Monday, November 30, 2015

Minuet has a Strange Light in Her Eye

Stone Heart Render
Rose stood stiffly on the stool as a pair of seamstresses pinned the hem of Minuet's wedding gown. Minuet stood watching, radiant with happiness at her decision to wed as well as at her decision to wear her gown. "I'm more certain than ever that Mother and Father never expected me to marry," she thought with a smile. "Mother," she said, "I
suppose you understand that Fuzz and I want to wait for Lukus and Soraya to arrive
before we have the wedding?"
"That's what your father and I assumed," said Minuet as she stooped to examine just how her hem was pinned in a certain place, "but Lukus and his family should be arriving in a few short weeks, which really only gives us scarcely enough time for all the arrangements."
"We have plenty of time if we keep it small enough, Mother," said Rose with a smile.
Minuet opened her mouth to protest, but closed it with a grin. "It is your wedding, Rose. And I suppose you're right, all things considered."
"Yes," said Rose, as she thought: "After calling off the extravagant affair with James, who knows how it would go? Besides, these are bad times upon us." She stepped off the stool and out of the gown as the seamstresses carried it away for alterations. "Mother," she said, picking up her robe from across a chair. "I've come to a decision. I want you to do something for me, if you will."
"My word. Is something wrong?"
"Very wrong, actually. But to put you at ease, this has nothing to do with the wedding."
"By all means dear, if I possibly can. What is it?"
"Could you teach me to use my powers?"
"Why, I thought you'd decided that you wanted nothing to do with becoming a sorceress, Rose," she said with an astonished look.
"No, by no means. I never did. But I suppose I was doing little more than following in your footsteps, all these years. I think that under the current circumstances it would be irresponsible to have such an ability and not use it for the good of all."
Minuet's eyes flashed.
"Oh, my! I didn't mean it to sound that way. I was only referring to me. Our circumstances are altogether different. I'm not queen of anywhere. Fuzz is a military man
and will undoubtedly be in the thick of what's coming, and I've every intention of being
right beside him, so will you teach me?"
"Have you discussed this with Fuzz, dear? It would not be right to keep something like this to yourself."
"Not yet," said Rose with a sigh, "but rest assured, he'll abide by whatever I..."
"Of course Rose, I'd not expect otherwise. But it would put me at ease, knowing that you'd discussed it with him."
"You're so provincial, Mother."
"'Considerate' is what we once called it, I believe."
"I'll go speak with him this minute, but I suggest you go dig out your wand."
"All right," said Minuet, as a strange light kindled in her eye. "You've a bargain."
Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Thanksgiving Surprise, Part 2

