'The first lines define three moments in time..' - Charnel
At first, all is darkness, impenetrable, immeasurable.
All is silent, vacuous emptiness.
We see nothing, hear nothing, are nothing.
Time passes here, but we are unaware of it.
And then, suddenly there is light.
It begins as a single point of piercing brightness, but rapidly expands.
Silver, and violet, and streaming, it races outwards in all directions to fill the emptiness.
For us, the advent of the light brings awareness, though only dimly, for now there is something, and we are
a part of it. With this fledgling consciousness, the passing of time becomes apparent to us, as well. Now
there is a present.
As the light becomes more intense with every passing second, it begins to reveal a sea of wildly writhing
forms- vestigial potentials without true distinction, they are the archetypes of all that can or will be.
Now something has become many things, and we are only one of them.
Little more than archetypes, ourselves, we yet have no true identity.
Consciousness desperately accumulates about these dim forms, evolving with them, becoming even as they
become. Time, too, is becoming. There is now a past, a present, and a future. We can distinguish the past
from the present because we have now been and are, and as our consciousness continues to evolve, we
develop a sense for the future.
With it comes the first trace of individuality.
We are almost whole, and along with us, its development parallel to our own, a whole world is resolving
into recognizable shapes. Spontaneous diversification of form is slowly giving way to order.
There is now earth beneath our feet. There are trees and flowers, mountains and streams. And overhead, in a
cloudless sky, the purple and silver light has retracted and resolved as well, becoming two great luminous
spheres.
We have pierced the barrier. We have arrived in the Misamee. We know this, even as we know that this is a
Dream, a True Dream..
Quickly we discern that we are not alone here. There are others all around us, some of them dreamers like
ourselves, some of them the spirits of those who have passed from among the living, some possessed of
powers and secrets which have granted them access to these strange shores, and some of them indigenous to
the same. We know that the latter are known as the Shadur.
We also know that amongst these people, these Shadur, it is traditionally said that "all things begin at the
center."
Life, death, love, hate, war, peace- all things can be traced back to a common point or focus, a kind of
divine singularity where all things are reconciled as one. It is said that time itself adheres to this rule, for it
too unfolds from the center of this moment, from the present, to become both the past and the future.
There is even a prophecy amongst the Shadur that proclaims that the end of all things will begin at the
center, coming as it were, from within. But that remains to be seen. And perhaps, if our Dream lasts long
enough, we will see...
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Chapter One-
...And there within the fortress
Of my fear and pain and pride
There in the empty silence
Where even my dreams had died
I reached into that cold blue fire,
And I felt your hand in mine... - Philo
Jubee watched as the gulls wheeled in dancing clouds, like tiny white gems freckling the raging surf far
below. Their cries were lost to the distance and to the dull rumble of water against stone. She considered
their microscopic uniformity with admiration.
To have wings, she thought..... to fly and fly until you broke free from the earth forever, until you could
reach out and touch the face of the spheres.....
If I could, I would leap out into the open air right now, right from my perch here, and waltz away into
space.
Placing her elbows on the soft grass at the crest of the cliff, she turned her face upwards into the fading light
and looked out over the gloaming with lids half shut, trying to see the gradual decent of the two great
luminous balls where they touched the horizon, their fading purple and silver light bathing the sea in
unearthly hues.
The Split Spheres... like the embers of dying suns, now, softened by the approach of night but opulent still,
warm and beautiful. Their light was a caress as gentle as a summer breeze, and she swore she could smell it,
like the sweetness of lotus blossoms, could fill her lungs with its radiant sustenance and never need for
another breath.
Behind her, restrained yet by the early hour, a menagerie of stars bustled impatiently in the burgeoning
darkness- silver frost on the edge of eternity, a paint-brush stroke of hazy blue nebulosity. Soon they would
own the sky.
How gentle, how reassuring the last moments of the day. How perfect, to be surrounded by such harmony of
motion.
“I love it here, Philo.” This as little more than a whisper.
Without turning to look, Jubee knew that Philo was smiling. She closed her eyes and let the vision of that
smile fill her mind. It was, more than anything, a smile of the eyes, of deeply golden, amber eyes so full of
life that they glowed with the passion of it, unable to contain it. No, it spilled out from her gaze into the rest
of her face, warming her strong cheeks and full lips with fire. This was the face of love, she thought, framed
by a tremulous energy, and by the short, straight, raven's wing tassel of her hair. The face of a goddess-
unpresuming and intimate, powerful and poetic.
“What have I done to deserve this? Is this heaven?”
“Maybe it is.”
Even her voice was music: soft and melodic. Angels spoke with such voices, didn’t they?
Next to Jubee, Philo sat relaxed amid a glaze of tiny white flowers, still watching the last few seconds of the
setting of the Split Spheres, intent upon them, waiting for them to be drawn at last beyond her view by the
sweeping arc of their orbit. She was indeed smiling, even as Jubee imagined, her eyes alight with the dusk
and with a native fire all their own. But upon her face were the silver trails of two small tears. She wiped
them away, blinking as the final moment approached.
And out over the surf, over immeasurable distances of dark racing depths, and gulfs of silent space, the
spheres were relinquishing their lordship over the heavens, the thinnest sliver of them now no more than a
metallic arch in the smooth line of the horizon.
Philo held her breath, captivated. Now was the time to say goodbye, to send prayers racing over the miles to
speed the day on its way, for the course of the night was set and nothing could turn it back.
There is almost nothing more holy than this, she thought. No moment more perfectly defines us- the fleeting
and irretrievable beauty of it, which cannot be summoned by any will nor renewed save in the proper
course of time... the edge of night and day.
And now, nothing but the blank velvet of empty sky there in the west.
Turning to where Jubee lay, her head still back, lifted towards the heavens, eyes still closed, Philo reached
out a hand and gently caressed the face of the woman beside her, allowing her fingers to trace the soft curve
of her jaw line, down to her neck and back into her short, unruly blonde hair. Jubee turned to look at her,
opening her large, innocent, earth brown eyes, and smiled back at her.
Looking into those eyes, Philo felt a gentle pang, not of regret, but of love... and of fear.
And you are real, she thought to herself. Even if nothing else is, you are real, and you are here, with me.
Nothing else is important. She wanted so much to believe it, all of it.
“Come on, we should get back," she said.
It was their habit, each evening, to make this short sojourn to the cliffs so that they could watch the day
come to its end. It was a ritual of closure and of peace, a time of togetherness. And when they had witnessed
the changing of the guard, as it were, it was time for them, too, to retire.
The path that lead them back home was well worn and easy enough to follow, even in star-freckled
darkness, but as the dense purple light of dusk finally succumbed to the encroaching night, Philo, with a
casual wave of her right hand, produced two small balls of soft white light and set them dancing in the air
just ahead.
Jubee smiled at the careless ease with which Philo worked these little feats of magic, feats which were, for
her, no more miraculous than breathing or blinking.
Noticing the smile, Philo returned it coyly, and sent the tiny white spheres racing haphazardly through the
air around the other woman's head, each of them leaving trails of sparkling, ephemeral glitter in their wakes.
Jubee's laughter was full of wonder. It always was- even when she had seen this same trick a thousand
times. She was so alive, so full of curiosity and energy, so appreciative of beauty, even in the smallest and
most trivial of things. She was, Philo reflected, a thing of beauty herself.
"You could do that too, you know, if you tried."
Jubee winked at her in reply, but said nothing. Philo had told her this many times, but she had never
believed it. In private she had even tested the theory, but to no avail. She felt sure that she herself had
nothing of Philo's gift, but it really concerned her very little. She had skills of her own.
As they walked, the two lost themselves in conversation, musing over the day's efforts, the day to come,
the stars, and the forest that bordered the path. Nothing of any real importance was said and it would have
been as easy, as fulfilling, to simply share the silence, but each delighted in the sound of the other's voice,
and there would be time, later, for the intimacy that only the gentle beating of hearts can express. There
would be time for silence and for dreams.
Cresting the last gentle hill a short time later, they saw their destination and both paused for a moment to
regard it before continuing.
Before them, in a small valley bordered by forest on all sides, stood an ancient six-sided structure which had
once been a Temple to some now forgotten god. Even from afar one could see that though its current state
was somewhat dilapidated, it still possessed something of its original dignity, as if its patron spirit remained
and doted over it even if its worshippers no longer devoted themselves to its tending.
The roof of the building was shingled with heavy overlapping plates of adobe, many of which were missing,
and was tapered to a point at its center, its eaves reaching out like spokes to end in a covered porch that
circumscribed the whole. Though in disrepair, it would clearly keep the elements out.
There was a great arched doorway on the building's eastern side and one in the west, and each of the other
four walls contained a single, large oval window. These windows were often covered from the inside during
the day in order to keep the interior cool. They were clear now, though, and as the two at last resumed their
course and drew near the structure, dozens of candles inside all caught and poured forth their golden beams
as if in welcome, so that the Temple and its surroundings seemed bathed in a honey sweet warmth.
Jubee reached the steps leading to the porch first and lithely ascended them. The doors opened for her as
she neared them, and she disappeared into the flickering candlelight. As Philo followed her inside, the doors
closed behind her.
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Silence, finally, and stillness. The only sounds: the unobtrusive rhythms of breath and heart. The candle
light no longer flickered, and as if to further insulate and dampen the atmosphere, the chill blackness which
had only pressed longingly at the windows before now cascaded into every corner and crease, sealing out
the visible world as if covetous of its distractions.
Philo lay still, her arms enfolding Jubee almost protectively, driven by some instinct that required the
contact to ensure that she still existed, to ensure that she didn’t slip away like a willow-the-wisp, a dream, or
some errant verse of new and unfettered poetry, lost as quickly as the flash of inspiration that birthed it.
Jubee was already asleep. It was the very signature of her innocence which made possible this sudden and
careless loss of consciousness. If Philo was there, holding her, she had no apprehensions. Rarely did she
even dream. Hers was the peaceful solitude of uninterrupted oblivion.
Philo envied her in all of these regards. Her body longed for rest, but she feared to relinquish herself to what
almost certainly awaited her on the other side of the wall of sleep. Never the less, despite her reticence it
was not long in coming, and, at last, lulled by the sound of crickets outside, and by the warmth and nearness
of her love, she crumbled beneath the assault of her somnolence, and without evening knowing it, she
crossed the boarder into the unknown.
