soap, and an abundant supply of toilet paper.

"The room comes with the job. Lori and I share one above. Sleep, Lori will wake us in four hours. You can catch up on your rest after lunch tomorrow, goodnight Bob." She smiled, then left.

He heard her footsteps go to the steps, creaking up them to the floors above. He yawned widely and walked back in the kitchen, looking at the piles of dough rising under their blankets of cloth, and smiled. He showered long under the streams of hot water and toweled dry. He carried his clothes back to the room, locking the door and crawling into the sweet feel of the sheets, falling quickly into sleep.

***

"Bob?" Lori called at the door of the small room. She woke him from the erotic dreams that had rocked him softly in their arms after Mira had released him from his duties as assistant dough maker. The feel of breast and limb still clung in his mind as Lori called again, a little louder and more playfully.

"Robert, it is time to work again. Come out of those sheets or I will have to drag you from them as I did Mira." He sat up, pulling the sheets to cover his waist. A look of embarrassment covered his face as he looked to his clothes, discarded on the straight backed chair on the opposite wall. Lori's head followed his eyes to the clothes, then turned back to him.

"I see you sleep as I do." She smiled, turning away to the door and calling, "Mira!" A yawning Mira stuck her head in the door, looking about sleepily and smiling.

"Good morning Bob," she said to him, then turned irritated eyes to Lori. "Why are you yelling?"

"Bob needs clean clothes for the kitchen. Get some from one of the construction boys. These go in the washer. Get some white painters pants with no paint, a white t-shirt, socks." Her eye fell to the worn shoes on the floor, but she was silent for the moment. Her eyes turned to him again.

"See Gerry if you need money. You will know him when you see him. He looks like a football player." She looked at Mira who still leaned against the door.

"Go, the ravenous horde will descend on us soon." She turned back to the man under the shield of his sheet. "Bob, you have maybe fifteen minutes before Mira returns, maybe more if she begins talking; use them well." One more glance, and she was gone. He struggled into his pants and left for the bathroom; he sat there, thinking for a while behind the locked door. All the glorious rolls of toilet paper kept him company.

Bob, Robert to his friends in his old life, was happy. He was still a broken man; but now, he had new friends, warm food, and welcome companionship. He also had the best thing of all; he had work.

***

"Robert, the turnovers are ready," Mira called to him later that morning. He took the rack of turnovers from the stove and put them to cool; after a bite of his own turnover and a sip of coffee, he began rolling dough again with a smile.

***

The buildings were habitable by the morning of the third day. The paper had been removed from the windows and doors and the glass cleaned. Mira and Lori had taken up residence on the second floor from the first and now had comfortable rooms. The kitchen of the former restaurant was clean and working well. They were feeding Leonard's crew and the security teams that were off duty. Harry leaned back in his chair, looking out the window at the light traffic and drinking coffee.

--Café Fringe, Oldman said to himself as he looked around the dining room.

--Great idea, Gerry said, dropping his toast and scribbling in his pad while looking at the leather items hung around the walls. He made notes on which items were to be removed from those packed in boxes.

A man walked by the glass front of the cafe'; glancing in at the room full of diners, he looked at his watch and made for the entrance. The bell over the door rang as he walked in and sat at a table, put his coat on the chair, and began working on a laptop. Lorie came up to him. The natural actions of those in the room never varied as they continued to eat. Her practiced appearance was relaxed as she waited for instructions concerning him.

"Just coffee," the man said as he continued to work. She looked to Harry then Gerry, who still ate with no visible interest in the man. Harry shrugged; she left for the kitchen. He turned his chair back to the table shared with Gerry, watching the man. He was dressed for business and his mind was intent on a meeting. Gerry glanced up from his plate to Harry, the man, then back to his plate.

Lori walked back to the table with a mug of coffee, a spoon in it, and a small container of sweeteners.

"Thanks." He said, still intent at his work. "What's that wonderful smell?"

"We're making turnovers for lunch, but there may be none left by then." She answered, glancing with a displeasured thought to the guilty looking operations team that devoured them with breakfast. Their actions did not halt with her words, although, many grins covered the delighted disposal of the turnovers.

"Bring me one of those too" Her mind looked to Harry for instructions.

--Go ahead. Harry's smiling thought was shared by all at the impending joke being played out on the man. He ate the pastry that Lori brought with relish while completing his tasks and closing the laptop. He gazed into his mug, empty in spite of Lori's persistent efforts to keep it filled. He looked around; Lori came to him.

"How much do I owe you? He asked, drawing his wallet out and glancing to the watch on his wrist. At last Gerry spoke, pushing away his plate, and turning his attention to the man, with a smile.

"I'm sorry, sir, we can't take your money. We're not open for business yet." The man glanced about in shock at the full tables around him and then up at Lori, who had the same gentle smile that had graced her face from the beginning. The room broke up in laughter at the look on his face.

Gerry introduced himself to the man, explaining the crew, that seemed to be diners, were in fact doing the renovation. The team were housed and fed here, so that opening would be rushed. He began explaining the venture, with punctuating gestures to the hanging items. Jeremy Shelby listened and asked a lot of questions.

Harry left at the ding of the bell, going to the door when warned by security. He met Abraham as he entered. Harry shook his hand as he was introduced to his granddaughter and a friend that seemed to be intrigued by the offered gift. Harry motioned for Mira and called for Sandra silently. Abraham was distracted as he gazed at the clean spaces, so different from the dusty empty building he had leased on Monday. His eyes appraised the room.

"My word, there's Jeremy." He looked to the center, the smiling recipient of tomfoolery sat filled with coffee and pastry at their expense as well as his own; they joked with him, Harry told Abraham of the joke. His eyes filled with entertained delight with the telling.

"Do you want to have some fun Abraham? His face lit with mischief.

"Oh, certainly, Jeremy considers himself quite the joker." His eyes turned roguish. "What do you have in mind?" Harry described his plan as Abraham chuckled with joy. Oldman's thought informed Gerry of the increased scope of the joke.