Thanksgiving Surprise 3
Thanksgiving Surprise, Part 2
Carol Marrs Phipps
Illustrated By:
Lana Cramer Dobbins
"Let’s stop here for just a bit, Gobbler,” Krista said as she planted herself down on a large, flat-topped tree stump and motioned that he should draw near for his usual session of scratching, petting and being told him how extremely magnificent he was.
He went to her at once and leant blissfully into her hand. As she began her deft ministrations, he gobbled a sigh of utter contentment.
“I have a surprise for you Gobbler. Today is a very special day, my sweet,” Krista crooned as she wove her nimble fingers through Gobbler’s satiny feathers. “It is a holiday we humans call Thanksgiving. It is a time when we gather together with our loved ones and give thanks for our bounty. This year, dear one, you will be the guest of honor and from then on you will forever be a part of me. How does that sound?”
In answer Gobbler simply pushed his head further into her soothing fingers and closed his eyes dreamily. He didn’t see farmer Stanz coming up from behind his wife to hand her the freshly sharpened hatchet and then step back by the rail fence to observe Gobbler’s execution at the hands of the woman he adored.
Suddenly, Krista’s fingers tightened painfully in Gobbler’s neck feathers and his eyes flew open in shock. He stared up into Krista’s beautiful green eyes imploring her to tell him what he had done for her to suddenly treat him in this manner. The odd gleam in her eyes and the humorless grin she gave him in return frightened him nearly senseless. He began to struggle frantically to get away from her.
“Oh no, my pet, it is much too late for that,” Krista said as she grabbed him by the throat and stood, putting her hatchet down on the stump she had just vacated. With her other hand now free, she grabbed his beak and held it shut so he couldn’t bite her. “I’ve been feeding you up for months in anticipation of the fine meal you would make for my family on Thanksgiving and I’m not about to let you get away...” With those fateful words she twisted Gobbler’s neck and he went limp at once. She smiled broadly in satisfaction and laid him carefully out with his head and neck draped over the stump. She studied him for just a moment to make certain he was dead or at the very least, safely unconscious. She picked up her hatchet and raised it to chop off his magnificent head. Just at that moment Gobbler opened his eyes which were now glowing an eerily blood-red color. He stared straight at Krista with such hatred she gasped and backed away trembling.
Farmer Stanz at once sprang towards his wife. “What are you doing, Krista? Chop the damn bird’s head off!” he commanded as she took another step back and stumbled over the bucket her husband had put there to throw Gobbler’s severed head into. Her arms instantly began to pinwheel backwards and she lost her grip on the hatchet. It spun end over end through the air then lodged deeply into the middle of the farmer’s forehead, splittting it open. Krista landed smack on her backside just in time to sprayed with blood and brains and gore from her husband’s split skull as he, too, crumpled to the ground. She let out an unearthly shriek then stumbled to her feet and tried to jerk the hatchet from her dead husband’s head. It took her three mighty attempts before she freed the instrument from where it had lodged, deep within Ben’s skull. Wildly she spun back to where Gobbler had been draped across the tree stump, but he was no longer there. He was on his feet staring at her with those unearthly glowing eyes.
“But you can’t still be alive!” she rasped. “I wrung your neck...what are you?”
Gobbler continued to stare at her as he silently advanced toward her.
Krista’s eyes bulged in terror, she raised her trembling hand with the hatchet held in her white-knuckled grip. “Stop now or I swear I’ll kill you!” she warned. But when Gobbler continued to advance she spun around and fled. Running in blind fear she tripped over her husband’s body and fell forward. Instinctively she flung her hands out before her to break her fall. Her only sound a sharp, “umph!” as she hit the ground and lay still, her life’s blood flowed from her chest and seeped away into the dirt. Krista’s chest had been ripped open when she landed on the upturned hatchet blade. It had cleaved her breastbone and sliced clean through her heart.
Thanksgiving Surprise 4
Gobbler surveyed the morbid scene for several long minutes as his glowing eyes slowly returned to their usual beady dark brown. “What do you think of your Thanksgiving surprise, now?” he asked, then slowly strutted back to his barnyard home.