Only three hours later she was sitting on the eastern steps of the Temple, seemingly looking out into the
woods, into the shadows there. But it was what was she saw with her mind’s eye which held her:
A darkness, spinning outwards from the center of all things….the earth splitting open… the skies scorched,
vomiting fire…destruction and ruin.
He has awoken.
Her thoughts were a vicious morass of uncentered chaos, but she was detached even from them, hovering
between worlds and heedless of her surroundings, both within and without. It was in this state that Jubee
discovered her, as she had so many times before and with ever increasing frequency.
Jubee sat down beside the other woman, but did so quietly and made no move which might startle her
companion. Soon enough, Philo would return from whatever shores she now explored and when she did,
she would almost certainly expect to find Jubee there at her side.
And indeed, when the first signs of life and awareness tentatively returned to Philo, Jubee spoke, her usually
soft voice softer still.
"Was it the dreams again?"
She knew it was. But it was all she knew. Philo had conceded that her sleep was troubled months before, but
had never said more than this regarding the dreams that plagued her. Jubee didn’t press her for details. If
they were to be forthcoming, she knew, it would only be when Philo was prepared, when she could
articulate what she felt, when, perhaps, she felt that she understood the dreams better. It was her way with
all things. She was meticulous and careful, and often these traits were to her credit.
"Yes. Worse this time." The reply was almost too quiet to hear, almost lost in the lullaby of the breeze, the
creaking branches, and insect song. It said more in tone of her weariness than the words themselves could
hope to convey.
Again silence fell between them, but now it seemed almost intrusive. Jubee wished for words of
consolation, wished for something to say that would banish the shadows as Philo's magik always seemed
able to do. But she could think of nothing, and her heart ached with the inadequacy she felt.
Philo too wished that there were words to fill the space between them, but she was too afraid to search for
them, too afraid that if she found them and spoke them, they would break some barrier deep within her and
that both she and Jubee would be engulfed and swept away by the resulting tide.
From whence came these fears and the certainty with which they checked her confidence, Philo did not
know. For the present though, ignorance seemed the best defense, and love the best consolation. So,
wordlessly, she turned and kissed Jubee, and taking her by the arm she lead her back to bed where they
awaited the rising of the Spheres, together comforted by nearness and the knowledge that there were some
things which didn’t need to be said.
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Early on the following morning, Philo woke Jubee and told her to dress for a trip to Danbooth.
Such a journey was not uncommon, for they often went simply to acquire such supplies as they needed, and
from time to time Philo was called to perform some act of healing. There had been no trip planned for this
day, however, and Jubee was puzzled.
Sensing her distraction, Philo replied before Jubee could articulate her curiosity.
"There is a messenger coming this morning. Something is going on. I'm not sure what it is, but I believe
we're expected by the council of elders. Its just a feeling."
"Something serious?" Jubee asked as she slipped into her clothes and put on her sandals.
There was a moment of hesitation, just long enough to be noticed. Philo was considering her response.
"I think so."
She sounded concerned, though it was clear she was trying not to. If she knew that there was a messenger
coming, even before signs of his approach could be gleaned by natural means, Jubee knew that whatever
was at hand was not entirely unexpected.
"Philo, what’s wrong? You're worrying me, love."
"I'm sorry... I know. I don't mean to. I could be wrong. It might be nothing. I just know someone is coming,
and they aren’t bringing an offering. I think we should be prepared in case we're needed. Why don’t you
bring the packs, and we’ll pick a few things up while in the village."
Jubee nodded, and disappeared into the back of the Temple to refresh herself. She returned a few minutes
later looking substantially more alert. She also had a look of determination about her - something Philo had
learned to appreciate from experience. Whenever that cloud stole over her features, it meant that Jubee was
privately steeling herself to act upon some resolve. Philo looked away, waiting for her to speak.
"You know I don't want to pry. You know I respect you. I love you. But..."
"I know. You want me to tell you about the dreams."
"Yes." One word, full of so much relief.
"I'm almost ready. I think... I think there’s something coming, Jubee. I think we're on the edge of it right
now. Before the day is over, I may be able to tell you more. Please, be patient with me. You always have
been. You're my Angel. You know that."
Jubee simply nodded, though Philo still wasn't looking at her.
Philo wasn't finished though.
"There are a lot of things we need to talk about, Jubee. Important things that we've needed to talk about for
a long time. I want you to try to be ready. And I want you to have faith in me.'
"Always."
“Let’s have something to eat before we go. I think we have a long day before us.”
Nodding, Jubee turned back into the Temple and set to preparing a small repast for the both of them.
A short time later, while Philo and Jubee were sitting on the Temple steps, finishing with their breakfast, the
messenger arrived just as Philo had predicted.
He was a young man, clearly an indigenous Shadur- tall, thin, dark of hair, with large black eyes and taut
brown skin. He was dressed lightly, for the weather was warm, and it was easy to tell that he had traveled as
quickly as possible from Danbooth to the Temple.
He was also clearly surprised to find Philo and Jubee both obviously waiting for him and outfitted for the
return trip. Identifying himself only as Randolf, he immediately dispensed his message.
As expected, a summons for their presence had been issued by the elders of Danbooth, and, Randolf
hastened to add, the matter was one of urgency.
The villagers of Danbooth were endeared to Philo and Jubee in a subtle way, their awe where Philo was
concerned keeping them at a distance despite friendly relations. For most of the village's people Philo was
as mysterious as the god who’s Temple she inhabited might have been to its original worshippers.
Powerful and aloof, she commanded respect without effort, and the local people gave it unswervingly.
Their relationship was symbiotic after a fashion. Philo’s talents were sometimes exercised on behalf of the
villagers, and in return for her efforts, for acts of healing and for other simple feats, she and Jubee were
presented with offerings, often delivered anonymously in the night, which accommodated for a small but
welcome portion of their needs.
On their visits to Danbooth they were also given deference in trade with the local merchants, who often
treated them to lower fares and goods of higher quality than they might otherwise have expected. However,
it was most often the very young and the very old who greeted them most directly and with the greatest
openness, the former because it was in their nature, the latter because they could sense Philo's inherent
goodness, and, perhaps, Jubee's innate innocence.
Jubee could see that the young man's nervousness was not merely due to his reverence for Philo, however,
and his uneasy demeanor concerned her. She was certain that it was due, in part, to what little he knew
about his errand here. On this matter, however, there was to be little further explanation, for he was reticent
to speak beyond his charge, and all that could be gleaned was that there was no one in Danbooth whose life
would be threatened by a brief delay.
Never the less, he refused to be dispatched back to the village without them, and so Philo did her best to
assure him that she understood the urgency of the summons and insisted that he rest and refresh himself
while she and Jubee finished their meal. Immediately thereafter they would depart.
Seemingly satisfied, Randolf drank from the water skin he was proffered and sat down a few feet away from
the two women, silently waiting for them to communicate their intention to follow him.
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Though they made good time, it took them a little over two hours to make the journey to Danbooth.
The mountain formed a long, narrow prominence with sheer cliffs to the north, south, and west; the
travelers threaded their way to the east,then worked their way west to the coastal village.
All of them traveled, for the most part, in silence.
The path down the mountain was heavily wooded, and beneath the canopy, the bright light of the split
spheres was filtered and transformed into shifting constellations of gold and patchwork puzzles of ebony
shadow. Like ashes and embers, Jubee thought.
Beneath her feet, generations of fallen leaves made the floor of the forest soft and springy.
For Jubee the walk seemed to last an eternity, for there was much weighing on her mind. Though life with
Philo was rewarding, she mused, it could also be frustrating and filled with uncertainty at times.
Philo, though unusually quiet, seemed somehow less perturbed. She was difficult to read on the surface,
even for Jubee, but she seemed more relaxed than she had while they had been waiting for the messenger.
Perhaps it had eased her mind to know that there had not been an accident or some other emergency in
Danbooth- that the summons which had been delivered, mysterious though it was, did not seem to indicate
immediate calamity. And it was possible, Jubee thought, that whatever sense it was that had forewarned
Philo may have brought her some other subtle sign of what was to come.
Full of questions and concerns though she was, Jubee held her tongue and consoled herself with the
knowledge that soon enough all would be revealed, one way or the other.
Finally, they made the last turn in the path, and ahead of them the forest divided and opened, revealing the
village, and beyond it, the sea.
Jubee smiled as she caught sight of their destination, not alone because it meant the end of the journey, but
also because she always took great pleasure in this view and in the invigorating freshness of the whole
atmosphere here closer to the coast. Perhaps it was the contrast of the open fields and the sparkle of the
waves, but the sky always seemed bluer. The air held a wonderful variety of smells, too- farmed earth, rich
and black, and, though they were perhaps a mile from the shore yet, the cool, salty air from the sea which
carried with it a tang that one could almost taste.
And then there was the village itself. Danbooth was a small, tightly knit community of well-tended homes,
clean, narrow, cobbled alley-ways, and bright mercantile fronts which lined its wider central avenue. From
afar it presented a general atmosphere of steadfastness which was upheld by the over-all condition of its
stolid structures and, upon closer inspection, by its hearty and usually cheerful populace.
The outer rim of the village, on the side nearest the forest, was devoted to agriculture, and so, as the
travelers drew nearer and broke free of the forest trail, they were soon surrounded by a patch-work quilt of
pastures full of undulating grasses and peacefully grazing livestock on the one hand and, separated from
them by fences, neat rows of tilled earth, occasionally planted with a variety of healthy crops, on the other.
Even from afar, it was easy to see that the real life’s-breath of the village was the sea, though. Located in a
large natural cove, much of its daily life centered around its peers, from which many fishing boats
continually came and went.
Periodically, there also came the larger trading vessels, bringing wares from other villages and from the
islands to the north and south and taking with them the cargo of local goods which were the currency and
sustenance of life in Danbooth.
Looking out over the roofs towards those piers, Jubee could see that there was one such vessel at anchor in
the harbor now, a great dark ship, its masts piercing the sky like swords. She hoped that circumstances
would not prove as serious as they seemed, and that, perhaps, before returning to the Temple, she might
convince Philo to visit the wharves so that she could get a better look at that ship.
Philo also saw the ship, and though she could not be certain why, she felt sure that it had something to do
with their presence.