Abraham escorted the girls upstairs with Mira, and then left while the excited squeals examined the goods there. He came back down the stairs, then opened and closed the door swiftly, causing the bell to ring loudly.

"Here comes another one," Gerry said, giving Jeremy a nudge. "Remember, not a word."

"That's my uncle. He owns some buildings around here." Jeremy answered lowly. Abraham moved into the room, calling to him on recognition.

"Jeremy, what are you doing here?" He moved to the table and sat. The crew were busy at their plates again.

"Uncle Abraham! It's good to see you. I am just having some breakfast before a meeting. Join me." Lori waited at his side, her uniformed smile placed decoratively on her face.

"Tea," said Abraham with an inquisitive look. "What is that delightful smell?" Lori answered sweetly.

"We're baking turnovers for lunch, if there are any left by then." She looked to where the workers were still intent on the depletion or removal of turnovers from lunch's menu.

Jeremy smiled as his uncle talked of friends and family. He thought of the developing joke as it neared its crescendo. Many secretive winks joined the joke with him. Abraham pulled out his wallet. Jeremy grinned, anticipating the end as the final chords struck.

"How much do I owe you?" He asked Lori. She laid a hand on his shoulder; a smile covered her face as she examined Jeremy.

"Nothing Abraham, you can eat here free anytime." Jeremy's expression showed confusion as the expected melody of the prank turned away. All became quiet. Abraham turned back to Jeremy.

"Did Gerry charge you for breakfast?" Jeremy looked at the crowded room; everyone was busy looking elsewhere. He looked to his uncle, so fond of a joke, and knew by his scarcely controlled amusement that he was pranked, and well at that. Then he spoke the words he knew would again amuse them.

"No, they're not open yet." Laughter played over him again. He smiled crookedly and then joined in.

***

Gerry turned his thoughts to Leonard and his crew, still snickering as Jeremy headed for the door.

"Breakfast tomorrow, Jeremy!" One called; they all broke up in laughter as Jeremy waved a hand in the air and made his escape back to the pressures of his job.

--Will there be work today? Gerry thought sternly. They laughed in his mind and Leonard called.

--Yes, Ger ri na. Today we dig! The silent cheers of the Fay accompanied the scraping of chairs as they descended the stairs that led to the basement.

--At Last, Mira called from the kitchen. ...A decent shower. Will you have more coffee now Har ri na? Gerry smiled, looking to Harry as he watched out the window, then glanced down in his cup.

--Is everyone ready for Rescue to continue? All the players in the next act gave their assent.

--And Action! Called Oldman in their thoughts. Cue Lori. Giving a mental headshake of forbearance, she walked into the kitchen.

***

"Robert, take Harry coffee; he will be out by now. Take turnovers too, or he will forget to eat until lunch." He washed his hands and dried them on a towel, peeping out the door of the kitchen at the two men. The long haired and bearded one sat in front of the window, looking at it as if it was a T.V. screen and the activity on the far side was there for his amusement. The other was busy with papers, and must be the one called Gerry. Lori made little hurrying motions with her hands. He left the security of the kitchen, armed with a pot of coffee and a plate of turnovers.

Harry turned at the clatter of the plate on the table and set his mug out to be filled. While Bob poured, Gerry looked up at the hidden eyes that were intent to escape notice and retreat to the kitchen.

"Bob, sit with us awhile. You look like you need a break anyway, Lori! Bring a cup for Bob." He sank reluctantly to a chair. Lori came with the mug. She placed her hand on Bob shoulder while they talked. He seemed to calm like a skittish animal with her touch.

"Thanks for helping us," Gerry began. "Keeping these guys fed is a pain; but they're worth it. Don't take them too serious. Jokes seem to be the oil they run on."

"Robert needs uniforms for the kitchen if we are to get our license." Lori said. "All of us do." Gerry began writing in a note pad.

"Is there anything else?" He looked at Bob, his bright blue eyes holding him. Bob shook his head no.

"He needs money." Bob tried to protest as Gerry pulled bills from his wallet then laid five twenties on the table. "Bob, you will come with Mira and me when we shop this afternoon and carry things for us." Lori informed him and left.

Sandra, Donna, and Maddie came down the stairs laughing. They were followed by Abraham and the girls. Bob looked like he might make his escape, but was stopped by Gerry's hand; he filled Bob's cup and remarked.

"Here come the brains of our venture. Meet our wives." His eyes turned.

Bob looked at the two women moving into the room and undulating past the tables toward them. They were beautiful and expensively dressed. Their clothes were like nothing he had seen before. He got to his feet as they drew near the table.

"Who is this fellow?" A small woman with curly hair and glasses was examining him from her position beside the two women. It had been hard to see anything but them as they glided across the room.

"Ma'am, this is Bob. He has joined the kitchen staff." Harry smiled as Maddie focused her attention on him.

--Here we go, Oldman said to them, as Maddie looked closely at Bob. Harry let his smile spread over his face, as Bob stood there in front of the cannonade of questions that were bearing on the helpless defenses of the man.

"Maddie Hill," she said, extending her hand to him and smiling. "What's your last name? How do you like working here?"

"Robert Raines, Miz Hill. I like the work." Her hand was firm in his; he felt the strength in her bones that lay under the skin. Cracks ran across his fortifications as the woman, who reminded of his own irascible aunt that had raised him, began to engage him in conversation.

--He's toast. Oldman said.

***

He washed dishes after breakfast that morning then made chili with the instruction of Maddie. The old woman had pursued him as he went about his duties. Questions flew from her as she 'helped' him prepare the large pot of chili for lunch. It only held five gallons. He had doubts it would survive the depredations of the men who had eaten breakfast with such gusto.

After lunch had been set to simmer, they left in an old white van, to shop they said; he had no idea it would take so long. They drove to a department store where Lori picked out clothes for him. He stood as they held apparel upon him, talking as if he weren't there. He was shushed when he tried to speak and reduced to pushing the cart behind them as they explored every aisle in the store. The grocery was next and mercifully shorter.