Monday, November 23, 2015

Thanksgiving Surprise, Part 1

Thanksgiving Surprise 1
Thanksgiving Surprise, Part 1
Carol Marrs Phipps
Illustrated By:
Lana Cramer Dobbins
"Just look at him, Sid," Sybil Fantail gasped in dismay as she paused on the porch to the beautiful home she shared with her mate and their only son, Gobbler...and the rest of the turkey flock, of course. "He's watching for her again...I just know it."
Sid nodded as he turned back to look at his beloved. "I expect you're right. He's got the ridiculous faraway look in his eyes he always gets when he is expecting her to show up."
Sybil hurried down the few steps to stand by her mate. "He'll come to a bad end if he keeps this up. He needs to start showing some interest in one of his own kind, rather than moping after that...strange hussy. I hear tell that Rodney and Alvira Strut’s young hen, Fancy, is looking for a mate."
Sid pecked at a few grains of corn by his feet and chewed thoughtfully. "I heard that too dear, but I expect that Gobbler already knows, just as he knew about Sassey, Mandy and Peeps. No, all he can think about is that alien human thing.” He shook his head and continued. “The boy just ain’t right, darlin’...I’m sorry, but he just ain’t, and never has been. You remember, I told you back before he hatched, right after that big blow when we found his egg rolled out of the nest all the way across the floor in that dark dusty corner of the house. I told you then that we should leave him right there and try for another clutch, but you wouldn’t have it.”
Sybil eyed her spouse in irritation. “And you remember what I told you then, too,” she retorted. “I wasn’t about to abandon my very first fertile egg and I’ve no regrets that I didn’t, Sid. He’s been a good boy...until now. Well, he’s not actually bad now, either, just...a bit confused.”
“Have it your way, darlin’,” Sid soothed, “I don’t want you to get your feathers all in a knot. Maybe you’re right and he’s just going through a phase. Though, I kinda think it’s because she doesn’t miss a day coming to see him and giving him all the extra feed he wants, scratching his head and making over him like he’s somethin’ really special.”
“You may have the right of it Sid,” Sybil agreed after a moment, “but what I don’t understand is why. Why has she singled out our boy when there are dozens of others she could have chosen?”
Sid glanced at his mate, uncertain whether he should share the dire warning he had recently been given by Widow Pluckly.
Sybil, however, noticed the odd look in her mates eye and leaned close to him with an inquiring look. “I know that look, Sid,” she said with certainty, “so whatever it is you aren’t telling me you had better just do so right now!”
Thanksgiving Surprise 2
“You might wish I hadn’t, love,” he replied softly.
“Now!” she insisted.
“All right, I expect you should know this, anyway,” he conceded with a sad shake of his head. “I was out grazing on the south side of the house yesterday when Widow Pluckly strutted right up to me and told me she’d been noticing our boy had taken up with that human siren. Well...what could I say? I mean, I expect just about everyone has noticed by now, darlin’ I just nodded. Then she went on to say that her Tom had been enchanted by that very woman before he disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again...and that he vanished just about this time of year, too, so we should be keeping an extra keen eye on Gobbler.”
Sybil reared her head back and glared at her mate.. “What? How does Gladys even know that she is a widow then, if no one has ever seen or heard from her Tom again? Perhaps he just...left her for another. There are wild turkeys about in these parts, you know...and I’ve heard lots of tales about some of those hens, let me tell you!”
Sid sighed. “I know, darlin’, we’ve all heard those stories, but this is something quite different.”
“Oh?” Sybil asked. “What do you mean?”
“Darlin’ have you ever heard that at this time of year humans have a big feast they call Thanksgiving?”
“Why no, but it sounds lovely. But what do humans give thanks for?”
“I’m not exactly sure, beloved, but the point is that their feast supposedly is made up of certain traditional foods with the main course usually being a plump, juicy stuffed and roasted...turkey.”
Sybil’s beady eyes bulged in alarm. “That’s why that tramp has been feeding our Gobbler with all that extra corn and grain! We have to save him, Sid...”
Sid nodded in agreement, but when he and Sybil looked over where Gobbler had been standing for the past hour awaiting the farmer’s wife, Krista, they discovered to their utter horror he was nowhere in sight.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Hubba Hubba Versus the Stinky Beefy Boy