For now though, their journey was carrying them into the village proper, towards its busy heart, and Jubee
guessed, given the nature of the summons, that in all likelihood their final destination would be the Meeting
Hall, the structure which housed the local seat of government. Because the land sloped downward towards
the sea, she could look out over the roofs of the village from her vantage near its edges and see that
structure and those which stood around it with ease, despite the distance.
Philo and Jubee had visited the Meeting Hall on a few occasions in the past, and Jubee had always been
impressed by its solemn austerity. While not unattractive, the building was largely functional in design and
seemed to emanate a sense of authority which she had always thought well in keeping with its purpose. Here
the village elders met; here occasional trials were held and disputes settled; here the community came to
voice its collective concerns. It also housed Danbooth’s library- a collection of thousands of books on
virtually every imaginable subject, from law to engineering, chemistry, and astronomy, all crammed into
shelves which lined the walls of the second floor to a height of 8 feet all the way around the structure.
Oriented such that its front faced southward, the building was long and narrow, though still twice as wide as
most of its neighboring structures. It was also the only two-story structure on the whole of the main
thoroughfare. It was built almost entirely of dark wood from the local forests, and like so many of the other
buildings (with the exception of the more extravagant and eye catching mercantile establishments) and
houses in Danbooth, had never known a coat of paint. It therefore possessed a certain organic quality, as if
it had been grown or cut from a single magnificent tree trunk, and this effect was further accentuated by the
general weathering of many years and many storms from the sea.
All along the sides of the Meeting Hall’s outer walls, at even intervals near the rim of the roof, there were
small heavily paned windows of deep-set glass, from which came a strong and steady stream of warmly
tinted natural light during the entirety of the day. At certain times, when the Split Spheres were positioned
just so, the inside of the Hall swam with radiance, the beams of light glinting off of a million dancing dust
motes in the air. At such times, the venerable Main Chamber seemed a tiny virgin cosmos, the brilliance of
its fiery creation still clinging to it as spiraling wisps and embers.
Two massive, ornately carved wooden doors, each no less than 12 feet in height were recessed slightly into
the face of the building. Though they seemed imposing, they opened with the greatest of ease to admit those
who sought the strength and wisdom of the establishment.
Finally, after a pleasant stroll through the streets of the village and down its central avenue, and after many
brief and friendly encounters with its inhabitants, all of whom seemed surprised to see the visitors, Philo,
Jubee, and Randolph arrived before those doors, and without ceremony, pushed them aside and entered.
Randolph deferred to his charges and followed them in.
Beyond the immediate entrance hall, which was itself impressively cavernous, there was a second set of
doors, and beyond these the Meeting Hall opened up at last, revealing first a set of stairs on either side.
These led to the second floor, which was little more than an extremely wide balcony circumnavigating the
entire building so that the ceiling of the main chamber was high and vaulted.
The main chamber itself resembled a court-room or a church. From one end to the other were dual rows of
benches, all separated by a wide central lane and all facing the northern wall. There, at the far end, rested
the 12 Council seats which were raised upon a massive semi-circular dais and situated such that they formed
an arc with a large open space before them. Both the seats and the space were occupied, the former by the
full council, the latter by what appeared to be a large statue.
Taking stock of the room and its contents, Philo and Jubee noticed that, in addition to the council, the
chamber contained a small contingent of other men, some of whom must have been foreign sea-farers, if
their clothing and demeanor were any indication.
In all likelihood, Jubee thought to herself, they have come ashore from the ship I noticed earlier..
At their entrance a hush had fallen amongst all of these people, replacing what had sounded like a lively
debate, and now all eyes were quite conspicuously upon the two women as they made their way down the
central aisle towards the dais, the crowd, and the statue.
As they approached, Jubee’s attention was drawn away from group of men by the statue, and the more she
saw of it, the more she was amazed by its workmanship. She couldn't determine what it was made out of,
but it didn't appear to be stone. Instead, it had a glossy, porous texture, redolent almost of baked mud.
The eidolon described a human figure in a sitting position, lotus-style, hands in lap, its serene androgynous
face placid and unemotive, its eyes open, its sightless stare cold and distant. A loose robe flowed from its
shoulders over its ample form, and this and the sandals on its feet were the only garb it wore, they too being
carved from the same mysterious substance as the fleshy countenance and fingers.
Somehow, despite the simple elegance of its design, or perhaps because of it, the thing seemed organic,
almost alive. Its silence and stillness were belied by a strange, palpable sense of awareness. It was a
disconcerting work of art, to say the least.
Even in its reposing posture the statue was at least 8 feet tall, making it imposingly larger than life, but it
was in this regard alone that the statue differed from the living flesh.
Painted on its forehead was a small circular symbol which appeared to be more than ornamental, but though
it seemed somehow familiar Jubee could not guess its meaning.
Both Philo and Jubee were impressed by it, and by the effort it must have taken to bring it to its current
resting place. Had the doors of the Meeting Hall been any smaller, Jubee mused, it would not have been
possible to bring it inside at all.
When Philo reached the base of dais, she stopped, in traditional deferral to the men who occupied it, and,
standing only feet from the statue which she could now see rested upon the partial remains of a sturdy
crate, she appraised the whole thing momentarily.
She then turned to the elders and addressed them.
Jubee, standing at her side, could not take her eyes from the statue. What was it doing here? Did it have
something to do with the summons? She listened as Philo spoke.
"Council members, we have come in answer to your summons." She bowed slightly, and said nothing more.
"Yes, thank you, Philo, and thank you as well, Jubee." The reply came from the center seat, which was
occupied by a man who was visibly the oldest member of the council. Jubee knew his name to be Teron. His
voice, though strong, was as venerable and cracked as his face.
"On behalf of the council, please accept my apology for the intrusion,” he continued.
Philo turned her head slightly, once more inclining it towards the statue. "There is no need for an apology.
But if there was, I am sure it would befit us to proffer it. This, I assume, is the reason we were summoned?"
Someone coughed, and the silence that followed was brief but awkward. It was once again broken by Teron.
"Yes, it is. When the Calvor, the ship which entered our harbor this morning, docked, the men on board
brought this ashore almost immediately, carried it through the streets to our door, and insisted that you be
brought here, saying that it was meant for you."
The expression on Philo's face did not change at all. She seemed merely to absorb these words as if she had
half expected them.
Jubee was shocked, but continued listening.
"We thought it best and easiest to bring you here, rather than trying to take it to the Temple."
Pausing, meaningfully, he then added, "The men who brought it would go no farther than the Meeting Hall
with it, anyway. They seemed rather glad to be rid of it."
At this, the men in question expressed their consensus unabashedly, but Jubee noted that for all of this, they
had remained behind after their delivery was completed. They were clearly curious about the statue, even if
they were glad that it was no longer in their custody.
Clearing his throat, Teron concluded, "Though I cannot say why, I do not blame them. It is an uncanny
thing, and I have certainly never seen its like. We hoped that you would know what it was and what to do
with it."
Philo smiled and nodded. "I believe it is a message. A message for myself and for Jubee."
Then, before the questions that her own words begged could be voiced, she spoke again, addressing the men
from the Calvor.
"Do you know where this originated?
A general murmur arose at this, but one man stepped forward and spoke above the others.
"We are a trading vessel. Our usual route takes us back and forth between Kahleen on the river Tyh'Ir and
the islands and ports along the coast just North of here. The statue came to us in Kahleen where we were
paid handsomely to deliver it, specifically, to Philo of Danbooth. We were told that you were well known
here and that we would have no trouble finding you, so upon arrival we inquired and were informed that
you could be summoned by the Council of Elders. And here you are, and here.. it is." The man gestured to
the statue with a wave of his hand which somehow bespoke distaste.
"The man who commissioned us in the matter is well known to us, but he did not say how the cargo came to
him. For our own part, we ourselves did not even know what we were transporting until the crate was
opened here. It was sealed with great care and we were instructed not to tamper with it. Indeed, even when
out of sight, the thing made everyone on the Calvor uneasy, such that no one was tempted in the least by the
mystery of it, and as, begging your pardon sir, the elder gentleman has already said, we aren't unhappy to
see it delivered and done with. It is only open now because our instructions dictated that, if possible, it be so
prepared for your arrival."
Philo smiled at the man, her eloquence complete, and asked, "What is your name?"
The man was clearly taken aback by the question, or perhaps by its delivery, but gave his name simply as
Saul, First Mate of Her Lady Calvor.
"The captain stayed on board then, Saul?"
"Yes." He offered no further explanation, and Philo requested none.
"Then I thank you for your efforts, and I would ask you to extend my thanks to him. You say you have been
paid?"
"Yes'm, handsomely. More than enough for the stop, though, truth be told, we welcome the opportunity to
visit Danbooth as we've wares to trade before we leave, anyway. Twasn't any trouble, really."
And shaking his head, as if to say, "that is, other than the thing itself," he stepped back amongst his
comrades and said no more. But neither did he move to leave. He and his men wanted to know what the
meaning of all of this was, and Jubee couldn't blame them for that either.
Philo wasn't finished with him though.
"Saul, I will need your help again within the hour, if you and your men are willing. I will pay you for the
trouble, and it won't take long."
She gestured to the statue, "This can't stay here. We won't have to move it far, though."
Saul simply nodded. "I think we can manage, M'lady. And there is no need to pay us."
"I thank you again."
Now Philo took one more step towards the dais, and making eye contact with each of the Elders, she
addressed them.
"As I said, it is likely I who should apologize for the intrusion. I have had reason, of late, to expect a sign or
a message, but I scarcely knew it would come in such a form. I assure you that it will not trouble the
Council or the Hall for long. But if I may, I have a request to make which will seem a bit odd. I hope that
you can find it in your hearts to accommodate me."
This time it was Cirrus, to the left of Teron and two seats down, who spoke,
"Philo, you are the jewel of Danbooth. We will do whatever we may for you. Only ask." Cirrus was known
for speaking out of turn, but no one corrected or contradicted him this time.
Philo smiled again, and Jubee, inspired by the radiance of that smile, joined her.
"Then I would ask that Jubee and I be left with the statue, alone in the Hall, until we can ascertain the nature
of the message."
Everyone, Jubee included, was shocked by this, and once again the murmuring arose.
Philo didn’t wait for it to die down or for Teron to bring it to an end.