They parked by the back door of the cafe'. Bob brought the food items in first, filling the walk in cooler and putting the non-perishable items in the large pantry adjoining the kitchen. He piled the remainder of the purchases on a table, and then carried a large basket of the workers clean clothes from the dryer to the second floor apartment, shared by the women. He heard the shower running and Mira singing. He left the basket on the floor and returned below, taking his bags to his room; he placed them on the chair that was the only furniture beside the bed. He sat on the bed and looked at the first new clothes owned in a year. Lori called from the kitchen with more instructions.

He was sent again with the women's purchases to the top floor. He found Mira, nude, folding clothes past the open door to the living room. He stood for a moment in shock and indecision. Mira pointed to a door, with no move to hide. Yawning widely, she said.




Chosen Mate Ch. 11



Harry's notes: Nearing the end of this story friends. Thanks to all who have commented here and in private pm's and feedback. This is the shortest chapter in the book as the story begins to turn once more to darker conflicts that will come in chapter 12. As always in my stories there is romance, heartbreak, and hope somewhere in the lines. Enjoy

*

It was early when Oldman began his bitching. Harry opened one eye and explored his surroundings.

"What?" He asked in confusion. He could not remember leaving the window last night.

--Customers are downstairs, buddy. It's time to rise and shine; and just so you know, you're talking to yourself again.

Harry sighed, swinging his legs to the floor and dressing slowly. He stumbled out of his door and past the banks of monitors that were mostly for show now. Six Fay, sleeping wrapped in their wings, were the only other inhabitants of the third floor. He called the cafe' while he emptied his bladder.

--Lori, is there any chance of getting a cup of coffee up here? Her amused thought returned.

--I live to serve the people and customers, Har ri na. I will send Mira. Is there anything else?

--Are you busy down there? He asked, as he washed face and hands.

--I am feeding the hungry horde; people continue to walk in; things are normal here. She sent the image of fluttering, dismissive fingers and returned to her duties.

--My love, where are you? I missed you when I woke up, he called next, nodding to the Fay sentry at the top of the landing, then made his way down the stairs to the second floor fitting rooms.

--Good morning, love. Her sweet thought caressed his mind, sending imaginary kisses his way. ...I'm in the store-front talking to customers. I'll be up soon. There is much work today. Are you ready?

Mira walked into the room and placed a tray of coffee and bear claws beside Harrys fitting table. He sent the image to Sandra and replied.

--I will be in a moment. Harry sweetened his coffee and performed obeisance to Mira, sighing with the first sip. Mira sat on the floor and studied his detached observation of reality with interest.





Chosen Mate Ch. 11



The man to the dealers left won the draw for big blind and play got under way. There were five players left when the dealer burned and turned the flop; they were all hopeful except the hairy man. His emotions wavered as his head did drunkenly. Two thousand dollars waited on the felt. When play reached the river only two were left. The man with the glasses went all-in. His opponent folded. The man with the glasses showed his pocket sixes that gave him a full house.

And so it went, far into the night. The table had six players left when the hairy man slurred.

"Lass han for me." He had taken only small pots and was ready to leave. He played his cards blind. There were four left as the cards flopped. Abraham looked at Harry, shook his head and checked. The Formorian felt that the flop had missed him; he would fold with any bet. He looked at his cards in disgust; so would he. Hairy man continued to play his cards blind. "Five thousand," he said. The man in second position contemplated his hand. He was sure the man would go all-in at the river but he merely called. Check said the hairy man at the turn, still with no idea what his hole cards were. All-in, said the man with confidence. Call, said the hairy man who turned his cards and looked to see what they were. Pocket eights, the Formorian smiled.

"Trip eights against two pair," called the dealer as the river fell, and began arranging the chips.

The hairy man began stuffing chips in his pockets; he was helped to his feet by a guard and the beautiful woman. The Formorian enjoyed the sight of her quivering breasts as she bent over helping her husband to his feet. What a lucky man, he said again to himself, as the hairy man moved away, passing out chips to every hotel employee he passed.





Chosen Mate Ch. 12



Harry's notes: chapter 12. The last in this book save for an epilogue and some notes I made for myself, yeah, you too, but mostly me to explain to myself the possible existence of the race of Fay, enough. *sigh*

This one will rip your balls off, twist your tits, break your heart, make you wonder what the next book will bring or I will have failed and you lost.

*

Eleanor met Edgar at the hanger as she did just before dawn each morning. She led him away to her bower for food, wine, and her soothing ministrations, chattering away as they ate, drank, and did other things; he was unspeaking this morning. There were no savage, hating declarations made; no exclamations of pleasure escaped him during their brief joining; not even a yes or no dropped from his lips to her questions. She helped him shower and then watched in worry from the hanging vines that covered her door as he left for the hanger. She brought the stick in with her as she turned to her rooms.

Edgar returned to the hanger where he was a constant inhabitant of the R&D sections. He was usually ignored while he studied Harry's sketchbooks, made molds from the carbon filament fabric that comprised the skin and framework of the LTA, or just walked around it as an animal would the bars of a cage that held some joint of meat, smelled but unreachable.

Working on his assigned craft by day and flying nightly as he was accustomed, he flew as long as there was fuel to keep his craft airborne; then, he brought it to the hanger, silently, with small applications of the battery powered steerage that was his own contribution to the 'OWL' class of LTA's. He would talk for hours with the pilots that flew the seemingly endless permutations of crafts. They listened intently to stories of his nightly flights over the island in the Endless Sea as he waited for the return of the Shining People. His words created a sense of assimilation of the moving air that was extraordinary.

--And then as you turn and breathe the rushing air upon your beak, you lift your head, soaring high above the surface of the water. At last you let your eye search the depths where the land waits for your return. A beat of wings there, high in the sky, and you descend, gliding in the current of the air as a fish navigates the streams and rivers. He was silent as he sent them the movements from his mind. His thought was soft for those that left with the intent to visit the island, spread auras wide free to the sun that shone there, fly.