The_Burgeoning_Cover_for_KindleHubba Hubba, Chirp, Tweet and Squeak were returning from a reconnaissance mission for Herio in The Burgeoning when...
"There are a slew of farmsteads, though," squeaked Chirp as he bounced along in a madAerial Ballet flutter to keep up. "One of them might put us up..."
"That's ground work," chirped Tweet. "We can't ask around from the air."
"Let's just go back now," said Hubba Hubba. "If that's all that's left, we're wasting time. I hate to think of another night of Herio's scorched beans, or nothing at all like last night."
"Couldn't be that bad," tweeted Squeak. "Those folks down there look pretty hard up. A little money would surely get us what we want..."
"Yea?" said Hubba Hubba. "And it could be right risky if they thought Herio was well-to-do. A young fellow by himself?" He clacked shut his beak with a shake of his head. "Someone might try to rob him...or worse!"
"Worse, master?" squeaked Chirp.
"Hey, I remember arrows and meat cleavers and ugly manners of all sorts out of people on the ground who weren't even penniless and desperate. And don't you dare call me master! Aren't we chums these days?"
"Oh I forgot, you being a crow and all..."
"Crow! Well, I can't hide from that, but reminders of the Ugleeuh days give me a headache..." And with that, he collapsed into a headlong fall.
Crows fighting playing_14
"Hubba Hubba!" squeaked Chirp, diving madly after him. "What's wrong? Tweet! Squeak! Help!"
crows_japanHubba Hubba opened his eyes to find the ground shooting up to meet him. He began flapping furiously. "Help! Help! Help!" he cawed. "It's too late! Pebbles, I'm sorry!"
Without warning, something strange was under each of his wings. Suddenly he was seeing stars, bouncing and rolling to a rumpled stop in tall new grass.
"Oh, I hate being dead," he rattled. "Throb. Throb. Throb. That's my stinking head, but why are my wingpits doing it, too? Say! Why am I thinking?"
"It's not thinking, Hubba Hubba," squeaked Chirp, "It's just you. Now could you please lift your wing? Squeak and Tweet are under here!"
"So you ones are dead too, aye?" he said, letting out a yelp from moving his head to peer under his wing.
"Good grief no!" chirped Tweet, with a ruffle of his feathers. "We're not dead and neither are you!" He gave Hubba Hubba two or three one eyed inspections. "You sure have a knot on your knitty box. What the ding-dong blazes did you fly into up there?"
"I have no idea at all, but for some crazy reason it made me think of Ugleeuh..." And at that very instant he was yanked out of the grass by his neck.
"Hey!" crowed a stinky beefy boy with a hateful grip, as he sprang into a dancing pell-mell run through the grass. "I got him! I got him! I got him! I got him!"
Chirp, Tweet and Squeak shot into the air from where Hubba Hubba had fallen and watched in shock from the top of a big walnut tree as the stinky beefy boy made off with him through the grass. "They'll get away if we don't get moving!" squeaked Chirp as they all dove into the air.
"He'd never let someone make off with us!" tweeted Squeak.
"Let's keep up!" chirped Tweet.
"Hey!" squeaked Chirp. "Somebody tell me how we're going to save him from a grabby boy a thousand times bigger than we are. He'll pull our heads off!"
"Go for help!" chirped Tweet.
"And somebody still has to follow," tweeted Squeak.
"Someone needs to find Herio and bring him here, while the other two of us follow Hubba Hubba," squeaked Chirp. "When we see where the boy takes him, one of us comes back here and the other stays and watches...
"Yea," chirped Tweet. "And hope to the Pit he doesn't get et while we're at it!"
"Don't even think that!" tweeted Squeak.sparrow12
"Just for that, you go find Herio," squeaked Chirp.
Tweet gave a wide-eyed nod and shot away with a bouncing blur of wings.

Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom 

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Hubba Hubba and Pebbles Find Unicorns

"I know you tried Wiz, but this is disgusting," said Hubba Hubba, jerking back with a drool-flinging shake of his beak and ruffled feathers. "What are you eating, giant stinking sow bugs or what?"
"That's shrimp, Hubba Hubba," said Razzmorten.
"It's out of the sea, you silly bird, not out from under some old rotting board in a barn lot," said Lukus with a laugh, as everyone else broke out with titters.
"All right, all right," said Hubba Hubba, as Pebbles stepped back from hers with watery eyes andamazon_sammy wiped her beak. "Dogs gobble up much worse, and they don't know any better than to offer you ones the same rot they eat. I'm sorry Wiz, you've just got me gagging, here."
"What did you find?" said Razzmorten quickly to spare Hubba Hubba's feelings.
"That old Elf has four unicorns in a large paddock near the wharf where his fishing boat is docked. He'd just come in with his catch and was at the fence giving them a scratch, when we lit and asked him if he was Kie. He answered to it, but we sure gave him a start. It might have been dangerous to do but it was quick. Anyway, he does have unicorns to sell and he'll be there if we don't fool around."
"Very good, you two," said Razzmorten, as he gave them each a scratch.
In short order they were on their way to Fen, on a sand swept lane meandering along the coast just inland from the furthest reaches of the high tide. Rose and Fuzz rode Mystique through the saw grass to follow along on the beach for a spell. Sandpipers trotted ahead. Crabs scuttled sideways into holes. Rose rested her head against Fuzz's shoulders and gave him a squeeze. Soon they were dismounting in front of a cottage that smelt vaguely of rotting fish, where Hubba Hubba and Pebbles circled overhead.
They found the Elf feeding his unicorns. "Hoy there, Kie!" called Razzmorten. We are travelers on our way to see King Neron, and we'd like very much to purchase two of your unicorns to speed us over the mountains, if you've any for sale."
امازون دبل يلو"How is it that you and your green birds know my name and I know not yours?" said Kie, pushing back his floppy hat with a squint as he spit across the fence.
"A young fellow by the name of Galor told us about you, sir," said Fuzz.
"Good lad," said Kie, shifting his chew into his other cheek as he put his foot on the fence. "Well folks, I really hadn't planned on selling these unicorns. You know they're my pets, I'm afraid. I've had these here since they were colts."
"Oh she's darling," said Rose as she scratched a short-legged one who had just come to investigate. "We'll take good care of them, sir."
Ch. 29, Stone HeartStone_Heart_Cover_for_Kindle