"I am sorry, not alone for the inconvenience and impropriety of asking you to vacate your seats, but also for
failing, so far, to assuage your curiosity." and here she gazed at the crewmen of the Calvor as well,
indicating that she included them in her apology. "But a message delivered in such a way is a very powerful
thing. Indeed, the means itself is a testament to the importance of the communication, and if I am correct,
that message can and will be delivered only to the persons for whom it was intended. Without the privacy I
ask you to grant me, briefly, no one may ever know what is meant by this, and I assure you that it is vital
that the message be delivered."
"I can tell you this for now, though." Stepping closer to the eidolon, she pointed at the mark on its forehead:
a circle enclosing a serpent-like shape, like a backwards "s."
"This is a sigil, a symbol, almost like a signature, which is used to call upon or to identify a spirit or a deity.
In this case, the symbol is known as the Reverse Feminine. I have not seen it for a very long time, but I
recognize it without doubt. It has many subtle meanings and can be very powerful if used properly, but here,
I believe it may simply represent the source of the message."
She paused for a moment before continuing. Clearly no one in the room knew anything about the Reverse
Feminine. Gauging this, Philo continued.
"The Reverse Feminine is the sigil of the Grey Angel."
If she had intended to say more, it would have to wait, for at this utterance there was an immediate outburst
both from the council and from the crew of the Calvor.
Amidst the various gasps and exclamations, Jubee noted shock and disbelief in equal proportions. Though
familiar, vaguely, with some of the legends regarding the being, she herself knew little of the Grey Angel
and had always assumed that what she had heard had no basis in reality. The Misamee, she knew, was quite
large and held many marvels and wonders, but it also had its share of myths and legends. Unsure what Jubee
had meant by refering to the Grey Angel as the source of this mysterious message, she remained unmoved
by the revelation, watching and listening to the reactions of the others with interest.
For several minutes there was general chaos as the men argued and muttered amongst themselves, but
finally, Teron, who had briefly been as voluble as the others, brought the melee to a conclusion by banging
a gavel on the broad arm of his seat. The wood there bore scarrings from many similar episodes.
When at last order was reasonably restored, Teron asked the very question on Jubee's mind.
"Philo, what do you mean by this?"
Assessing the question, she paused for a moment, clearly seeking the best answer. Finally, she replied.
"There are sects in the Misamee that venerate the Grey Angel and devote themselves to her worship, but
they are rare. And.... it would take a great deal of skill and knowledge, and an even greater power, to create
a thing such as this. I do not believe that the sects possess the faculty for it. Few do." At this, a strange and
fleeting expression passed over Philo's features. Jubee caught it, but doubted that anyone else would have
noticed.
"I'm only conjecturing, at the moment, of course, but I believe that this statue may possibly have come
directly from The Cataract, directly from the Grey Angel herself."
There was another brief outburst at this, but since she had only served to confirm what everyone had
assumed anyway, it quickly died down.
It was Thomas, another of the elders and a man of distinguished features, with a full but well kept grey
beard and thick grey hair, who spoke next. He was seated far to the right of Teron, only a chair away from
the end of the curve on that side. He was known for his directness, but also for his wisdom and discernment.
"Philo, if I may ask, why would the Grey Angel send you a message? Sects and worshippers not
withstanding, the Grey Angel has not been seen by a living mortal, to the best of my knowledge, in a
thousand years or more, if she has in fact ever been seen at all. Though I am no authority on the subject, I
would even venture to say that the same might be said for the Cataract itself."
"I believe you are correct, Thomas.. No one has seen the Grey Angel in many, many generations of men. Or
at least, no one has seen her and lived to speak of it. And yes, the Cataract is itself hidden. But this," and
again she gestured at the statue, "is a creation which few, if any, but the Grey Angel herself could bring into
being. And it bears her mark."
She shrugged, as if the facts were self evident.
"As to why it has been sent... here too, I can only conjecture. As I said earlier, I have recently had reason to
believe that something, a sign, a message, a portent, a wind of change, I could not say, was coming. I
believe that this is what I have sensed approaching."
Drawing a deep breath, she continued. Now more than at any other time since they had entered the Hall,
Philo appeared wary.
"I have dreamed... many things in the last few weeks. Most of them have been disturbing. I believe that the
message may have something to do with this. But until I recieve it, I cannot say with any certianty why She
has contacted me."
Jubee's brow was furrowed now as well. The reference to Philo's dreams troubled her. She realised that she
knew as little of the nature of those dreams as the men before her, and suddenly she felt isolated from, cut
off from, Philo in a way she never had before.
"How can this thing be a message?"
It was one of the men from the Calvor. Momentarily distracted by her own thoughts, Jubee did not noticed
which, but watched Philo as she adressed the response to a tall, lean young man with a skinny face and short
tasseled hair.
"This is a kind of Golem.... though a relatively primitive and limited one. It is a thing which carries a spark
of life, but is not, usually, itself truly alive. Possessing only the intelligence it is meant to deliver, it will be
able to speak the message, and even to answer questions. It is a product of powerful magik, and as I have
said, such things are difficult to create. But as a messenger, it is second only to She from whom the message
comes, for it knows what She knows, perfectly, and it will speak only to the chosen recipient, revealing no
more than She wishes to be revealed."
The same youth that had spoken before, a wry smile on his face, piped up again when Philo finished.
“Why not send just a letter?”
Philo smiled as this, but replied with all seriousness.
“Letters do not keep secrets well. And letters can be forged. This thing is a message within a message,
therefore, saying much about She who created it and the importance of that which it is meant to convey.”
When Philo finished this time, a hush fell upon the room. The gravity of everything she had said suddenly
seemed both overwhelming and oppressive, and though all of it begged as many questions as it answered,
no one seemed willing to ask more of her.
"Very well," Teron spoke, his voice as intrusive after the momentary silence as thunder on a clear day,
"Philo, we shall adjourn, now, and leave you as you have requested. How long will you need?"
Admitting that there was no way to know, Philo explained that she did not anticipate that the message would take
long to receive. The congregation therefore agreed to reconvene at a local tavern only a short way down the main
street and there await Philo’s arrival and further instruction.
Watching them as they left, Jubee stood near Philo, almost shoulder to shoulder with the other woman,
silently assessing everything that she had seen and heard.
When they were finally alone, Philo turned and faced her, looking directly into her eyes. Her own
expression contained so many conflicting emotions that Jubee was momentarily afraid - for both of them.
Foremost among those emotions seemed to be a combination of sadness and compassion.
After a moment, she smiled, but her eyes still remained clouded with the turmoil she obviously felt. She
seemed to be waiting for something.
“Philo?” Jubee spoke tentatively, almost afraid to bring the avalanche that now seemed certain.
“I know you’re worried, Jubee. Its my fault. A lot of things are my fault. There’s so much I have to tell you,
so many things that I have to say to you, to explain to you, and I…. I’ve been afraid to for a long time. Now
I am afraid that there’s not enough time.”
Jubee was mildly surprised. Fear was something she had been certain, for a very long time, that Philo knew
very little of. But she could hear it in her voice now, though it was almost buried beneath her native resolve.
“Whatever you have to say, I will listen, and I will understand, if I can. Don’t be afraid of saying anything
to me. But I do want one thing from you.”
“No more secrets?”
“No more secrets. I want you to be more open with me. I don’t know what’s going on here any more than
the elders or the men from that ship do, but you have been having these dreams, these visions, whatever
they are, for a long time now. “
“That’s true. But… I wasn’t sure what they meant. I wasn’t sure they meant anything, really. And….”
Here Philo paused, obviously finding it difficult to proceed, the words seeming to elude her.
“Jubee, I don’t know where to start. I don’t think I’ve ever known where to start. That’s the problem.”
“Let’s start here, then.” came the reply. “What is this thing, and why is it here? You may not know what it’s
going to say, but tell me what you do know, or suspect - whatever it was that you wouldn’t say to the
elders.”
Philo raised an eyebrow at this, but her smile didn’t falter.
“I don’t think its going to be that easy, Love. Like I said, there are too many things that you need to know.
So for now, please, trust me. Let us hear what the Golem has to say, and then, tonight, perhaps, I can try to
explain all of it, or as much of it as I know. “
Jubee held her gaze, unflinchingly. She said nothing, but her disappointment was evident in her body
language.
Philo drew a long breath. “I could be wrong about everything.” This was meant as a deflection. It was
tactless.
But Jubee had no intention of being deflected. Direct as always, she parried. “But even if you are, even if
the message isn’t what you think it is, we still need to talk.”
“Yes.” There would be nothing more forthcoming for now, and Jubee knew it. But she also knew that the
wall would soon come down and that whatever was waiting on the other side would be revealed.
She had been waiting a long time for this. Now she wasn’t sure that she wanted it.
Sighing, she simply said, “Very well. For now, lets hear what it has to say. The rest we can deal with later.”
Philo turned and walked towards the eidolon, and Jubee followed close behind. She knew that Philo was
hurt, and that had not been her intention. Nevertheless, now was not the time for such things.
As they reached the dais, Philo ascended the three steps to its surface, but Jubee simply walked around its
gradual curve until she came to a place where she could best see the front of the statue without obstruction.
Philo, meanwhile, unceremoniously approached the thing itself, and when she stood directly before it, she
paused momentarily, looking up at its face, as if trying to divine its secrets by reading is physiognomy.
Evidently unsatisfied by its placidly oblivious expression, she moved to perform whatever act would unlock
its grave silence and bring forth the message it was meant to deliver.
The statue’s body was substantially taller than Philo, but standing on her toes, she had little trouble reaching
the symbol painted on its forehead, and there she placed her left hand, covering the mark entirely with her
palm. Looking back over her shoulder, she glanced meaningfully at Jubee - as if to say, “be ready” - and
then, in a loud and commanding voice, she spoke a single word which Jubee did not recognize. It sounded
like “Eh-met.”
The change began immediately, but the only outward symptoms were in the texture of the statue’s surface
and in its face. Whereas it had formerly appeared to be hardened and semi-glossy, it was now rapidly
assuming a smoother, softer appearance, almost as if it were skin rather than clay. The signs were most
notable in those regions not covered by its ornamental clothing.
The face gradually seemed to slacken somehow, as if it too was softening and the weight of its ample
features were pulling it downwards. There was something in its eyes, as well, which changed, so that though
they remained stationary, seemingly staring blindly into space, Jubee felt sure that they were not at all
sightless any longer.