--Oh, if our birds could only feel the air on them as we do in flight, Edgar said one morning as dawn's arrival ended their practice of running scenario after scenario to hone their skills as Edgar did the ancient iron artifact from the temple during the day

He worked far into the day after Dry Run, preparing the new Owl for the night to come. He fitted the last component, the integral one to his new modifications. Climbing into the cockpit he flipped a switch; there was a soft whine as some mechanism moved in the craft. He deplaned again and smiled in satisfaction at the smooth nose of the craft.

He spent the rest of the day sitting in the open doorway of Harry's shop. Pale green aura crackling in the charging waves of the sun, he ran a wet stone over and over the gleaming edges of the old iron weapon. Fay worked on leather goods behind him. The rasp of the stone was the only sound in shop and mind until the day turned dark. Eleanor watched him vanish into the night from the shadows of the field, tears falling from her eyes.





Chosen Mate Ch. 12



He was well on his way, watching Edgar as he was led away by Eleanor, when Leonard fell in beside him; he was wearing his armor. Harry looked at him briefly as he neared the center then looked up, 'seeing' the shop above and passed. He walked to the door and let Max in to dance about him and grumble out his greeting. Harry gave him a length of jerky from a container on the bench, smiling as he ran back out the door into the darkness, shaking it. Harry opened the bottle of Jack and drank, letting its fumes clear his head and nasty mouth; the fiery warmth filled him. He offered the bottle to Leonard who shook his head.

--I greet you, Har ri na, but I want none of the Jack Daniels cure. He eyed the bottle warily. There is much to talk of; he began with an oblique comment and returned his eyes to Harry's haunted face. ...Is it true that Ed ga ri destroyed the jet in Memphis?

--Yes, it's true. I had no idea Edgar armed his craft until he told me of the sword. What is going on here?

--Lord Sand is in the Great Hall with the council as the crisis unfolds. The People are mobilized. The lesser Fay in the burrows have been sent to the Endless Sea until it is known how to proceed.

--Has he seen the T.V. yet; are there any reports from the media in Memphis?

--Oh yes, Har ri na. Mar gay na informed him right away when the reports began. There is much speculation, mostly about mechanical failure. It was said that the jet was on final approach when it turned away then exploded. There is little chance for survivors they said.

--There is little chance of finding much from that except birdshot, Harry replied as the blast replayed in his thoughts. He asked the question that concerned him most. ...What is happening at River, Sandra...?

--She is fine, Har ri na. Oldman says they have closed the store early. Only the café is open until the kitchen is cleaned. You have retreated to your room on the third floor and will talk to no one.

--Very convenient for me, Harry said, smiling wryly and wishing that he were safely behind the doors there. Leonard turned his head, then his ears as if listening; he thought at Harry.

--Lord Sand calls for you. He waits at the war table with the council.





Chosen Mate Ch. 12



--Help him, Lori thought frantically. Gerry picked up the Formorian robber, retrieving the gun from the floor, and moved toward the basement, issuing instructions rapidly.

--Leo nar di, call 911 and report the shooting, the robber left out the back door; if anyone asks, the surveillance cameras have no recording devices. Lori, you were upstairs and saw nothing; now cover yourself! She pulled her illusion tight about herself again. Sirens sounded, growing closer to the cafe'.





Chosen Mate Ch. 13



Epilog

Harry's notes: Ad Interim Hoc. So, here it is, the last save my closing remarks and perhaps a tease for which may follow. It's been fun sharing my dreams with you; there are pages of others and more swirling 'cross my thoughts, and if I'd stop writing poetry, there's more instead of naught. I'm placing this in Romance where the story began; a good place to end. I think Oldman would agree.



His encircled listeners were silent as the last words were spoken. Of course they did not live happily ever after, but there were years where the illusion of happiness covered them like warm fuzzy blankets against a cold winter. He paused, thinking back on the countless permutations of operations that followed River and Sweetwater; all the long preparation, that led finally, to the year of blood and fire that removed the Formorian's control of humanity and slaughter of Fay on this continent.

His thoughts once again turned over the waters. He wondered if others were born into bondage far across them in the same manner that his child was born to freedom. His awareness looked into the void of the shining paths. He picked one and followed it away. Oldman's voice, lost in the distance, spoke from the paths of somewhere behind him, calling for Sandra.

--Har ri na, is the story over? What happened after that? The Dreamer did not speak; his eyes slowly closed. The boy looked up as the Princess entered his sphere of awareness. The children observed her anxious aura speeding toward them with wide eyes; they wondered what stray dog wandered in their midst. 

Sandra rushed across the sand to Harry side at Oldman's call. Bring mother she thought sharply to the youth. He sped toward the city, spurred by the urgency in her mind, calling for Margay as he streaked toward the city.

Sandra splashed into the warm pool, still encircled by the children that had never seen such an occurrence in their lives. Wrapping herself around Harry, she poured healing energy into the dim spark that she loved so well. Sandra called to the faint shadow of Harry's awareness, so far away in the shining paths of purple that had no end.

--Attend me Harry! She commanded. ...We are not done with you yet. Sobs loosed her salty tears to fall, raining brokenheartedly on his silent unmoving form, and into the salty water where he lay. ...I do not know if I can continue without you love. She cried; her aura dimed, as she gave all the energy she contained to his unmoving body. The children extended their wings to Sandra, adding their energy to hers. Harry took a breath, then became still again. 

Margay was a white blur, moments later, that raced over the sand to them. She moved into the nest, pushing Sandra out of the way, and placed her hands on Harry's thin chest. Her silver white wings spread, huge as they gathered energy from the sun.

--Not so fast, Dreamer. Did you ask your leave? None will go before me, unless sent away; all those called will come. I call you, Har ri na, return to my presence. Her white radiance poured into him with a force like a borning sun. His spark of life brightened and he awoke, blinking and looking into their faces.

--Did I fall asleep? He asked looking about at the faces of his adopted people, clustered around him with concerned thoughts.

--Yes my Lord. Sandra said. ...You were dreaming. Tears of joy and sadness were on her face for the man that had lived twice the span of a normal human. ...Come love, lets away to our fairy bedroom. They walked across the sand to the city. The children ran alongside them, singing, as they returned to the sweet shaded streets of the city, that waited under the trees before them.