Carol Marrs Phipps & Tom Phipps

Monday, November 16, 2015

Just How Much Magic Belongs in Fantasy?

We've been hearing about this. It seems to pop up as though magic content in a piece of writing is something wholly arbitrary, as though  it were just a matter of setting a thermostat. This shouldn't be too surprising in this digital age of stimulus starvation, this diminished world of the future, where very few of us go into the woods with an axe in order to survive, where conversation is being replaced in cinema with swooping dives off skyscrapers and tumbling infernos of colliding cars. If our fantasy writing needs punch, we just scroll to the far end and click, right? We just add magic.
We disagree. After a certain point, plunges off tall buildings get boring. Magic does add interest, depth and excitement. It can even turn loose an inventive writer's imagination, but too much ruins everything.

We use magic with a great deal of respect and restraint. What magic we use is assigned properties, just as though it were a natural phenomenon, grand and limited in the same sorts of ways as the forces of nature. Our malevolent heroine may be able use magic to travel instantly by spell, but she can't just do it because she wants to or she'll get into serious trouble. She must first use a scrying ball to see where she wants to go, or she may end up drowned in a cellar which was not supposed to be flooded. The great Crystal Heart may give her fearful powers, but she can neither call them forth nor control them without a great deal of study.
Literary tension is what we build and develop throughout a story to add excitement. Interesting characters must struggle in the same sorts of ways that everyone must in order to get where they need to go. Since we can identify with their struggles, they keep our attention. And if they are able to wield magic, there must be some sort of predictable struggle involved, or we have no reason to pay attention. If having the Crystal Heart is like running around with a smoldering stick of dynamite, we understand. It has our attention.

So how much magic in a story excites you? And just what kinds of magic intrigue and fascinate you? Tell us, if you don't mind. We'd like to know.

Carol Marrs Phipps & Tom Phipps

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Razzmorten sets out to Ease Hubba Hubba's Mind