On the whole, the statue was notably more organic in appearance, as if it had come to life in some limited
way. Jubee was impressed and would not have been suprised if it had risen of its own accord and walked
from the room. However, despite its more life-like appearance, it still showed no signs of true animation.
Philo, looking as if nothing had occured which she had not anticipated, stepped back down from the dais
and stood to Jubee’s left.
After another moment, when the changes seemed to be complete, she spoke again, her tone commanding.
“Emmet. Speak.”
And speak it did, its massive mouth suddenly and eerily moving, a masculine voice as deep and resonant as
the thunder of the tides issuing forth from within it.
“Philo and Jubee of Danbooth, salutations from The Lady of the Cataract.”
Philo nodded. It was as she had suspected, then.
Her voice still strong and commanding, she spoke again.
“Salutations, Messenger, and praise to Her from whom you come. Tell us what you have been sent to tell.”
“Philo of Danbooth, the Lady wishes an audience with you and your companion, and therefore extends an
invitation. Arrangement for your travel has been made, should you accept.”
At this, Philo’s face drained of color, her expression one of unmitigated shock.
“On what pretext? And how is it possible? No one travels to the Cataract. No one even knows where it is.
And no one seeks the audience of the Grey Angel. She is not seen. Ever.”
“The Lady of the Cataract extends the invitation with due gravity, for She believes that you may be able to
enlighten Her with regard to certain circumstances which concern both the Past and the Future of the
Greater Misamee. The matter is one of profound urgency and importance.”
“The Lady knows both the past and the future of this and all other worlds, for Her weave is the web upon
which they rest. What can I tell Her that She does not already know? And what are the circumstances to
which you refer?”
“The Lady sees the past where it may be seen, the Present as it is, and where these meet at the intersections
of the Future, she may look, but can not foretell. The Future is no one’s to know, for its intricacies are too
great, its possibilities innumerable. As for the matter at hand, there is a darkness gathering in the Misamee,
and it is before Her Eye. Its shadow emminates from the Fulcrum, from the heart of this world, and The
Lady can see neither its beginning nor its end, so that its Past is obscured, Its Present is a creeping
blindness, and its Future, therefore, beyond any scrutiny at all. But The Lady believes that you, and perhaps
you alone, know something of the Nature of this thing, and therefore sends for you.
“Why now?”
“Already, the earth shakes with the strength of this thing, and daily it grows more powerful, its reach
greater, its darkness more profound. You have seen this. You know of what She speaks.”
Almost reluctantly, Philo confirmed this. “I do.”
“Will you come, then?”
“I will. My duty is before me, as I have always known it one day would be. But Jubee must remain here.”
At this, Jubee, who had been glancing with ever growing amazement from speaker to speaker, let out a
surprised protestation, but Philo’s hand raised to silence her, almost as if to brush her away. Her gaze never
turned from the statue.
“The Lady requests an audience with both of you.”
“Jubee is needed here. And it will be safer for her. Why does She want Jubee to come?”
“The Lady believes that you know the answer to this question.”
Philo scowled, but there was defeat written on her features. Jubee watched her closely, deeply mystified by
the entire exchange. Never the less, she remained silent. It was clear that her part in this had been decided,
without regard to her consent or her understanding.
With an air of weary resignation, Philo responded to the imperative, saying only, “Very well. ”
Her eyes finally reliquished their vigil on the statue and settled now on the floor near her feet. She looked
terribly tired. Jubee wanted very much to touch her in that moment, to reach out and place her hand on the
other woman’s shoulder. But something restrained her and she stood still, a frown marring her features.
“We accept the invitation. We will come. What arrangements have been made for our transport?”
“Consult the crew of the ship which has delivered The Lady’s Missive. Instructions for the first part of the
journey have been left with them. Do not concern yourself with expenses. Your path has been cleared from
here to the Cataract. You need only follow the steps which are laid before you.”
Again, Philo responded with, “Very well.”
“The Lady thanks you.”
“And we thank Her for Her kindness, always.”
“Consign the Missive to the sea.”
“It shall be done.”
And with this, the exchange ended and, just as promptly as it had come to life, the statue seemed once more
rendered devoid of all signs of animation, its skin quickly regaining its initial rigidity.
For some time, both women stood just as still, and around them the silence gathered until it seemed that
time itself was frozen.
******************************************************************************************
When Philo and Jubee left the Meeting Hall, they did so without speaking, but Philo reached out her hand
and Jubee took it gladly.
As the great doors closed behind them and the bright light of day once more cascaded down with welcome
warmth, briefly blinding them, and as the prosaic sounds and smells of the main street of Danbooth greeted
their senses, both felt estranged from all of it for a moment.
However, the feeling soon passed, for though mysteries and wonders will sometimes intrude upon the
canvas of the mundane, that hardy fabric will always reassert itself with diligent strokes as quickly as
possible, and the wise, though knowing the truth, will welcome the obfuscation.
When they reached the tavern where the elders and the men of the Calvor awaited them, the raucous discord
of open but friendly debate was quickly quailed just as it had been in the Meeting Hall. The expectant eyes
of all present who knew the business at hand were turned in questioning upon the two women.
But if the gratification of a quick end to mysteries was hoped for, that hope was dashed when Philo spoke,
for, she explained, the first order of business was the proper disposal of the Missive, and this had to be done
as soon as possible out of deferral for Her who had sent it.
This said, it was agreed that Philo and Jubee would meet the elders again in the evening at the home of
Teron, where the matters of the day would be discussed in greater detail over dinner.
Seeing that the men of the Calvor were frustrated by this arrangement, Philo informed them that she would
also soon be meeting the captain of their vessel, and that, perhaps, when this occurred, their own curiosity
would be quelled.
All arrangements thus made, together the men of the Calvor rose and followed Philo back to the Meeting
Hall where Philo instructed them in what was to be done. Under her direction, the men once again lifted the
massive bulk of the statue and carefully maneuvered it out of the building, taking once more to the streets.
The first time the men had made this journey from the docks the statue had been crated and had drawn only
a modicum of attention from the general population who were used to cargo ships and trading vessels and
the assorted freight they sometimes brought into the streets. Now, however, the thing was bare, exposed to
the bright, warm light of day in all of its glory, and, as Philo and Jubee lead the way, their passing drew
much more attention.
Gradually a crowd formed behind the train and its cargo as men, women, and children strayed from their
distractions and occupations to follow this strange and eloquent thing so that by the time they reached the
water front, the swollen procession looked more like a small parade, though, perhaps out of deferral for the
solemn gravity of the statue itself, and the austerity of those who bore it, the whole of the curious crowd was
generally silent as well.
Instead of returning directly to the docks, Philo lead the way gradually towards the open shore to the
southwest of Danbooth proper where there were small, smooth patches of scintillating white beach. Here the
scent of the cool, salty air was stronger even than in the streets of Danbooth, and Jubee inhaled deeply of it
as the tingling sting of it caressed her skin and the gentle ocean breeze stirred her short, unruly hair.
Though the Split Spheres would not fully set for a few more hours, the day had aged more than Jubee had
realized, and looking out over the waters towards the west, she saw them now, their gentle light glinting on
the waves as they dipped towards the horizon in their ponderous course.
Her feet now treading upon the soft powdery white earth of the beach that she had chosen, Philo slackened
her pace as the group approached the water’s edge, and finally, just where the gentle lapping of the waves
slid over colder, darker sand, she and everyone else halted.
Turning back towards the men who bore the Missive, Philo instructed them to set it down where they were
and to rest for a few minutes. Though the statue was not as heavy as it appeared, and though there were
enough of them to carry it with ease, the men of the Calvor had come a long way from the Meeting Hall and
were glad to be unburdened. Carefully they lowered the statue to the ground, and then, stepping back from it
a few feet, most of them sat down on the beach and quietly awaited further instruction.
While they rested, Philo surprised everyone by climbing up onto the statue so that its face was level with her
own. Leaning over and placing her lips close to its ears, she clearly whispered something to it, and then,
turning back to its face, she carefully effaced the symbol from its forehead with the thumb of her right hand.
Once all trace of the mark was gone, she lowered herself back to the sand, and walking to the water’s edge,
she washed her hands.
Then she returned to where the men were sitting in the sand.
“We have to take it out into the water a little way. Because it is heavy, that won’t be easy, but we must act
with care and not let it slip. When we are out far enough, I will tell you, and we will lower the Missive into
the sea. That which has held it together is gone now, and when we submerge it, it will come apart and
disperse into the waters. This is as it should be. Now, if you will, please, help me to finish this.”
Having thus spoken, she stepped over to the statue, and even as the men rose to do as she had instructed,
she herself bent and placed her hands upon the base of the statue. Gathering around her, the men took their
places, and when everyone had a grip upon it, they lifted the eidolon from the sand and began to carry it, a
step at a time, into the surf.
As Jubee stood watching, she wondered briefly if she should have helped, but knew that if Philo had wanted
her assistance, she would have asked for it. That was her way.
The cold water was now breaking in white foam around the knees of Philo and the men from the Calvor.
Carried at approximately waist height, the bottom of the thing had not yet contacted the surface, but only a
few moments later, as the bearers reached deeper regions, this changed.
Immediately Jubee could see that the dark, scintillate waters were becoming cloudy around the bearers as a
milky white patch seeped out from the bottom of the statue and spread gradually, carried by the shore-
bound waves.
A few more feet, and the bearers were themselves submerged beyond their waists. Now, Jubee could see
that Philo was speaking to the men, but could not hear what she was saying over sound of the surf. A
moment later, and, with obvious effort, they eased the statue fully into the water, setting it upon the unseen
sands below. Then, following Philo’s lead they backed away from it.
Their effort complete, most of the men yet seemed reluctant to leave, their curiosity rooting them where
they stood despite the temperature of the waters, but with an authoritative wave of her arm, Philo directed
them back to the shore where she joined them, soaked and freezing, as they stood in a line apart from the
gathered crowd of observers and watched what they had wrought.
There, in the softening violet and silver light of the Split Spheres, with the cloudless vastness of endless
skies and unbroken sea before its serenely unperturbed gaze, the Missive, its work complete, began to
unknit itself. Absorbing the waters into the strangely porous fibers of its being, it slowly changed to a darker
color even as the sea around it lightened, becoming paler by the moment. Then, its features slumping
slightly, the contours of its form growing softer, it began, visibly, to shrink, until finally it disappeared
beneath the waves, the only sign of its passing the startlingly white waves which lapped against the equally
white sands of the shore. Eventually, the discoloration of the waters too dissipated, and, as if it had never
existed, the Missive was gone.
All the while, Philo stood perfectly still, her eyes focused upon the place where the statue was consigning
itself to oblivion. Knowing more of its nature than those around her, she quietly offered prayers for the safe
passage of the essence which had inhabited it.
Be at peace and return now, whence you have come.
Mesmerized by what they had seen, but having no context for it, the villagers who had followed the
procession and remained to watch the Missive dissolve, now spoke in whispers amongst themselves. For
most of them, Jubee knew, the participation of Philo was enough to allay any concerns they might have had
at these strange proceedings. To them, her presence was a blessing. They would talk about the event for
days, speculating about what had happened and what it meant, and then, bolstered by the urbane affairs of
daily life, they would return to simpler and more immediate matters, most of them forgetting that anything
had happened at all. Even now some of them were breaking away and returning to the village, but, as Philo
and the men from the Calvor turned and came back up the beach, Jubee watched with a smile as some of
those who remained removed coats and shawls and offered them, first to Philo, who reluctantly but
gratefully accepted the articles, and then to the soaking men beside her.
They have good hearts, she thought.
As Philo approached her, Jubee stepped forward and placed an arm around her. Philo rested her head on the
proffered shoulder, and together they walked towards the last line of villagers.
But noticing that the men from the Calvor still followed her, Philo stopped and offered them her thanks for
their services. They had done well, and only one thing more would be required of them. As she began to ask
them to escort her to an audience with their captain once she had had a chance to dry herself and clean up a
little, she was interrupted by a hearty call from somewhere down the beach.
As everyone in their party turned to look, they saw a tall, slim man striding purposefully down the beach
towards them, and Saul immediately identified him as the Captain of the Calvor.
“His name is Hest. And it looks like you won’t need us to introduce you to him after all.”
Indeed, Philo was clearly Captain Hest’s target as his long legs brought him swiftly into their presence.
Lean and careworn, his face was unshaven and rugged, his eyes bright and intelligent, and the smile on his
face sincere. The wind had stirred his dark, close cropped hair into complete disarray, but the wildness of it
almost suited him. Jubee liked him immediately, and when Philo returned his smile with equal warmth, she
knew that the feeling was mutual.
Stopping before them, the captain appraised them both unabashedly and then extended his large, rough
hand. “You,” he said, looking straight into Philo’s eyes with a gaze as frank and unwavering as her own,
“must be Philo. And you,” he said, disengaging his hand from Philo’s after a brief and gentle shake and
proffering it to the woman beside her, “must be Jubee. It is a pleasure and an honor to meet you- both of
you.”
His accent was strange and intriguing. The Hannah Lassah of the Shadur, the language of the indigenous
people of the Misamee, was obviously not his own native tongue, but he spoke it clearly and easily. Shaking
his hand, Jubee nodded to him and smiled.
“How did you know which of us was which?” she asked.
“Your reputations precede you.” He said, enigmatically, but with a friendly tone. Jubee wondered what he
meant, but didn’t pursue the matter. There had been no insult tendered, and she knew this.
Turning from them to his men, who lingered in a semi-circle around them, Captain Hest addressed them
with the same pleasant tone, but with an air of authority, and quickly bidding Philo and Jubee farewell, the
lot of them obeyed him and left to return to the Calvor.
“They are curious about you, yet, Philo and Jubee of Danbooth. As I am. It is a strange errand we have
come upon, though doubtless one of importance. And, it is one, I must confess, by which we have already
profited more than a little. Upon your delivery at Kahleen, we shall profit even more. A most agreeable
commission. ” The corners of his mouth raised slyly and there was a glint in his eye at this. Jubee found
herself amused by the man. He had a definite magnetism.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t join you earlier. If you will be so kind, I would love to speak to you, later, and find out
what I have missed.”
“Certainly,” Philo said, her tone friendly, though Jubee could see that the intense curiosity of everyone
around her about the matter at hand, though understandable, was beginning to wear on her.
“But first,” Hest continued, “we should get you cleaned up and discuss the issue of your travel
arrangements. We can do both, comfortably, aboard the Calvor if you like.”
Philo nodded at this, and turned to Jubee. Her voice soft, face to face with her audience, she said, “Jubee,
we are expected at Teron’s home in a little while, but this has to be done, and we still need a few supplies.
Why don’t you go back into Danbooth and get the things we need, and then go on to Teron’s. I will take
care of this and then meet you there?”
Though phrased as a question, Jubee knew that the matter was not open for discussion. Disappointed again,
she smiled and nodded, and when Philo leaned close and kissed her on the cheek, she returned the gesture
with affection despite feeling alienated and excluded.
It was true, though, and she knew it: the day was growing old and there were a few things that they needed
at the Temple, even if they evidently weren’t going to be there for much longer. Therefore, taking her leave,
she put a brave face on and went to do as she was asked.
When Jubee was on her way, Philo turned, the smile gone from her face, and looked once more into Hest’s
eyes. Sensing the gravity of her expression, his own smile wavered but did not lapse.
“Shall we, Captain?”
Nodding, he turned and gesturing with a gallant swing of his arm, indicated the direction of the docks.
Together the two walked down the beach as the Split Spheres inched closer to the horizon and the day drew
closer to its end.
****************************************************************************************
When they finally reached the Temple, both Philo and Jubee were exhausted. Few words had passed
between them as they made their way back up the mountain, and Jubee sensed that Philo was still
preoccupied with thoughts of the day’s events.
Her own thoughts had centered, primarily, around the mysterious manner with which Philo had addressed
those gathered for the dinner at Teron’s. There, at a table generously laden with a wonderful meal prepared
by the extended family of their gracious host and surrounded by the eager and concerned members of the
Council of Danbooth, Philo had spoken at great length, but had said very little.
Once more she had reiterated that she had been having portentous dreams for some time and that she
believed that the Missive was connected with them. When asked about the nature of the dreams, Philo had
deftly deflected the matter, suggesting only that the dreams were obscure, but dealt, she thought, with
matters which might be taking place further to the north in the mainland of Chesett, the Island state upon
whose shores Danbooth was situated. When several of the Council Elders responded to this with mention of
vague rumors heard in the last few months of earthquakes and freakish storms in some of the territories far
to the north, Philo did not look surprised and agreed that such things, if true, might be connected to the
issues at hand.
The exact nature of the matter was, however, even in light of the message she had received, unclear to her.
She felt certain that whatever was happening might eventually concern the Greater Misamee, but she did not
think that it was prudent at this juncture to be alarmed by it.
She also told the council that the Missive had in fact been sent on behalf of the Grey Angel, by, as she put
it, someone ‘doubtless in the service of The Lady of The Cataract,’ and that the bulk of the message had
been a request for a meeting with this individual. Given her earlier statements, Jubee had been surprised by
this distortion of the truth, but had not betrayed her feelings. She was certain that there was sufficient reason
for Philo’s obfuscations, even if she wasn’t really certain what that reason might be.
Some of the Elders seemed distressed at the thought that Philo and Jubee might leave Danbooth, but Philo
gently assured them that any help she could offer in the resolution of these mysterious matters would be
given on behalf of Danbooth, too- in the interests of the safety of it and its people, and that she and Jubee
would return to their home as soon as it their part in all of it was resolved.
At this juncture, she had requested of them that they keep what little they had learned about the day’s events
to themselves in the interest of maintaining the peace of mind of the people of Danbooth and preventing the
spread of unfounded rumors.
“If the people of Danbooth ask where we have gone,” she instructed, “tell them that we have been
summoned by an acquaintance on an errand of purely personal significance, and that we will return as soon
as possible.” And, she said, both she and Jubee would be most grateful if the elders could arrange to have
the Temple looked after in their absence.
The council readily agreed to both requests.
How long did she think they would be gone, wondered Teron. But to this Philo could give no answer and
did not care, she said, to speculate.
Not surprisingly, the Council had largely been satisfied with this discourse. They knew little of Philo’s past,
save only that she and Jubee had come out of the north years before and taken up residence at the Temple.
All that mattered to these pragmatic people was that the two kept peacefully to themselves and had always
been helpful when needed.
They accepted Philo and her strange powers and abilities because they had no reason to fear them. The
Misamee was full of strange wonders, after all. That the extent of her powers were largely unknowable to
them did not seem to matter, either, and that the sphere of their influence included realms to which the
common folk of Danbooth were not privy only seemed natural. It followed that mysteries and portents
might surround them occasionally, that messages from the likes of the legendary Lady of the Cataract might
come to them. They were not surprised or disappointed when they failed to comprehend it all.
Jubee, on the other hand, had been frustrated by the meeting. She had hoped to learn something more than
she already knew, but now, if anything, the matter had been confused and blurred, even for her.
However, as they had left the gathering, bidding the council and Teron’s family a fond farewell, she had
consoled herself with the hope that Philo would keep her promise to tell her all that she knew or suspected
when they were alone together.
Now, despite obvious efforts at non-chalance, Philo’s entire demeanor bespoke reticence, and it was evident
that she didn’t intend to broach the subject in what remained of the day. Jubee knew that Philo had not
forgotten their confrontation in the Meeting Hall, and she was hurt.
No more secrets, you said. But secrets, it seemed, were the coin of the realm today.
She just isn’t ready, Jubee thought, and patient as always, she tried to let it go.
Maybe Tomorrow…
Despite all of this, as they approached the Temple, she was surprised when Philo failed to light the candles
as she always did when returning after dark, and once inside Jubee went to work pushing the encroaching
night out of the corners herself. Having first applied the striker to a single wick, she then quietly traversed
the room passing its flame from candle to candle until there was a warm and unobtrusive golden glow
though out.
There was something in that act that stirred her, as if the flame were a soul somehow derived from the first
spark of the striker, and born again upon each new wick, so that all of them were bound, finally, by some
unseen connection that made them one. Scarcely able to credit the thought or discover its origin, she found
it oddly unsettling and pushed it aside.
Meanwhile, Philo placed the pack with their supplies in a corner, and then, without ceremony, she retired to
her mat on the floor of the Temple, sitting with her legs crossed while she waited for Jubee to finish. When
Jubee turned from the last candle and looked at her, Philo smiled, but just for an instant, as if her carefully
maintained exterior had been compromised and something that she was trying with all of her will-power to
hide had escaped without her knowledge, Jubee caught, in her eyes, a flash of heavy sadness. In all of their
time together it was unlike anything she had seen in Philo’s face. Though pained to see it and to know that
Philo did not want her to, she did not betray her observation.
Instead, stepping lithely to her own mat, she sat down beside Philo, easing closer to her, and laid her head
on the other woman’s shoulder. Because she understood so little, she did not know what she could do to
help, to pierce that core of sadness and unburden the spirit it was crushing. Deep within she felt helpless and
frustrated with the same passion that she felt love for this mystery that sat beside her, but in the end it was
the love she expressed, and it was the love that was returned.
For her own part, Philo knew that Jubee could sense her distress, and she understood that her silence was
difficult. Indeed, this was the essence of her sadness- that after everything, after all of her efforts and
sacrifices, it should all come to this. She had never been an impulsive creature. She preferred to weigh her
options and make her decisions with care. But for all of that, she had been forced in the course of a single
day to make one of the most important decisions of her life. As her mind wandered wearily over the well
worn paths of many tragic memories, she realized, though not for the first time, that it had too often been so.
What will become of you, my Heart? she thought. What will become of you, who are my child and my love
and my light? Who will take care of you? And will you ever be able to understand that this which I do, I do
for you?
Taking Jubee in her arms, she held her and gently whispered the words of a very old and secret song into
her ear, a song of deep sleep, and Jubee, though she could not understand the words, knew that it spoke of
peace and of love, and was lulled by it, gradually, into a tranquil slumber.
Laying her down, Philo pulled a blanket over her and then sat back for a moment regarding her form in
repose. Though she was herself exhausted, and though Jubee would not wake for many hours, it was better,
she thought, to go now, and be done with it.
Her arrangements with Hest were made. Though he had initially planned to stay for a couple of days to take
advantage of the opportunity to trade with Danbooth’s merchants, when she had confronted him with the
urgency of her errand he had agreed to sail as soon as Philo returned to the ship. He had also agreed,
reluctantly, to leave without Jubee, despite the fact that the instructions of his commission had been to bring
the both of them back to Kahleen. Philo had assured him that she would see to it that he received his
payment regardless, and sensing, perhaps, the raw power of her determination, he had believed her.
As for denying the Grey Angel’s request that Jubee come along….. It was, Philo reflected, strange that the
Lady did not seem to know what it was that churned at the heart of the Misamee, that it had taken Her so long
to turn Her attention upon it, but that She could trace Philo back to its genesis was not surprising. It was for
this very reason, though, that She had to know that Jubee’s involvement was largely irrelevant.
I know what you believe and why you believe it. But if you can see the skein of her fate, from its beginning,
then you must also know that she is innocent. My sins are my own. Though she is marked by them, just as I
am, she bears no blame and no responsibility for them.
In the end, the Lady of the Cataract had to be aware that Philo would not allow Jubee to come, anyway. It
was a matter of probability, as all things are, after all, and the request itself could be nothing more than a
formality.
Of course, Jubee would not understand. But the best that Philo could do for her was to leave a message in
Danbooth, explaining it all as best she was able. She knew it would be found on the following day.
A message would also be left for the Elders.
‘Take care of her for me. Don’t let her leave, if you can stop her.’
Which, she mused sadly, I doubt that they can.
By the time Jubee had reached Danbooth and received the message, the Calvor would be long gone. And
even if she ventured as far as Kahleen, Philo would be long gone from there as well. From Kahleen it was
doubtful that anyone would be able to track her.
Regardless, the most she could hope for, in all likelihood, was that Jubee would realize the futility of pursuit
before she got that far.
Rising, finally, she turned, and leaving everything behind without another glimpse, she walked out once
more into the darkness.
And not long after she left, Jubee began to stir.
***************
The dream was cold, and blue, and devoid of form.
Within it, but unaware that she was dreaming, Jubee could hear the lapping of waves, and the sound was
also cold.
I’m at sea, she thought, and I have no boat.
Now, the blue, formless void, as if taking direction from her thoughts and from the sound of the waves,
coalesced around her body, and suddenly she was, indeed, at sea. Struggling to keep her head above the
water, she drew a panicked breath of thick, frigid air, and swung herself clumsily around, trying to get her
bearings.
How did I get here?
But all around there was nothing but the cold blue of waves and the grey of rolling fog. No horizon. No sign
of land. Though less formless, it seemed, the void was still a void.
Knowing that she had to conserve her energy, Jubee ceased her flailing, exerting herself only enough to
remain afloat, and tried to collect her thoughts. Without knowing how she had gotten into this situation and
with no idea in which direction land might be, she knew that she was in terrible trouble.
Disconcerted and confused, fear was slowly welling up inside of her, threatening to overcome her, despite
her efforts to remain calm.
I’m going to drown. And when I do, I will sink, down, down, forever down, into the empty blackness below.
Again compelled by her thoughts and drawing inspiration from them, the void was transfigured. Reaching
out from beneath her, it wrapped cold, dark fingers around her feet, and even as she screamed, it pulled her
under.
Now the grey fog was gone, and the blue emptiness, and the lapping of the waves with them. Now there was
only darkness absolute, and silence, and the embracing cold. Her scream cut off, her lungs now filled with
the darkness as well, and with this terrible intrusion there came a crushing heaviness in her chest.
Still she continued downward, and the heaviness increased, and the cold became colder. She knew now,
with a terrible certainty, that soon she would die. She knew that she would be lost here, in the darkness, and
that no one would ever know what had happened to her or where she was. She would die, alone.
Alone, came the sound of her own voice, echoing in her mind, over and over. Alone.
Where is Philo? Why isn’t she here to help me?
Attempting to call out, she merely received another draught of darkness which seeped into her limbs, now
distributing its numbing weight to them as well..
But the thought of Philo had stirred something in her, and despite the weight, she suddenly found herself
fighting the pull from below. Kicking and lashing out, she struggled, the cold slowly tempered and
overcome by her helpless rage.
This is wrong. She should be here. Where is Philo? Why am I alone?
Reaching out, she raked her fingers through the blackness and was not surprised to find it grown tangible.
Now, less like deep, cold water, she felt herself enveloped in something not unlike the thick, rough texture
of a curtain. As if sentient it wrapped itself around her more tightly than before, the hands it had used to
drag her down now more like the coils of a great serpent, the heaviness in her lungs now replaced by its
choking, crushing grip.
But grasping handfuls of the blackness and kicking out with all her might, she fought it until suddenly it
relinquished her, and with a cry she was hurled from the depths of that silent, unconscious blackness, back
onto the shores of the waking world where she found herself still half entwined with her blanket.
For a moment she was disoriented, but the feeling quickly passed. Sitting up, she placed her hands on her
forehead and drew a ragged breath. Her heart was beating too fast, but this too was subsiding. It had only
been a nightmare. In a moment she would be fine.
Drawing her hands away from her face, she sensed the warmth of the candles against her eyelids. With her
eyes closed the world was still silent, but it was a comforting gold rather than black, and despite the night
air coming in through the uncovered oval windows, it was warm within the Temple.
The last of the dream was passing now, and she opened her eyes, taking in the solid form of the wall and
ceiling before her. Then, turning slightly she looked to where Philo would be, seeking a final reassurance.
But Philo was not there.
She might not have been alarmed by this, for sadly Philo often awoke from her own troubled dreams and
stepped out of the Temple to sit on its steps, but Jubee could see that Philo’s blanket was unturned, and the
thin cushion she used for a pillow bore no sign of having been used either.
This is wrong. She should be here. Where is Philo? Why am I alone? The words of her dream returned to
her, and for a moment the darkness, the silence, the cold, and the aloneness of it threatened to intrude again,
but she pushed them aside, and finding her voice, she called out.
“Philo?”
But there was no response.
Pushing the blankets away, she got to her feet, and as she walked to the western door of the Temple, she
called again. Again she received no response.
Now she stood within the doorway, and looking out she could see that the steps were empty. Recrossing the
room, she looked out of the eastern doorway, but here too she found nothing but the night. She looked once
more into the Temple, her gaze scanning the room, passing over the mat where Philo had clearly never lain,
to the corner where the supplies rested against the wall. The pack was still full. There was no sign of Philo,
but if she had left, she had taken nothing with her.
But, Jubee rationalized, why would she leave, anyway? She wouldn’t go anywhere without letting me know.
And she certainly wouldn’t leave in the middle of the night.
Despite these thoughts, however, the heaviness from her dream was even now filling her chest.
She called out again, this time louder, and listened as the darkness and the forest beyond consumed her
voice and gave her nothing in return. Leaving the doorway of the Temple, she took a few steps away, until
she stood at the edge of the soft light thrown out of the windows by the candles. Her bare feet left no sign in
the short, springy grass, and she hardly felt the cold sheen of dew that she gleaned with each step. She gave
no thought to acquiring her sandals. It did not occur to her to go back and get a candle to bring with her.
She moved almost as one in a trance.
Step by step she left the Temple, calling out as she went, her certainty that something was terribly wrong
growing with each passing moment. When she left the clearing and entered the forest, her unprotected feet
now treading upon a bed of fallen leaves, and occasionally upon sharp twigs and stones, she barely gave any
of it a thought. Indeed, she never even considered that Philo might have gone in the other direction, towards
the cliffs rather than into the forest. Something in the back of her mind, which she consciously ignored even
as she acted out its dictates, suggested otherwise and drew her in the general direction of the village of
Danbooth.
Around her the forest closed in. Had she looked back, she would not have been able to see the Temple any
longer. Had she looked up, the stars would have been hidden from her. Once more she was surrounded, as
she had been in her dream, by inky blackness, her vision sufficing only barely to allow her to make her way
between the trees and to avoid tripping over the most prominent roots.
The only sounds now were her own voice, calling out, again and again, and the soft sound of her footsteps,
her breathing, and her heart.
On and on she went, farther and farther from the Temple. Again and again she called. Growing cold, she
began to shiver, and though she was accustomed to going barefoot from time to time, her feet were now
paining her.
Worst of all though was a growing sense of emptiness. It didn’t make any sense, but clearly Philo was gone.
Though it had crossed her mind that something might have happened to her, it was difficult for Jubee to
reconcile the evidence with this reasoning. If something had happened at the Temple, surely it would have
awoken her, and surely Philo, if injured in some way, would not have wandered far from the Temple and
from Jubee.
Where she might have gone and for what purpose, Jubee could not fathom, but she felt sure that Philo had
left on her own for a reason of her own, and the fact that she had not told Jubee that she was planning on
doing so did not bode well.
Though she loved Philo with all of her heart, Jubee knew that she was a keeper of secrets. In her minds eye,
Jubee could see the smile on Philo’s face contrasted with the sadness in her eyes, and with the memory there
came at last the sob that she had so far managed to hold back. It only barely resembled the name she had
been calling out all along.
Stopping, she stood beneath the ancient trees, and cried.
Why? What did I do?
Where did you go?
Please come back. Please. Come back, to me. I need you. Don’t leave me alone.
She no longer knew if she was speaking aloud. She knew there would be no answer, anyway. Surrounded
by the forest on all sides, she might as well have been at the bottom of the sea, alone, and cold. Slowly, she
descended, pulled downward again, until her knees touched the damp leaves and the hard earth. And there
she stayed, her eyes closed, the void of darkness behind them unbroken.
She had no idea how long she had been there when the sound came. At first she didn’t even know if she had
actually heard it. But a moment later it came again, and she was certain. It seemed only the sound of rustling
in leaves, almost like steps taken lightly and furtively. She could not tell how close it was, but it seemed to
be coming from ahead of her.
Looking up she opened her eyes once more, but the darkness outside was only slightly less than the
darkness inside.
Standing again and wiping away tears even as other took their places, she continued to listen, but the sound
had ceased now. Had it been an animal?
“Philo?”
The word seemed suddenly too loud, far louder than the sound of rustling had been. When she called again,
she spoke more softly.
At first there was no answer, but then there came, again, the rustling, and this time it was clearly closer. A
chill ran down Jubee’s spine. If it was Philo, why wouldn’t she answer?
“Philo, PLEASE.” The desperation she could hear in her own voice brought renewed tears. Now she was
afraid. And with the fear, there came the first hint of anger. Like a spark, it traveled up her back, nerve by
nerve, a tingling warmth that gradually grew into a small fire, until it found the kindling it sought in her
mind and became a blaze.
With it there came a flash of light.
For a moment, what Jubee saw seemed impossibly surreal, and she blinked, as if in so doing, she might
make it disappear.
In large part it was the forest, but it was the forest transformed, laid bare by a cold luminescence which
seemed to be coming from behind her. Turning and looking up, she saw that its source was a large white
ball of light floating a few feet behind and above her. She knew it immediately for what it was, and knew
also that she had created it, but she did not know how. And even as she realized this, she heard, from the
direction she had previously been facing, the soft sound, now closer still- now more persistent and less
furtive.
Her face set, she turned once more, and watched as a shadow moved from tree to tree just beyond the radius
of the light, slowly coming towards her. It was close to the ground, and she knew at once that it was an
animal, but something in the way it moved held her gaze, and she stood still as it approached.
She knew it was aware of her presence, too, that it had been aware of her even before the light. Now it was
obviously drawn, as if by a beacon. She awaited its approach without fear, for it appeared to be small and
therefore unlikely to be very dangerous, and she was too upset to be truly afraid.
Whatever it is, let it come.
And then, finally, as it passed from the shadow of the nearest unlit tree and came just to the edge of the
ball’s fiery circle, it stopped and stood looking at her, its eyes ablaze with reflected light.
Unable to see it properly, Jubee took one step forward, and the ball followed her, revealing the creature
clearly.
It was a fox.
It stood perfectly still, its triangular black ears at attention, its unusually bushy tail just obscured behind it.
Its bright red and white fur gleamed in the unnatural radiance as brightly as its eyes had, but now, with the
angle of the light slightly altered, the glow was gone from those eyes, and Jubee could see that they were
large and deeply golden.
For a moment Jubee was paralyzed by the sight, and then she let go of one last sob, the light was
extinguished, and she turned and ran.
Behind her the fox broke into a run as well, its path cutting a slightly different angle than Jubee’s, its feet
more sure, its speed far greater than her own.
*****************
When at last Jubee stumbled out of the forest and back into the Temple’s clearing, her path determined
almost entirely by blind instinct, her feet were a painful, bloody mess, and her face was transfigured by dirt
and tears.
Barely able to cross the last few feet to the door, her vision was so blurred that the candlelight within
seemed to her an ethereal fire sent to consume the world. When, upon the steps, she lost her footing and fell,
the arms which caught her, lifted her, and carried her inside seemed sent from a fever dream, the barely
recognizable face before her like that of a disfigured angel.
I’m still dreaming, she thought. This has all been a dream. I never woke up the first time at all. I wonder if I
am awake now.
She continued to cry for several minutes, but she did so quietly, and from time to time gentle hands wiped
away her tears and brushed her hair out of her face. The same gentle hands brought water in a basin and
cleaned her feet before wrapping them in soft bandages.
All the while there was silence in the Temple- the silence of the void, of the night, of the forest, until at last
her face was cleaned and her feet were wrapped. And then the gentle hands took her own, and she let them,
but she didn’t look up.
“I’m sorry Jubee. I didn’t think you would….…” A sigh. “I thought I would be on my way by the time you
woke. But you came to only a short time after I… I left. I heard your voice calling for me. I could tell you
were following me. I came back because I didn’t want you to get hurt…”
She paused for a moment.
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
Jubee’s voice was small when she spoke.
“Why did you leave me? Why didn’t you tell me you were going?”
For several moments both were quiet.
“I’m back now Jubee. I’m not leaving you. I’m not going anywhere without you, ever again.”
“But you did.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Philo moved, taking a place beside Jubee, and tentatively putting her arms around her. Jubee allowed it, but
did not relax. She was shaking slightly.
When next Philo spoke, her voice was almost too soft to hear, and there was something not unlike fear in it.
“A long time ago, Jubee, I almost lost you. I know you don’t remember what happened. For a long time
after you woke up, you didn’t remember anything at all. You didn’t speak, and I don’t even think you knew
who I was.
I was more afraid then than I had ever been in my life.
I remember the first time, after you were hurt, that you opened your eyes. It had taken everything I knew
and everything I had to save you. And when I saw that you were going to live, when I sat there beside you,
looking down into your eyes, I thought: this can never happen again.
I promised myself, in that moment, that I would protect you at all costs, that I would do anything, give
anything, to make up for not having been strong enough to keep you from getting hurt in the first place.”
Jubee was stunned. In all of the years that they had been together, neither of them had ever spoken of these
things. The linear course of their life together had been measured a day at a time from an unmarked genesis,
and both of them had always been content to let it remain so, avoiding the matter with the resolve of a silent
pact. For the first time she realized that it was a pact forged in fear- fear of the unknown and fear of the
truth.
Her own memories of those earliest days after her “awakening” were vague, and before that there was
nothing. In fact, she didn’t even know precisely how she had become “injured.”. With patience and
gratitude she had always simply struggled to achieve the next step in her recovery, trusting to the miracles
of time and love that all would one day be healed and that eventually she might remember.
It had been a long time, she knew, before she had been able to take care of herself. There had been so many
things she could not do, so many things that had been new and alien to her, and Philo had shown her, taught
her, walked her through it all.
For years before they had settled at the Temple, the two had wandered the Misamee together, and in all of
that time Jubee had been content, her heart full, the bond between her and Philo growing ever stronger. So
rarely had she wanted for anything. So rarely had she felt fear or loneliness.
Yes, I have been protected, she thought, but maybe too much, and maybe from the wrong things.
And now, tonight, everything had changed so quickly. She listened, as Philo continued, trying to understand
how and why.
“I used to be afraid that you would ask me about things before you were hurt. I never wanted to hide it from
you, but I was always grateful, I think, that we never spoke of it. I think I wanted to believe that everything
that had happened was over and done. As long as I didn’t think about it and you couldn’t remember it, it
would be buried, gone, as if it had never been. But it isn’t buried, Jubee. It isn’t over. It was never finished.
And I think I always knew that too.
Philo’s right hand disengaged from Jubee’s left and briefly touched her cheek.
“You’ve always been so good to me. You will never know what you have meant to me. I couldn’t live
without you. But things are changing, now, and there are things I have to do. I have to finish something that
I started a long time ago, and if I don’t, I’m afraid that everyone, everyone in the Misamee, will suffer for it.
I know you can’t understand that. I used to think it was better that way, but maybe it isn’t. When I told you
this morning here at the Temple, and later at the Meeting Hall, that we needed to talk, I meant it. I was
resolved to tell you everything. But after the message… it was like the nightmares had just crystallized or
come to life. Everything I had feared was suddenly real. And just as suddenly I didn’t want to tell you
anything. I just wanted to shelter you from it all as best I could…
But from now on, Jubee, there is nothing you cannot ask of me that I will not tell you…
You wanted to know why I was leaving…”
But before she could finish, Jubee put a finger to Philo’s lips, silencing her.
The tears were coming again, but this time they seemed not to obscure her vision so much as clear it.
“You didn’t want me to get hurt again, like before. I understand that. And if you are going somewhere that I
cannot go, or somewhere that you will not take me, then I will accept this, as long as you understand that
there is nothing that you can protect me from that would be worse than losing you. Especially if I don’t
even know why.”
“I do understand, Jubee. I don’t think I did before tonight, but I do now. I promise you. I will not leave you,
again.”
For a while they sat side by side, sharing their warmth in the glow of the candles, recovering from wounds
both old and new, and drawing strength from one other. More was said in this time, without words, than
when they had spoken openly, and they both knew this.
Both of them knew, too, that there were questions yet to be answered, that the uncertainties of the day to
come would have to be faced. But now was not the time. They were both too tired, too raw, to carry on
further.
Rising, finally, they returned to their mats, and this time both laid down together, Philo taking Jubee in her
arms. As exhaustion once more enveloped and overcame her, in the darkest depths of her heart, Jubee
wondered fleetingly if Philo would be there in the morning when she woke.
And from behind her, almost as if she her thoughts had been audible, she heard Philo whisper,
“Yes. I will.”
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