Oldman was silent, looking into the path from where Harry returned. The youth turned his wrinkled forehead and his wondering thoughts to him.

--Oldman, what happened to the Dreamer? Where did he go? For a moment Oldman paused, a rare occurrence for him who could compress so many thoughts into an instance of time.

--I believe it was the path that all men must take, Fay too, at one time of their life.

--Where does it go, Oldman? Is there another Endless Sea?

--I don't know. I haven't been down it yet.. He felt Sandra tug at the golden cord that joined the three. He sped to her thoughts, looking out of her eyes and listening from her ears as they moved to Sand Castle, under the green growth that covered the fortress, watching over the gulf. The children sang the song of the Dreamer on the way.



Chosen Mate



"Clutch!" She repeated.

--Whatever you do, don't let her drive. Oldman warned.

Harry depressed the petal. She slid the gearshift smoothly into first. Harry put his hand over hers. She looked at him. He was watching her face; it was that of a demented teenager; she was ready to hit the streets wasting fuel and rubber. Harry pulled them back to second gear then released her hand. Putting his on the wheel, he smiled amusedly.

"Ready?" He said giving the gas a shot and grinning as he reached over to give her belt a tug.

"I thought I had already answered that question," She answered distractedly, still fondling the shifters.

"Fine then," Harry replied, grasping the wheel again, laughing manically inside at her expression when he popped the clutch and let the truck bound forward.

She looked like a rodeo rider as he continued to goose the petal, her hair flying about her head in silken whips each time he rapped the gas making the truck bounce down the alleyway.

"Yeaeeeeehaaaaaaaa!" Sanra exclaimed as they bounded along, echoing down the alley. Harry was gassing it every time they crossed a gutter, sending the truck airborne.

"It really is a bullfrog, isn't it," she chortled as he made the last turn into the bank lot, backing up to the night deposit.

"It does know how to hop." He smirked, as she unbuckled and slid to the passengers window to place her bank bag into the night deposit drawer. Harry admired the view as she hung half in half out of the truck with her backside waving back and forth. He ached to run his hands over the enticing display.

"Alright," the drawer slammed shut. She scrambled back to the center of the seat, buckled up, placed her hands on the gearshift and looked at him. "Let's go eat."

He depressed the clutch, watching her as she shifted into second, then drove smoothly around the bank and on to the empty street. He accelerated, then clutched. Sandra made the shift into third like she was an extra hand. Well done he thought, glancing out of the corner of his eye at her ear-to-ear grin.

***

Mildred's coffee shop was the only place in the town of Backwater open after 10:00 P.M. All the quick food places closed then. Because of the interstate, Mildred's stayed open 24 hours a day. The small restaurant did a steady, if lack luster, business until 5:00 A.M., then went full bore until after the evening mealtime. It was always neat, clean, and open.

The parking lot held two semi-trucks and three cars, one of which was Bobs Corolla. Harry drove onto the lot and shut the truck down, extinguished the lights, then reached for Sandra's seat belt. When he released the catch, she flowed into his arms and onto his lap, leaning back on the steering wheel to face him.

Her hands combed his shoulder length hair and very full beard; her eyes again locked on his as his trembling hands stroked her hair and waist slowly. The sinuous motions of her hips soon destroyed the earlier personal adjustment he had made in the parking lot of the bar.

"Feed me" she said quietly, continuing to move and kissing his lips pleadingly. Her scent filled his head; her touch was electric; her eyes took away his thoughts and will. He groaned into her mouth and pulled away reluctantly.

"Let's go keep you from starving. I want to watch you eat anyway." He opened his door, slid to the pavement, and lifted her down slowly and carefully. She was a lot lighter than she looked. They walked to the door bumping and jostling each other, her hand on his shoulder and his at her waist.

The two truck drivers sat on stools at the counter, a seat between them, drinking coffee and chatting between bites. They turned as Harry and Sandy entered, ignoring him, but giving her the head to toe look.

"Get us a booth," Sandra said, sliding from his arm, hand trailing down his back and ducked into the ladies room near the front door, fumbling in her purse. He continued across the floor and slid into a booth by the window facing the front door.

Bob had spotted him as he entered and was leaning across the table to speak to Billy who turned to smirk in his direction. Harry shook his head in resignation and turned his back on them to sit in the booth, mind churning with the unexpected turn his night was taking.

"Going to get lucky tonight Harry? It looks like you did already. What happened to her hair?" Bob's voice breathed alcoholic fumes over his shoulder.

"Go away Bobby or I will hurt you." Harry said, voice filled with annoyance. He turned his head to give him the 'don't screw around 'look.

Bob was in full smile, eyes twinkling with silent laughter. He saw Billy; one booth back, with the same expression on his face. Harry turned placing his elbows on the table and his face in his hands.

"Bob if you mess this up I'll make sure the sucker fish fairy never lets you catch a bass again." Bob howled, and then looked up to see Sandra coming toward them. He left quickly, diving back in his own booth and proceeded to concentrate on his meal.

"Headache?" Sandra asked, sinking down on the opposite side of the booth and tossing her purse on the seat beside her. He looked up from his hands. She was smiling, hair brushed and tucked behind her ears, revealing silver earrings. She had applied lip-gloss and eye shadow. A little makeup went a long way with her. He straightened looking for the waitress who seemed to be on her way carrying two mugs and a pot of coffee then turned back to Sandra.

"Yeah, two of them, Bob and Billy are here. I threatened Bob with fairy retribution unless he left" Sandy laughed as her eyes lifted from his face and spotted the two brothers who were busy not looking their way.

"Humph, Those two"

"Hi Sandra," the waitress said as she deposited coffee mugs and menus before them. Harry knew her from eating here occasionally. She always seemed to be efficient and timely when he had eaten here before, and never seemed to make more trips from the kitchen than were necessary. Harry had always tipped her well for competence.

"Hello Donna. Are you making it O.K.?" Sandra smiled; her glinting eyes conveyed their own unspoken account of her night.

"Yeah, you know. Work, sleep, eat, and then start again. Know what you want?" She asked Sandra with small aside looks at Harry.

"I'm famished Donna. Give me two over easy, biscuit, hash browns, sausage, gravy and a small O.J." She said with no look at the menu.

"Right," Donna said, jotting on her ticket then looked to Harry. "and you" she said studying him. He felt like he was interviewing for some position she would make the determination of. He smiled, nodding his head up and down.

"I'll have the same please, except tomato juice instead of orange."

Donna left, leaving them to stare at each other. The silence grew but neither seemed to care. They were content for the moment to look into the face that sat across the table. Harry wondered to himself if he was lucky or cursed. The idea that some exciting woman, beautiful, intelligent, full of life and mischief as she was would actually contemplate being with him was overwhelming. The thought that this was just a tease disturbed him also. He was so ready to have someone in his life again.

He broke their stare and hung his head picking up the wrapped silverware and starting to shred the napkin. Doom, he thought. This would probably never be the end of his long-suffering but the promise, the hope, the wanting, was enough to keep him going for the moment. He dropped the napkin, picked up his mug, raised his eyes to hers, and took a sip. Good coffee but he had forgotten the sweetener. Before he could put the cup down, Sandra's toe touched the inside of his thigh.

His startled leg jerked hitting the bottom of the table with a loud bump. Coffee slopped all over his side of the table, his shirt and ran over the edges as he reacted in surprise. She laughed, grabbing napkins to help him soak up the mess.

"God you're touchy! I'm going to have sensitivity adjustment classes with you quick before you destroy the coffeehouse." Harry looked up shaking his head in unbelief, hands full of soggy napkins. Twisted-pursed lips were showing his chagrin as she smiled at his reactions. He suspected that she loved having fun tormenting him. He stood, coffee dripping from his black long sleeved dress shirt, and walked to the men's room to dry off, saying over his shoulder.

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to dry this off."

He stood in front of the sink in the restroom, shirt off, staring into the mirror while rinsing his clothing. Glaring at the wild man that glared back at him he said.

"You are going to blow this for us if you don't calm down."

The door opened and Sandra stood there, watching him in the mirror. When he turned, she walked over to run her hands over his flat abdomen. A gasp escaped him as he shivered under her touch; breathing hard as her fingers examined the scar running from just above his navel down into his jeans. Her caress was like fire. He could feel the skin peeling back from the heat of her fingers as she traced the scar down to its base just above his pubic hair.

"Wow you really do have a bad scar," she said, leaning her head on his chest and looking down to view the damage done to him in his younger years. Her hair trailing down his chest flayed away the skin missed by the touch of her fingers.

"What happened here?" She asked looking at his back and prodding the puckered scar on his left shoulder that her roaming fingers discovered in their explorations. The flames were gone now; the crackle and spark of static electricity followed her hand as she examined the old wound.

"Uh, let's see if I can remember. That one would be a car crash in ...1980?" He answered after a moment's thought. Her hands were tormenting his touch-starved body. He was having trouble breathing.

"Are you ready to eat?" he asked while flapping the shirt in the air in an attempt dry it fast enough to protect his body from the terrible assault of her flaming, battery charging, deadly fingers.

She lifted her head from its close inspection, kissed the scar, and took the shirt from his hands, moving to the electric hand dryer and holding it under the stream of hot air with her hot little hands. The shirt, thin and light, quickly dried out and she helped him back in it.

"I told you. I am so ready to eat," she said sneaking a look at his blown away face while buttoning his shirt and arranging his hair over the collar. Finished, she rubbed his stomach with an open palm.

"Do you want your shirt tucked in?" She asked, eating her lips to keep from breaking into laughter at his wide eyes as he processed this new question.

--Oh my God, oh my God. Say yes, Harry! Oldman babbled in his head.

"Ah. No thanks. Ah it should dry faster out than in," he said swiftly. Madness reduced him to gibbering in her presence.

"Good to go then. Class one complete. Let's eat." She said and walked out with a wink on her decidedly smug face.

He followed her back to the table where their breakfast was waiting. She sat and dug in. Harry stepped to a nearby booth and grabbed the hot sauce, because that is the only way to eat eggs, a chance for a calming little breath helped too.

My God! That girl was high octane and the sparks were flying everywhere. Combustion was eminent. He turned back to the table. She was well into her meal, eating with both hands, but he noticed that ear twitching again. She knew he was standing there watching her. He sighed, took a big breath, and walked to the table. B & B (Bob and Billy) walked past on their way out saying goodnight to Sandra in small voices. She said nothing, giving them a quick flash of her eyes as they passed.

"Goodnight guys see you later," Harry said. "Drive safe." They answered, hands waving over their shoulders, and then leaned in to each other, jabbering away down to the cash register and out the door.

My, my, they sure were careful around her. She was like wolf bane for rednecks. Then why was he immune? He was well on his way to catching up with Sandra race to wipe the last trace of food from the plate when he heard the Corolla's rubberband putter off. He looked up from his plate in time to see her rise up for a sip of juice. He smiled a cocky, smart-ass smile. She sputtered with giggles into her glass. Placing it back on the table, she wiped her chin then used the napkin on him.

"You do enjoy your food." She said, brushing biscuit crumbs out of his beard.

"As do you," Harry replied, returning the favor and wiping gravy from the front of her blouse while he scanned the room to see if they were under observation.

"Make sure you get it all" Sandra murmured and leaned forward, thrusting her chest forward and shoulders back. Contact! Harry's brain screamed as her breast pressed against the hand holding the napkin. They were firm and solid. He managed to pull his hand back, slowly, and begin eating again quickly.

"Getting full?" He asked, chasing the last bits of hash browns around his plate and draining his cup. Leaning back, he shook his head at the waitress, who gave up trying to fill his cup and Sandra's, dropping the check on the table and leaving. The place was empty now except for the staff, who gathered at a large table rolling silverware, snacking, and speaking to each other in the easy way of co-workers.

"Not quite yet, I am done with breakfast though." She answered, wiping her face and chin then leaning back in the booth; arms behind her head, she stretched like a cat, arching her back and licking the corners of her lips; her tongue searched for any remaining traces of food. He stared, and then picked up the ticket. Standing he dropped a tip on the table and said.

"I'm going to take care of the bill." He said, escaping gracefully.

At the register, Donna took the check and rang him up, asking if everything had been satisfactory. Harry smiled, told her everything was fine as usual, and then turned to go. Donna stopped him with a hand on his arm and a serious look.

"This is the first time I've ever seen Sandra in here with a man. Be nice to her." Harry hesitated, looking out the window where Sandy was walking around the truck, running her hands over the frog skin paint job that he done this spring in a fit of boredom and inspiration, then turned to face her.

"Miss Donna, I don't know if she's an angel or a demon, but I would follow her to Heaven or Hell if she wanted me to." She nodded looking at his face full of fear and hope, eyes welling and threatening to overflow; a small smile touched her lips.

"Go, she's waiting for you." She released his arm. He looked back at her with a nod that she returned that reminded him of a bow. He walked out, stopping near the door and firing up a 'ciggie'.

Sandra had climbed onto the truck bed. She stood behind the cab holding the roll bar with the various lights designed to light up the night. Harry stood and smoked by the door watching her inspect the truck. She reminded him of a child on a playground. He had just finished his smoke when she looked up to see what was keeping him. She spotted him by the door and stood straight, waiting for him.

Here we go, Harry muttered to himself and started walking toward her. She waited, arms at her sides, as he opened the door then held out his arms for her. She sat backwards on the side of the truck bed, swiveled her legs around and let him pick her up. Arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder, she nuzzled his neck while he took the single step to the door. He placed her in the driver's seat then handed her the keys.

"Buckle up." He smiled, as she looked at the keys in her hand. Then, he walked around to scramble into the passenger's seat and adjust his own safety equipment.

When he turned to her, he could see Donna's face, watching from the dinner window. Sandra fumbled the keys into the ignition, frowning when it did not start as she turned the key. She checked the stick. Yes, it was in neutral, and then looked to him for instructions.

"Depress the clutch first." Harry said gently. The truck rumbled to life at her actions. Harry leaned over, hand on her thigh, and flipped a switch.

"Lights, this is the fuel for tank one, oil pressure, and the high beam switch is by your left foot." He said, tapping gauges and pointing. She nodded, put the truck in first, and released the clutch easily. She drove around the lot, the engine running fast in the low gear.

"I see why you use second now." She said, shifting up to Harry's normal in-town position then made two more circuits of the empty lot before driving onto the deserted streets. Harry leaned back resting his arm on the back of the bench seat, playing with her hair, and stroking the smooth lines of her neck as she let the truck wander the town. Soon she was driving smoothly, even dimming the lights when the police drove by heading in the opposite direction, each waved as they passed.

She turned into the cemetery as she neared the edge of town and drove to the back. A small hill allowed observation of the front gate.

***

Lord Sand was standing, silhouetted, on the gentle slopes of one of the hills that surrounded the town of Backwater. He was dressed in dark clothing. His short white hair and close trimmed beard framed a face containing pale eyes that glinted in the darkness but did not reveal their color in the night. His daughter had finally chosen a mate, unfortunately he was human.

He watched the truck containing Sandra and Harry as it moved through quiet night and the deserted streets there. It was the only vehicle traveling except for the patrol car. It passed them and he saw them wave as they headed out of town toward the lights from the interstate that moved north and south constantly. When it drove down Cemetery road, he turned and strolled over the hills in that direction.

***

Quickly shutting off the engine, the lights, and slipping from her seat belt, she walked across the seat on her knees then leaned her back against the dash. Folded legs bounced open and shut against his side. She reached down and released the catch of his seat belt. Harry's arm still rested on the back of the seat.

"Class two," she said, placing a hand in his waistband and pulling forward to his lips. They kissed long and slow. Harry suddenly discovered his hand on her breast; the hard nipple pressed into his palm. He let it move on its own to cup, squeeze, and slide over the sweet curves he had been introduced to at breakfast.

He felt his jeans pop as the button was undone. Leaning forward, using both hands he skinned the blouse over her head and threw it on the dash; His eyes recorded her image as she leaned back in the dim vantage of the security lights.

Hair wild, eyes on his, she arched her back stretching like a cat. Her fingers moved at his waist. His zipper rasped down. He tried to reach for her but a knee suddenly pressed against his chest pinning him to the seat. She pulled his jeans where the zipper ended, gaining more room for her fingers to explore and free him. She lightly traced her fingers around him until his head filled with the thundering sound of throbbing blood.

Harry was again restrained as he tried to reach for her. His breath caught in a gasp of pleasure as she started to examine him slowly, He remembered his left hand. He reached with it to the knee pinning him. She pressed harder to keep him from moving.

"Don't get excited," he said, "I'm not trying to escape." He slid his hand, fingers extended and locked like a claw; the rasping sound of his nails on the fabric as they moved down the inside of her thigh slowly was escorted by her groan of pleasure. The pressure of her knee lessened and her legs opened widely. The heel of his hand rotated slowly over her center, hidden under the fabric of her jeans. Her hand, joined by her left, moved faster on him. He had been up and down too many times this evening and began to revolt at this unaccustomed abuse. He felt that old familiar feeling that told him he would not last but a moment more and tried to warn her.




Chosen Mate



"Sandra you better stop quickly. I'm going to lose it!" He warned desperately, keeping his hand moving on her but not in a co-coordinated way.

His feet tried to push out the floor of the truck.

She said nothing, continuing her motions until he stopped trembling and lay exhausted against the seat. When she slowed enough for him to get his breath again, he tried to rise only to be pressed back again. He gave up, leaning back and watching her. "I'm not trying to escape." He assured her again.

"Open my purse, there are some wet wipes in it," She said, looking at her fingers. He dug through her purse, holding it near the under dash light while noticing that it was one of his creations by the logo branded on the inside of the fringed flap. He found wet wipes and antibacterial wipes in the large pocket under the flap and held one of each up for her. She pointed to the wet wipe. He opened the package for her. She took it and cleaned her hands.