Razzmorten drew back the tall heavy curtain and tied it before stepping off the stool with a bound. Hubba Hubba winced at the sudden light. Razzmorten drug the screeching stool across the stone floor to the far side of the window before lunging onto it with one leg to grab for the other drape and tie it back. Hubba Hubba ruffled and shook off some of his stupor to glare resentfully at Razzmorten's cheery endeavors. He vastly preferred his wonderful dream about Pebbles to this blinding sunlight. "Thank you, old fart," he thought, settling his beak into his breast feathers with a shake of his head.
"What a beautiful day," declared Razzmorten as he peered out the window and took a deep breath.
"Yea. It will be when you close the drapes again," thought Hubba Hubba, as he wiggled his beak further into his breast feathers to close his eyes.
"What would you like for breakfast, fruit or vegetables?" said Razmorten. "Maybe some whole grain porridge?"
"I'm not hungry," rattled Hubba Hubba from beneath his ruffled crown feathers.
"I see. Are you not feeling well? Perhaps if you tell me just how it is that you feel poorly, I could mix up something for you."
By this time all the sparrows had come closer to listen. Hubba Hubba shook his feathers, flinging dander into the sunlight. Suddenly he sleeked down, pointing himself at them. "Now there are six nosey pests, rather than three. Do I need this? Well, I'll tell ye: no, I do not. And if you want to know what I do want, I'd just like to be left alone for a change. Peace and quiet. Is that too much? Go build your nests. Beat it!"
"Wrong side of his perch this morning, wouldn't you say?" said Razzmorten, sharing wide eyes with the sparrows. "I doubt that he'll be very proud of his outburst after he's had two shakes to consider things. Let's just leave him to himself for a bit." The sparrows flitted back to what they had been doing at their nests, while Razzmorten went to his bedroom to read, leaving Hubba Hubba to mumble by himself.
"Lot o' 'preciation he has," he rattled from the very most guttural reaches of his crop. "Here I make my sacrifices, bringing messages about his grandchildren. And respect. I mean, what kind of respect is it to blind me with light and sadistic cheer, and six bouncy
goody-goody little slaves to rub it in? Six instead of three. I'm not getting twice as much
respect and service, here." With a huff and an especially thorough shake of feathers, he
turned his back on the brilliant morning and closed his eyes in search of his dream about
"This isn't working," he thought. "Why don't those bean brained sparrows shut up? 'Tweety, tweety, tweet...!' Great boundless Joy! The local twitterpates are jabbering all over outside. This is not working." He turned back to point himself at the window. "I'll go tell them!" He paused, straightening up to shuffle from side to side. "Whoa! Too far to the sill." But now he was making lunging thrusts at the window at each end of his perch, and he was starting to flap his wings. Now he was flapping furiously. At the fleeting thought of Razzmorten's suggestion of exercise, he let go. Before he could quite appreciate that he was truly aloft, his feet were planting themselves upon the warm stone window sill. He'd made it, and he wasn't even breathing hard. He forgot all about sleep. He looked to see if the sparrows had seen. They had. Six heads, each gawking broadside, had stopped in astonishment to take in his unexpected feat. They ducked out of sight into their nests at once.
"Hey! You ones!" he called out. "It's all right! I'm not upset. In fact, I'm sorry about the things I said earlier. Really. Aw come on! Can't a fellow have a bad mood once in a while?"
Head by head they reappeared in shocked wonder. "That's the first time that you've ever apologized for your nasty tongue," chirped Tweet.
"Yea? Maybe so. Think there's some hope for me after all?"
"May be," tweeted Squeak, "but you still have a huge way to go."
"Maybe you're right, but old habits die hard, don't you know. Give me some slack. I'm working on it."
"Hey, the master's developing humility," squeaked Chirp. "And by the way, nice flight."
Hubba Hubba made an aloof about-face hop on the window sill, but he was beaming at the compliment. He fluffed up and preened here and there and then gave himself a thorough 5238538447_ef45b254a9shake. When he smoothed down his plumage, he discovered that his black feathers had already gotten quite warm in the sun. He basked, letting his mind wander to pleasant images of Pebbles. After a good long spell in the mesmerizing warmth, he even fancied he saw her in a nearby apple tree. It was almost as though he heard her say: "I love you. C'mere." It was so real that he found himself out the window, winging towards the apple tree. "My!" he said, coming to his wits. "I guess there's nothing for it but to see if I can actually make it to that tree." It was nearly a furlong away, but it was a downhill glide from Razzmorten's tower, and he dutifully flapped his wings the whole distance. The next thing he knew, he was landing on a broad limb right beside the very love of his life. This was no daydream at all.
Pebbles however, was not charmed by his arrival. She fluffed up as huge as possible and shrank her pupils to pinholes, making her eyes fiery red. "Bad boy! Bad boy!" she called out, madly wheeling and strutting back and forth. "Minuet! Minuet! Please get rid of this bad boy!"
"Hubba Hubba!" cried Minuet, as she looked up from her chair in the shade. "You can fly again. Wonderful! Come down here and see me. Pay no mind to Pebbles. She's just being a brat."
Just then, he looked beyond Minuet into the courtyard and saw a personage who made him go apoplectically faint. She was sitting calmly with two strangers and King Hebraun. "What are you doing here, Ugleeuh?" he croaked, as his heart pounded in his chest. By now everyone was looking right at him, and he shrank back into the leaves.
"Is this filthy bird yours?" cried Ugleeuh, spitting with scorn as she sprang to her feet. "And how dare he call me ugly! You should have him destroyed this minute." The two strangers rushed to her at once, attempting to soothe her.
This was too much for Hubba Hubba. "Help! Help! Help!" he cawed as he leaped into the air, flapping madly for Razzmorten's tower. He had no problem making straight for the window, but loft was a poser. He thought his heart and lungs were both going to burst before he got far enough up to fly in. He banged his keel painfully on the sill, sending him inside in a tumble of feathers to smack into his perch, knocking it over with a crash before skittering to a sliding halt on the tabletop. Razzmorten burst into the room, quite wide eyed.
"Sorry for the mess, Wiz," croaked Hubba Hubba, as he heaved and gasped for wind. "But Ugleeuh's down there in the garden with the king and queen and a couple of strangers. There's no telling what she came here for, but you know it ain't good. And now
that she's seen me, she wants me destroyed. That's what chased me back in through the
window. Man! My keel bone hurts. Can't you get her with some kind of wizard fire from
the window here 'fore she does something terrible?"
Razzmorten scratched his head thoughtfully, then ambled over to the window and gazed out for long enough to exasperate Hubba Hubba. When he turned around, he was smiling. Hubba Hubba felt a scald of fear rush through this chest, convinced for the moment that Razzmorten had been smitten with a bewitchment by his evil daughter. As the urge seized him to fly back out the window and escape into the countryside, a meaty thump from Fifi's tail on the floor beside the table completely shattered his resolve. He looked from dog to window and back again, utterly befuddled. At the sight of Razzmorten mildly taking a seat at the table to patiently wait for the arrival of his composure, he opened up his feathers completely, hesitated, then shook himself resolutely and sleeked down. "All right, all right, Wiz!" he said. "I'm ready. End my confusion. Hey! This is real anxiety I'm suffering from, don't you know."
"The young woman out there does indeed look like the very picture of Ugleeuh, years ago," said Razzmorten, not smiling at Hubba Hubba's consternation. "She looks enough like Ugleeuh to be her twin, removed in time. Even her behavior, they act alike. In fact, I was so taken by this that I went to great pains to determine if she wasn't under some divination, some spell to condemn her to a life as Ugleeuh's echo, but I found no such spell. She truly seems to be one of those once in a millennium coincidences. She's Princess Spitemorta of Goll. She's come here with her parents in hopes of making an alliance marriage with Lukus to unite Niarg and their realm. You've no reason to fear anything."
"Maybe we have another coincidence here, Wiz. This girl said she wanted me destroyed, remember? Why would some total stranger do that? Hey, I'm a bird! Threats to my life leave a lasting impression, and her impression feels just like Ugleeuh. That's my reason."
"You don't deserve to be so upset. Why don't I just go down there and see what's going on? Would that ease your mind?"The_Collector_Witch_Cover_for_Kindle
Hubba Hubba looked very doubtful, but Razzmorten was already on his way out the door. "Wiz!" he cawed out. "Be careful! And hey, take Miss Toothyface, here, why don't you?"
"I'm sure I can handle it myself," said Razzmorten, tossing back a wide-eyed smile as the door went closed.