He unsnapped and zipped down her jeans, folding the sides back to display black lace low under her belly button, and let his hands wander there in sensation-starved abandon. She stopped, threw the wipe in a trash sack that hung from the dash, and turned her hands back him.

"This is going to be a long class isn't it?" She asked. He responded by reaching under her to grasp the back of her jeans and pull them toward him until they rested midway on her thighs, revealing the black lace thong. He ran his hand over the black satin. She stopped, and taking an antibacterial wipe cleaned his hands, inspecting his nails as she did, then placed his hand back and continued her former movement. He pulled her jeans over her knees then down to her ankles.

Restrained no longer, her legs fell apart giving him complete access to her. She was taking little short breaths now, head back on the glass behind her. She shivered, gasping in quick deep breaths as she held his hand with both of hers.

She cried loudly, a spasm ran through her then she fell limp. He continued to move for a moment then stopped, looking at her face. She whined in disappointment. Unbelievable he thought looking at her limp body. He began again. She moaned weakly.

"Enough of this," Harry muttered, and began untangling their bodies, struggling to lift her dead weight back on the seat. She ended up face down, legs across his thighs, feet in the air. Her toes pointed out the window. He pulled her underwear down her body to join her jeans puddled around her knees. He copied her earlier action with a hand on the small of her back holding her down while enjoying the feel of a woman's body that had been denied to him for so long. She turned her head on the seat, hair covering her face then her arms moved under her shoulders trying to push up. She spoke gratingly.

"Harry, Stop, Enough, please Wait." He kept going, placing his palm between her shoulder blade to keep her down; she tried to push up again. She shook her head, clearing her face of the hair, revealing her pleading eyes. Harry's grin changed to a devilish one as his hand moved. Her head sank with a moan. She convulsed again and went limp, again breathing hard. Harry didn't relent but did slow his movements.

"Do you want me to pee all over you and your truck?" Her muffled voice emerged from the cushions, and then she exploded into action. Turning, spinning, kicking her legs, she struggled to free herself.

He let her go, holding his endangered body in his hand. She scooted up in the seat, kicking her dangling pants and underwear to the floor of the truck. Opening the driver's door, she stepping to the ground, her nude body gleamed with sweat in the sodium security light. She squatted to pee, saying with unguarded enthusiasm.

"God, it's been such a long time since I've let a man have me!" Her eyes narrowed; she spoke softly. "You know you will pay for holding me down don't you?" He believed her.

She stood, legs spread wide and wiped, looking in the open door at him staring back at her with awe and wonderment at her beauty of body and face. She shook her breasts at him teasingly while she finished wiping. He still held his pride and joy and shook it back at her. She dived in across the seat and pulled his hand away.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Harry pleaded. "I want to see your face while you do that"

"Tough!" she answered, voice muffled. She gave an excellent oral examination, or maybe it had been so long he couldn't remember. He tried again to put his feet through the floor and was sure he'd succeed when the world became fuzzy 30 seconds later. He gave no warning. She rolled over to look at him as he lay back on the seat, chest heaving. She laughed, pleased with herself, and then began to chatter away.

***

As the white haired figure of Lord Sand neared the slopes over the cemetery, he spotted two Fay, close together, observing the activity in the truck below them. Their breathless amusement was punctuated by crude remarks that angered him as he slipped near them. He stood scant feet behind them and willed his raging temper to subside. The childish remarks and prying eyes of the two near overcame his efforts, but at last he was able to speak in the cold even words that he sought.

"Bob, Billy, what are you doing?" The quiet inquisitive sound of his voice galvanized them into shocked movement. Bob spun around, sliding down the slope at the voice that came from so near. Billy took off with a cry of startlement and raced across the hills in full flight. He would not stop until he reached the station by the interstate, if then, he thought; he turned his gaze on Bob, who knelt where his sliding actions had halted.

"Bob, there are no strangers below for you to watch. You have duties elsewhere do you not?" Bob hung his head and nodded silently. "Sandra will be ...upset ...when she finds out you were intruding on a private moment." Bob knew that 'upset' was nothing to what the fiery Princess would feel, but he answered.

"Yes, Lord." The thoughts of the feelings of incense that she would display shone from his face. Her reputation for violence was well known.

"You may go now," Lord Sand said. Bob left in hurried imitation of Billy.

He walked slowly down the slope, moving among the stones there, as the voices of the two in the truck sounded in the quiet night with gasps of sensual exclamation and the easy laughter of lovers. He stopped by the tall stone that covered the remains of his brother, lost so long ago. He held the stone in his arms in an attempt to be closer to his departed sibling and spoke softly in the concealing night.

"We live still brother." Sandra's quasi-enraged voice caused him to glance behind him to where the man gave as well as he got, refusing to be completely suborned by her demands. He smiled at their playful words; caressing the stone once more then strolled away over the hills to attend to his own duties with a final glance downhill.

***

"The sun will be up soon." Harry observed, looking at the pink tinged sky to the east. The stars were fading from the cloudless sky. Sandra groaned and sat up searching the floorboard for her clothing.

Laughing inside with amusement, Harry opened the door and relieved himself at the side of the truck then shook off, tucking it back in his pants, and zipping up.

"What do we do now, Sandra? We can't stay here. People are going to be going to work soon. We need to move. I've had a great time. Are you done with me?" Harry asked as he walked around the truck and climbed in the driver's seat.

She pulled her shoes from the floorboard and set them on the seat between them while covering her sweet body. Looking up the still hillside above them, her eyes were lost for a moment. She turned, glancing at him as he held the wheel, head down, not looking at her. She suddenly realized that he thought that she was only playing with him. Her heart cried for the man that had so much love and affection in him, that thought he wasn't worthy to receive the same.

"Done with you, Harry?" She said with wet eyes, buckling in the center seat, again hugging his arm with both of hers and laying her head on his shoulder.

"I haven't even started yet."