Monday, November 9, 2015

Ceidwad the Diatryma Reads Wizard Razzmorten's Comatose Mind


Without a word, Arwr, Lladdwr and Ceidwad sped away, pat, pat, patting over the leaves with Tors galloping furiously to keep up. Arwr lead them single file along the beginnings of a creek that was soon flanked with rock outcroppings which before long formed a deep hollow. Without the slightest hesitation to puzzle over landmarks, he took them directly to the foot of a huge sheer faced bluff of slate grey rocks which formed an overhang several rods long. At the back of the overhang a small cave ran in under the rock. In short order they had Razzmorten and Mary laid out on pallets of leaves.
Lukus knelt by Razzmorten and laid his hand on the old fellow's forehead. He closed his eyes and quickly set about calming himself as he had been taught in order to readyFotolia_74796694_Subscription_Monthly_M CROPHEAD his magical energies to flow into his grandfather. He let these drain away until he began feeling the inevitable exhaustion which signaled where he must stop. He had no choice now but to rest before going any further. He opened his eyes and studied Razzmorten for any sign of success. He shook his head in weary dismay as he looked up at the hopeful faces gathered 'round him.
"I see no change at all," he said. "I'll have to eat and rest a bit, before I can try again." He stood up on wobbly legs and clenched his teeth. "I can find nothing wrong with him at all. I wish I could read his mind. Then he could tell me what's wrong."
"I can do that for you," said Ceidwad, lowering her head to peer into the cave.
"You diatrymas read minds?" he said, suddenly thinking about what she was saying.
"But why didn't you say so long before now?" he said before realizing that he just might sound as though he were making accusations.
"It wasn't possible with us fleeing for our lives," she said solemnly. "Mind to mind contact 4F14BB4B9with one who is unconscious is delicate business. It takes time and it's always best
to see if the unconsciousness one will come around on his own."
"Why? said Lukus. "Is it dangerous?"
"Not done right, no."
"So you have a certain expertise?" he said, glancing at Rose.
"I'd not attempt such a thing without being confident. Of course, I'll only proceed if you wish."
Lukus looked at Rose. She turned aside to Fuzz and Myrtlbell who each nodded encouragingly.
"Please do, Ceidwad," said Lukus. "We'll never know unless you do."
"Then please carry him to the mouth of the cave," she said, "we never go inside."
As soon as they got him moved, she slowly settled onto her keel, fluffed her feathers and gently laid her huge ebony beak across his forehead. After shifting her head a little, this way and that, she blinked a couple of times and then closed her eyes. Hubba Hubba leant so far forward on Rose's shoulder while watching that he tumbled off and landed on the cave floor with a feathery plop. Pebbles flew down beside him as he picked himself up and gave a shake of his feathers. Taflu snickered, but sobered at once at a look from Fuzz.
images"Do all diatrymas read minds, Lladdwr?" whispered Rose.
"Generally only the hens amongst us," he said softly. "They listen in on the dreams of our eggs and thereafter they keep track of the chicks in dead silence in the face of danger and while they forage."
"Then her mind reading won't heal?"
"I'm afraid it doesn't, at least nothing beyond the reassurance it gives. But Ceidwad will be able to tell you what ails them and find out what needs to be done."
At last, Ceidwad stood up and turned to face everyone, singling out Rose and Lukus.
"Your grandfather will survive and will indeed wake up in due time," she said, "but I've no idea at all how long that will be. Those bolts from the sorceresses were much like lightening. If one is struck by lightening, he either dies right then and there or he's left in a coma for who knows how long. Could be just a few hours; could be days. They got big jolts. Your Grandfather believes that they are both very lucky to have survived. They should be dead. In fact, he wonders if Demonica and Spitemorta deliberately let them live for some reason. So there's no damage, but I'd allow that he'll be asleep for some time to come."
"Oh thank you!" said Rose, as she hugged Ceidwad, muffling a sob in her fluffy neck feathers "You've spared us so much worry."
Ceidwad rattled her beak through Rose's hair as Hubba Hubba hopped onto Razzmorten's chest and walked up his beard to point one eye at his face. He stood there for a moment, then trotted back down his beard and flew to Lukus's shoulder. "He doesn't look any different at all, Lukus."
"I'm not worried now," said Lukus as he scratched Hubba Hubba's head. "Two very wise birds have just told us he'll recover, so I know he will."Stone_Heart_Cover_for_Kindle
"Righty-o!" he said with a proud flap of his wings and a whistle. He shook his feathers. "Now you're catching on."
"Absolutely," said Lukus.
Ch. 19, Stone Heart  (Click on Title or book image to download FREE from Amazon)

Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps