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THE ANDROGYNOUS STONE: CHAPTER SIX

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Sara had fainted in all the confusion and Sam clung to her for dear life as Suskatee ran down the empty street at break neck speed and turned the corner that he and Falderod had disappeared behind earlier. He stopped in front of a building that, from the smell of it, was obviously a stable, and gently deposited his burden on the ground.

The doors burst open and out walked Falderod with the smiling Chelsey at his side. “Well, I hope you’re satisfied, my young ruffian,” he said none to kindly, “thanks to your little foray into the local tavern, we shall have to vacate these premises much sooner than expected.”

Falderod turned and led them into the stable as he continued his chastisement, “Master Sentar, should he survive, will be none to happy about the destruction of his establishment, and I for one, have no desire to suffer incarceration, due to your unfortunate decision to take such a lovely, young lady into a den of iniquity and then allow her to roam free. My God man, what were you thinking, ?”

Sam was completely taken aback by the oral trashing he was receiving and was about to say so when Falderod continued. “I took the liberty to have Chelsey remove your travel packs during your unfortunate adventure,” he said pointing to the two packs leaning against the wall.

Sam just stood there, still holding the now rousing Sara and staring dumbfounded at the little leprechaun, as Falderod continued. “We will leave this humble constituency at dark. Till then, my friends, make yourselves at home as we don’t dare to show our faces in the light of day.” And with that final word, he walked to the other side of the building, laid down in a pile of hay and was almost instantly asleep.

Chelsey walked up to Sam, and clapping him on the back, said, “Not bad fer a amateur. I’m thinkin’ ya might just survive this here quest o’ ours, after all.” Sara was rapidly coming around, so Sam moved to put her down on another pile of soft hay as Chelsey continued, “As you kin see, friend, iffin ya needs me, I’ll be there fer ya.” He gave Sam another one of his buck-toothed smiles and turned to go join Falderod.

Sara sat up and rubbed her head. She was looking around in an obvious state of confusion when Sam sat next to her and said, “It’s alright, Sara. You’re safe now. Suskatee came and saved us just in time.”

“What happened, Sam, “she said as she ran her fingers through her hair.

“Well,” said Sam, “you were dancing when a huge man grabbed you and…”

“No,” she cut in angrily, “What happened to my beautiful hair!” Sam just stared at her in exasperation. How could she be concerned about her hair at a time like this, he thought. He looked her in the eye and said, “Sara, you were almost raped and killed!”

“Yea,” she said, “but what happened to my hair!”

Sam threw up his hands, “WOMEN,” he said, and then he realized what he had just said. He busted out in gales of uncontrollable laughter as the wild eyed Sara stared in disgust.

“It’s not funny, you oaf,” she said as she slapped him hard across the face, stood up and went to find solace amongst the other members of the party.

Sam watched her go and then suddenly burst out in laughter again. This whole situation was crazy and he needed to release some tension before he exploded. If you looked at it the right way, it was pretty funny, and it sure felt good to laugh. He was still chuckling to himself when he fell off to sleep.

The dream came once more, but this time, the tornado was a huge water spout just off the shore of the ice covered landscape, on which Sam now stood, sword in hand, awaiting the arrival of his arch nemesis. There was no one else in sight, and once again, Sam felt the futility of his situation. How could he possibly hope to prevail against such a powerful and unsubstantial foe.

“I’m standing here, like an idiot,” Sam thought, “with a sword in my hand, while a whirlwind of water crashes toward me. And, as if it had a consciousness, I can feel it’s hatred, and resolution to destroy me. As the giant spout of power sped unerringly towards him, Sam looked around once more for the help that he knew would not be forthcoming.

Suddenly, on the horizon, he saw a figure approaching. As Sam watched expectantly, he recognized the unmistakable, lumbering form of Suskatee. Faithful Suskatee, coming to save him once again, but this time, even the loyal giant would be to late, and if he continued on at his present pace, he would not be able to escape the same fate that rushed towards the doomed Sam.

“SUSKATEE, GO BACK,” Sam yelled at his friend, waving his arms frantically. “GO BACK, GO BACK AND SEEK COVER, OR WE’LL BOTH BE KILLED!” But the faithful, gentle giant kept on coming. Sam couldn’t bare the thought of this noble man dying in vain, in an attempt to save him from the fury, that would all too soon be here.

Sam turned to look at the water spout and realized that he had only seconds to live. “SUSKATEE, NO, GO BACK, PLEASE, GO BACK,” but his voice was drowned out by the roar of the wind now bearing down on him. The force hit him like a locomotive. He was instantly drenched and driven to the ground. The air was moving too fast for him to even breath. He started to lose consciousness as he felt himself being picked up by the torrent, and slammed around as if he weighed nothing at all.

This was the end.

“SUSKATEE, NO,” he tried one last time to warn his friend and then…

“Awaken my young friend, I am here,” said Suskatee from somewhere. “Be not afraid, for it was but a dream.” Sam’s eyes flew open and he looked around frantically. There was Suskatee, kneeling at his side, an intense look of concern on his face. “I am here, my friend, all is well,” and somehow, Sam knew that as long as this marvel of the gods was close by, that all would be well, and his fear dissipated just as a wave retreats back down the beach to the sea, but just like the wave, it would be back. Of this, Sam was sure. There was relevance to these dreams. What relevance he didn’t know, but they were all to frequent and all too powerful to be figments of his imagination.

“It’s time,” said Suskatee as he rose to awaken the others.

Sam sat up and looked around once more. It was dark in the stable and Sam assumed that it must be dark outside as well. Chelsey was sitting up also and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Falderod was nowhere to be seen, but Sam knew, that was too good to be true. He’d be here any minute to ruin the rest of the night, if not his life.

Suskatee had also awoken Sara, and was now saddling the horses for the soon to be escaping company of wanted vandals.

“Let us be gone, my friends,” said Falderod as he entered through a side door, “the quest awaits no one.” He was carrying a rucksack under his arm as he approached Sam. “And how are you my androgynous ruffian,” he said with a tone of sarcasm that couldn’t be missed. “I have here some things that you will undoubtedly need before our adventure is done.” He laid the sack at Sam’s feet and turned to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “Not to worry, my friend, you’ll know what to do when the time comes.” And with that he moved over to consult with Suskatee, as he finished loading the horses with the supplies that had been stacked in the corner and hidden under the hay.

Sam just shook his head. What had he ever done to deserve this? How had he gotten himself involved in this lunacy, in the first place, and how was he going to get out of it? And what did they expect from him, anyway?

He glanced at the rucksack at his feet, “Well, might as well see what new surprises the little munchkin has brought me this time,” he thought as he reached to open the curiously shaped backpack. It was about three and a half feet long and a foot wide, with a single, adjustable, two inch thick shoulder strap and a beautiful engraved silver buckle. The sack was made entirely of a soft, but rugged seeming, oiled leather. Inside, Sam found a short ash bow and a quiver of arrows that were all neatly fitted into the interior of the rucksack. It had an ornately hand carved, tie down, flap, presumably to keep them dry.

Turning the pack over, Sam found a three foot rapier, in an ingeniously attached scabbard that could be left on the rucksack and drawn over the shoulder, or removed and worn on a belt around the waist.

The sword was a work of art. The double edged, razor sharp, thin blade, seemed almost fragile, as it reflected the light from the lantern that Suskatee had lit, and culminated in a finger fitted, silver hilt. The blade and hilt were separated by a curious basket guard that precisely duplicated the intricate spider web pattern on Sam’ necklace. The two were definitely linked somehow and Sam was sure he would find out how, before too long.

Upon further inspection, inside the sack, Sam found a belt with a twelve inch, razor sharp, dagger, which seemed to be a miniature version of the rapier.

Sam removed the belt and stood up to strap it on, with the dagger attached, leaving the Sword sheath on the rucksack, to be worn over the shoulder. Strangely, Sam felt very familiar with this set of weapons, almost as if they had always belonged to him, and somehow, he felt that if the need should arise, he would know what to do with them, as well.

He was admiring the workmanship of the sword and running his fingers over the intricate inscriptions on the blade when he noticed Falderod watching him intently. “Why can’t I read what this says, old man.” Sam asked irritably, feeling somehow that he should know what it said. “Its the strangest thing,” he said, “I feel as though I’ve owned these things, all my life, and yet I know I’ve never seen them before. They feel right, in my hand, ” Sam held the sword up to the light and continued, “And this inscription. Somehow, I know that it pertains to me, but I can’t read it at all. It’s as if it’s in some never before seen language, not meant for human understanding.”

“Aye lad,” said Falderod, “You’re closer to the truth than you know.” He walked over to where Sam was inspecting the blade and continued, “These weapons have been yours since the creation of the stones. They are inseparably linked to the keeper of the Androgynous Stone.” Falderod leaned down, retrieved the Rucksack and held it up for Sam to see. “These strange runes are in the language of the creators of the stones,” he said. “No one, of this earth, knows what it really says, but it is plain that all of this belongs to the keeper of the Androgynous Stone. You feel like they are yours, because in essence, they are, and always have been.”

Falderod paused to look at the others and ascertain their progress towards preparing for their departure as if he were anxious to be gone from this place. Clearly he felt the need to be on the road in pursuit of their quest. Sam wondered what the hurry was, but instinctively knew, that now was not the time to ask. Falderod would divulge information as he saw fit, and nothing was going to change that.

“In the home city of Glendamere, where I reside,” said Falderod, “we have many such artifacts in our safekeeping. We bring them forth and deliver them at need.” He looked wistfully at the closed barn doors and said, “Ah, Glendamere. It has been many years since I have beheld it’s glory.” He looked again at Sam as he said, “Glendamere shall be our first stop on this quest to save the earth. We shall need many things harbored in Glendamere, not the least of which is advice and wisdom.”

Falderod turned away and walked back to where the rest of the company was awaiting instructions. “Let us be off, my fellow comrades,” and again he looked at Sam and quoted, “Places to go and people to see, and miles to go before I sleep.” He smiled and said, “that is the way it goes, is it not, Sam?.” And as they all mounted up, he turned and said, “Suskatee, if you please. Would you be so kind as to lead the way?”

Suskatee turned without a word, walked to the huge double doors, pushed them open effortlessly and jogged into the night with the small company of would be heroes struggling to catch up to the swift footed giant.

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THE ANDROGYNOUS STONE: CHAPTER SEVEN

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The moon was a bright, smiling face, lighting the way and watching over the small company in their escape from the sleepy little town of Berlanta. A million tiny, twinkling stars added their brilliance to the blackness of a sky that was completely devoid of clouds. There was a distinct chill in the air, the promise of a season to come. Winter was not far away. Soon this entire part of the world would be blanketed in snow, making the traveling slow and uncomfortable.

“Fine time to be traipsing about the countryside,” thought Falderod as he led his companions out of the light and into the gloom of the thick forests beyond the outskirts of town. There was a fine, misty fog hovering a few feet above the ground, giving the forest an eerie, forbidding feel, that reminded Falderod of a story he had read in Sam’s world, about a headless horseman and Ichabod Crane. Only he knew their final destination and the thought made him shiver, as he pulled his course, black traveling cloak tightly about himself. “This is going to be a long, hard, miserable ride,” he thought, “Why couldn’t it be summer?”

They were clear of the town now. Suskatee had slowed his pace to an long easy stride and still the horses had to canter to keep up. “Slow down, my friendly giant,” Falderod yelled at their massive point man. “You’ll have all our teeth jarred lose by the time we reach our camp. We’ve plenty of time,” he said, “and no doubt, will have ample opportunity, and need, for speed in the days ahead.”

They continued on for what seemed to Sam like hours on end. The dark forest trail little more than a black crease in the thick woods that bordered the road on both sides. Only an occasional glimpse of the starlit skies above the trees that shrouded their path, gave any variation to the dark foggy blanket in which they rode.

Suddenly, Suskatee came to a dead halt, surprising the riders into a mass collision, that resembled nothing less than the chain reactions found on the freeways of Sam’s world. Sam’s horse reared, jumped out of line and tried to bolt. He immediately pulled hard on the left rein, circling the horse until he had calmed down and stood still, pawing at the ground nervously. It had all happened so fast that Sam had not had time to think about it. He now sat there on the still quivering mount, wondering how he had known how to bring the hysterical horse back under control again. He had had little previous experience with horses, and yet it had felt natural, as though he’d been in the saddle all his life. Just another temper tantrum from a familiar source. Nothing to worry about.

Sam suddenly realized, that something else was wrong. All of his companions were staring up the road beyond where Suskatee had stopped. Suskatee, himself, had resumed the fierce countenance that Sam had witnessed in ‘The Spotted Owl’. There was something in the road ahead and it appeared that the giant didn’t like it.

Sam peered into the gloom ahead, and at first, could see nothing out of the ordinary. And then out of the fog walked a solitary figure. In the darkness, Sam could not make out the features of this sudden apparition. It appeared to be tall and lean with an array of shadowy weapons bristling all around it’s dark form. A slight growl emitted from Suskatee’s throat as he crouched slightly, ready to spring to the defense of his companions.

The figure slinked forward in an obviously defensive manner and just as Suskatee was about to pounce, Falderod yelled “Hold Suskatee, tis friend not foe.”

The ominous figure continued to move forward out of the fog and in a light and beautiful voice said, “Hail, Falderod, keeper of the red, well met, if but a bit earlier than expected.”

“Hail, Sandrok,” replied their leader, “well met, indeed.”

As the tall figure approached, Sam was shocked as the night revealed the form of a tall, buxom and incredibly beautiful women, dressed all in dark green. From tight fitting tunic, to green leggings and long traveling cloak, she appeared to belong to the forest. Even the impressive array of weaponry appeared to be green. One could imagine her standing just off the path, passing right by and missing her altogether.

Sandrok lowered her hood and shook her head, revealing shoulder length, golden blond hair, with a sheen that seemed to shine like the sun, even in the darkness of this gloomy forest. As she approached, Sam could see the delicate chiseled features of her face. She had beautiful emerald green eyes accented by high thin eyebrows with a delicate nose with a full lipped smile that bespoke immediately of friendship and compassion.

If Sam had been confused by his aroused feelings for Sara, he was bedeviled by this greeneyed goddess of the woodland.

“How long have you been about,” asked Falderod as he stepped down from his horse and reached out to clasp the hand of the green warrior princess.

” I came as soon as I got your message, my friend,” said Sandrok. “I’ve been lurking in the shadows for nigh on two weeks now, but I didn’t expect you for a few more days.” She glanced up at Sam with a curious look that made him feel very uneasy and turned back to Falderod, saying “It was my understanding that you were to spend some time in Berlanta educating our would be savior.” The way she said it left no doubt as to how she felt about Sam’s part in this adventure.

“Yes, yes, that had been the original plan,” said Falderod glancing over his shoulder at the troupe in tow, “but our over zealous companions saw fit to incite a riot at the ‘Spotted Owl’, forcing our hasty retreat. Thank the Stones, that you were arrived early and could join us in our flight from incarceration, for your help will be sorely needed before our trek is at an end.”

“Come down, my friends, and meet Sandrock of the Shintalley Nations,” Falderdod turned and, grabbing the reins of his horse, walked into the forest as the others dismounted and followed. All except Suskatee.

During this entire encounter, the friendly giant had stood apart from the rest, never quite standing down his combative posture from the moments before Falderods recognition of the tall warrior.

“What’s wrong with Suskatee,” Sam asked Chelsey as they lead their horses into the clearing, on the other side of the trees that were lining the road. “She be a Shintalley,” said Chelsey as if that should explain it all. “So, what’s wrong with the Shintalleys,” Sam asked. Chelsey might have saved their lives back at the tavern, but he could be very irritating in his demeanor. “Oh, it ain’t the what, that’s the matter, it’s the who,” said Chelsey as if he were talking to some poor retarded child. “Everybody knows them Hemolites don’t like the Shintalley. Seems the Shintalley is the only ones that the Hemolites has ever ruckused with and lost.” They stopped at a low cropping of bushes and tied their horses up next to Falderods and Sara’s. “Been bad blood tween em’ ever since memory serves.”

They walked to the center of the clearing where Falderod and Sandrok were talking. “Where’s Sara, ” asked Sam. “She’s collecting wood for our fire,” said Falderod. “We’ll camp here for the remainder of this night and continue our journey towards my homeland, on the morrow. Sam my, good man, May I present Sandrok, warrior princess and woodsperson extraordinaire of the Shintalley Nations. Her people have lived to serve and protect our land since time immemorial and have always been at the beck and call of my order and yours. When the need calls, they have always sent their best.” Sandrok stared at Sam, for a moment, as if measuring his worth and thereby her need to be there, and suddenly, leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips. “Well met indeed, Sir Sam,” she said as she released the astonished and furiously blushing young man. “My people have long awaited your arrival. I have examined you and found you to be fit. You are indeed ‘the one’. Let us hope you have come in time.” And with that, she turned and disappeared into the forest, that seemed to have spawned her.

“Don’t look so shocked, my lovesick puppy,” said Falderod with a chuckle. “In different times, had you been born of this world, Sandrock would have been your life’s mate. Her people, as I have said, are the protectors of our land, and the keeper of the Androgynous Stone, you my good man, are their undisputed leader. Sandrok, as the daughter of their queen, would have married you. The only male warrior, in their eyes, worthy of such an honor and revered by all in the Shintalley Nations.”

Falderod stepped around Sam and walked to the horses to get some gear for their camp, and as Sam turned to watch him go, he noticed Sara standing a few feet away with an armload of dead branches. She had a stricken look on her face as if her whole world had just collapsed. The sunshine had gone out of her face and the clouds had moved in. There was definitely a storm brewing. She walked up to Sam, looked him in the eye and dumped the whole load of deadwood on his feet. “You’re all alike,” she screamed at him as she slapped him hard and strode away into the darkness, crying.

“I knowed that’n be trouble,” said Chelsey as he deposited his armload of firewood next to the still covered feet of the now completely confused Sam. He bent and arranged a few of the twigs and pulled out his knife and flint. “Lessen you wanna be endin’ it all, in a puff of smoke, reckon you oughta move.” Sam looked down at the little rat face just in time to see a small flame rise from the pile and flicker eagerly in his direction. He jumped away and glared angrily at the little rodent who was doubled over with laughter.

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THE ANDROGYNOUS STONE: CHAPTER EIGHT

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It was a long cold night for Sam, and it wasn’t just the weather. Sara had come back into camp about a hour later with puffy eyes and a demeanor that said very clearly, “Stay away from me if you want to survive this night,” so the company left her alone and she spent the night in seclusion, occasionally glancing over at Sam, with tears in her eyes one minute, and daggers the next. Sam wasn’t exactly sure what he had done, but he was wise enough to know that now was not the time to try and find out. He busied himself with helping to put together the camp and make dinner for the company.

Sandrok had not come back by the time they were ready to eat. Falderod explained that she would likely be out all night scouting ahead and would join them again on the road tomorrow. This seemed to suit Suskatee just fine, as he had joined the companions shortly after Sandrok had left. The big man took his meal and moved to the edge of the firelight to stand watch, as the rest gathered around the camp fire, enjoying it’s warmth, and eating in silence.

It was a simple fare of beans, travel bread and dried meat, but it hit the spot. There was plenty to fulfil the hunger of the ravenous group of travelers, and afterward, they sat around the fire enjoying the bottle of wine, that had suddenly been produced by the grinning Botack, and leisurely discussed the road ahead.

“On the morrow,” said Falderod, “We shall collect our belongings and depart for my beloved Glendamere.” He got that far-away look in his eyes again as he spoke, as if to himself, of his home city.

“Ah, Glendamere, how I have missed you all these years. Your golden spires and cobbled streets, truly a thing of beauty to behold.” Falderod, seemed suddenly to realize that there where other people around, as he turned his attention once again to Sam. “You see, my young hero, it was given unto me the responsibility of keeping you safe. As events progressed toward the present situation, I was sent to your time to watch over you and gather you in at needs be. That was over ten years ago, my friend, and I have not seen my beloved Glendamere since.”

“You mean to tell me,” said Sam, “that you have been following me around for ten years?”

“Yes, Sam, I have been your guardian angel, protecting you from harm for more than a decade now.” Falderod smiled that crooked little demonic smile of his and said, “I’ve not only been watching over you, my young conscript, but unbeknownst to you, I’ve also, been training you for this adventure, for most of your adulthood.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Sam. “How could you possibly have trained me for anything, when I’ve never seen you before yesterday.”

“Things are not always as they seem, my friend,” said Falderod. “Think back with me now, Sam. Do you remember about ten years ago when you had the sudden urge to learn fencing? And the Year in college that you decided to take archery, instead of Golf with all of your friends.

“You have been trained the whole of your life to prepare for this moment in time. Before my tutelage, the responsibility had fallen to your father. Your father was a good man and a good friend as well.”

“My father!” exclaimed Sam, “What does my father have to do with any of this?”

“Think Sam, think,” said the old wizard. “The stones, as I’ve already told you, are passed from generation to generation. Only the bloodline of the original holders can use the individual stones. Whom do you suppose would have wielded the Androgynous Stone before you? Although I have kept the stone safe for all these years, it has always been only the members of your lineage that could use it.”

Sam stared at Falderod as if he’d lost his mind. “But my father, that’s impossible. He loved me. He would have told me. I don’t believe you, he would never have deceived to me,”

“Calm down Sam,” said Falderod reaching up to pull Sam back down as he tried to rise and walk away. “Your father was one of the finest humans I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He and I were very close. He was like a son to me and his passing left a hole in my life as large as the one in yours.” Falderod patted Sam’s arm to calm him down as he continued his explanation to the outraged young keeper of the ‘Stone’. “Your father, Sam, was born of our world not yours. His father and his father’s father and all of your ancestors since the time of the great intervention, have been the keepers of the Androgynous Stone. I had the privilege of training your father in the ways of the stone, and in the interim, he and I became very close.

“About 30 years past, now, it started to become apparent that there was a problem brewing, and it was at that time, that the decision was made to send your father and his wife to a safe place in time.”

“His WIFE,” exclaimed Sam, “please don’t tell me that my mother was in on this, too.”

“Ah, my young friend, don’t look so shocked,” said Falderod through a big smile. “Your lovely mother was also of our world, as would you have been had we waited another few months to send them hence.” Falderod stirred the fire with a stick, sending a great cloud of sparks, rising and dancing into the air only to wink out suddenly and disappear. “Your parents made a great sacrifice in leaving everything they knew and loved to go to that other place in time. Your time, Sam. The day I bid your parents farewell, I feared that I would not live to see them again. It was one of the saddest days of my life. You see Sam, it was believed that there would be no need for the Androgynous Stone in our lifetimes. Your bloodline was sent to the past to flourish in safety, so that If ever there was need, there would always be a blue stone available.

“About ten years ago, we learned that your father was ill. It was at the time of his first heart attack, I’m sure you remember. That was the first time I met you, Sam. It was I who was sent to do what I could. I was the doctor in the hospital that cared for your father. With the help of the ‘Healing Stone’, I was able to save your father’s life, but alas, the damage had already been done to his heart and it was just a matter of time before he succumbed to the inevitable.”

Falderod looked Sam square in the eye and said, “Do you not recognize me now, Sam. It was I who was your fathers Heart specialist for the next five years. I was at his side, with you and your dear departed mother, that fateful day when he passed into the void, beyond all mortal help. I knew then that she would follow shortly. A greater love than theirs, the world has never known. To have been torn from her own world, and then to lose the only stability she had in that foreign land, was just too much for her. I knew I had to stay and take up where your sainted father had left off.”

Falderod had taken out a bright pink silk handkerchief and was dabbing at he wet eyes. “Twas your mothers decision that I stay in the background and continue your education from a distance. She felt that the trauma of the truth would be more than you could bare, so soon after the loss of your father. I tried to convince her that you had your fathers strength, but, in the end, I was forced to agree and abide by her wishes. It was, I fear, left to me to instruct you, by implanting thoughts and desires through the use of the red stone.

All the stones are connected, Sam, and one can communicate with the keeper of any of the other stones. You need not have the stone in your possession for it to communicate with you. The stones know their masters, and upon your fathers death, you became the master of The Androgynous Stone. It was, therefore, a simple task to make you think that these thoughts were your own. Manipulation is a nasty business, and I must admit, I have always felt a bit guilty for it, but I did promise your dear sainted mother. She had intended to tell you herself after a time, but somehow, never got around to it. And then, her sudden demise put it on my small shoulders to explain this big tale, and guide you to your destiny.”

Chelsey had retired to his blankets, having finished off most of the bottle by himself, as was the general practice of his kind. A drunkin’ Botock was a common enough occurrence and no one seemed to notice as he stumbled off to bed and started snoring like a rutting warthog.

Suskatee continued his vigil. Whether watching for danger or for Sandrok, Sam could only guess.

Falderod had become very quiet, lost in his memories of the painful past. “He seems so sincere,” thought Sam, “that I have to believe him,” and yet this was the strangest tale that he had ever heard. They both sat in silence for a long time, staring at the flames and lost in their own thoughts. Falderod had given Sam a lot to think about, but the biggest question of all had not yet been answered.

“Exactly, what am I doing here, Falderod,” asked Sam, though he was really not sure that he wanted the old leprechaun to answer.

“Well, my inquisitive young friend,” said Falderod coming out of his reverie, “to answer that question, we shall have to go back to the beginning.” Falderod reached for a nearby pack, propped it against the tree directly behind him and leaned against it. “Make yourself comfortable, my friend, it is a very long story.”

Sam grabbed his own pack and bedroll and got comfortable as Falderod began to relate yet another incredible tale of the events that led to this point in time.

“I’ve already told you of the origin of the stones and how they relate to you, however I have yet to relate the story of the third stone.

“Of the red and blue stones, you already have knowledge. There are many of each scattered about the world. Of the white stones, the stones of knowledge, there were only three. These stones were a gift to mankind by the intergalactic consortium to help us progress at a faster rate of evolution than would normally be possible. The stones allowed their owners brief glimpses into the possible futures allowing them to help Mankind survive, through scientific advancement. They were intended to give progressive information as mankind was ready to receive it. This, I believe, was a kind of conscience soother for the consortium. They believed that they could control our advancement through the use of the White stones and yet still allow mankind to reach for its place, within the ranks of the other planets, in a much shorter time than would normally be required for the evolution of a species.

“There was, however, one thing that had not occurred to them, and it may yet prove to be a fatal mistake for all of mankind.”

Falderod paused and reached for a burning stick to light the pipe he had been packing with some strange yellow herb. As he lit the pipe, the smoke drifted towards Sam, and the most delightful aroma that Sam had ever smelled overwhelmed his senses. He suddenly had a feeling of euphoria. He was at piece with the world and himself and yet, there was no feeling of incapacitation. Sam knew, that if necessary, he could react to any situation, as needed. He just felt good! Without a care in the world, he just lay there and listened as Falderod continued with his story of the white stone.

“It seems,” said Falderod, “that the aliens had never before encountered an atmosphere exactly as our own. You see, the digressive agent, that the federation of planets injected into the core of our world had an unforeseen effect on the atmosphere of our planet. The gases, from the burning of the contaminated fossil fuels, started collecting near the north pole and then, started eating a hole in our atmospheres protective shield, where the gases escaped into space, leaving the arctic inhabitants protected from further contamination by the de-evolutionary process.

“Now, as it happens, the Arctic, at that time, was populated by a nomadic, tribal people called Eskimos, who where almost completely devoid of modern technology and kept largely to themselves. Although peaceful by nature, they were considered backward and barbaric by most civilized peoples of the world.

“But as mankind began to digress, The peoples of the Arctic region continued to evolve. Within a few thousand years, they were the most advanced people on the planet.

“As fate would have it, one of the three White Stones was in the hands of a family that lived in the Arctic region. As the Stones were all designed to self activate, once mankind stopped using the fossil fuels and the gasses dissipated, and since the gases dissipated rapidly in the Arctic region, once the hole in the ozone appeared, it was not long before the keepers of the Arctic White, where able to utilize it’s power. This small group of people soon became a society of scientists, dedicated to the advancement of knowledge, and, for the most part, continued to keep to themselves, content with their lot in life. They created a world of their own under the ice and named it ‘Abernasia’. Through their scientific observations, they were able to keep an eye on the rest of the world and, although they had no idea why, they became aware of the fact that the rest of the world’s inhabitants were in a state of degradation, while they alone continued to evolve. So, they contented themselves with developing their little world under the ice and leaving the rest of mankind to it’s own devices. That is at least, until now.

“As with the other stones, the white stones must be handed down from generation to generation. Only the bloodline of the original keeper holds power over each stone. The most recent keeper of the Arctic White is ‘Dragmont’.

“At some point in time, the Abernasians realized that the rest of mankind had started evolving again, but still preferred to keep to themselves, feeling that fraternizing with such and inferior segment of their race was beneath them and might deplete the gene pool at large. There were not many of them to begin with, only a few thousand, and they knew that if the rest of mankind was to become aware of them, it would destroy their civilization as they knew it. So, they hid from us and lived in anonymity.

Dragmont, as a boy, became obsessed with the outside world and often dreamed of lying on sandy beaches with the real sun beating down on his bare skin. He envied the rest of mankind their trees and wildlife, for while his people had created a very comfortable existence under the ice, they had very little foliage and only the animals that had lived in the arctic or had migrated there form other lands. Through genetic alterations, they had created a unique animal kingdom of their own, designed specifically for their underground world.

“But Dragmont was not content with his lot in life and realized early on that with their advanced technology, they could, and he believed, should rule the entire world.

“At the time of the alien intrusion on mankind, some of the military powers were using areas of the Arctic as warehouses to stockpile nuclear weapons. These weapons had long since been forgotten by mankind, although they do still exist. At some point, the Abernasians discovered them and, through their scientific experiments with these nuclear devices, they discovered nuclear power, the source that now powers all of Abernasia. The citizens of Abernasia have never been a violent people and would never think of using the power source that they hold for a means of destruction. They dismantled the warheads and utilized the plutonium within, to power their underground city.

“We have known, through the stones, of the existence of the Abernasians for centuries. We were aware of their scientific prowess, but also of their docile nature. Preferring to evolve at our own rate, and knowing of their desire to stay segregated, we have left well enough alone, until now. Recently, when Dragmont’s father died and he came into power, the stones warned us of the possibilities that we now face. Dragmont’s lifelong obsession to rule the world and leave the ice has finally affected his better judgement

“Dragmont has discovered how to reassemble the missiles and use them, and is now using that threat in an attempt to take over the world. Although he knows how to use the missiles and realizes their potential destructive power, he does not understand the consequences.

At the first sign of nuclear blast, the Galactic Federation will destroy earth. As I told you in the Spotted Owl, there will not be a third chance to redeem ourselves!

Dragmont has been told this, but, for whatever reason, he refuses to believe it. In his megalomaniacal state, I believe he sees himself as invincible. Although the story of the alien insertion is common knowledge today, few actually believe it. Most see it as just another old wives tale to frighten children into submission. Yet I assure you, it is real and time is running out.

“Dragmont has contacted the leaders of the world and given them thirty days to comply with his wishes, at which time he threatens to start systematically wiping out the opposition. That, my friend, was nigh on to a fortnight ago.

“Armies are forming all over the world, Sam, for the people of our world are completely oblivious to the knowledge of nuclear power and therefore do not believe that Dragmont can defeat them, if they can but ban together as one. Therein lies our dilemma.

“Dragmont has no intention of destroying the world, for this is the one thing he desires most. His plan is just a demonstration, to frighten the leaders into submission. The true danger lies with the Aliens. One demonstration is all it will take and the world will be instantly vaporized.” Falderod sat back puffing on his pipe and watching Sam as he absorbed all that he had just heard.

“Why me,” said Sam. “Why can’t some of the other blue stone keepers take care of this. Surely they are better equipped to handle a situation like this, on their own world. I know nothing of your world, beyond what you have already told me. Why me? And what do you expect me to do about it?”

Falderod sat and stared at Sam for a long time, studying him, seeking to discover his state of mind. Now was not the time to tell him. In light of all that he had just learned, it might just push him over the edge. And yet, he had asked. How could he refuse to answer his questions. To not answer them could do more damage than the truth. His mind made up, Falderod faced Sam and told him. “You are the last, Sam.”

“What do you mean, the last,” replied Sam, a note of hysteria in his voice. “You just finished telling me that there were many other stones.”

“Calm down, my friend, and let me finish my tale.” Falderod leaned forward and placed a hand on Sam’s arm. “The telling will not be easy for me to tell nor for you to hear, but the truth is the truth and must be told.

“Both the blues and the whites offer their masters a certain amount of protection. While in possession to the stones, no one can cause a keeper violent harm. Only natural causes can harm the masters of the stones while they have them on their person. Also, no one can force a keeper to give up their stone. They must be put aside voluntarily.

“All of the stones are a threat to Dragmont. The whites for obvious reasons of competition, but the blues have a special power over all of the rest. Only the blue stones can negate the protective forces of the whites.

“Over the years, Dragmont has established an sizable army, equipped with the weapons unearthed from the military complexes where the missiles are stored. He has used various groups from his combat forces to capture the holders of the other stones. Since he cannot kill then conventionally, he has imprisoned them and is starving them to death. I fear that most of them have already succumbed to his madness.

“Likewise, He has sought out all of the heirs to the stones and destroyed them as well. Men, Women and children alike, all gone. So, you see, when I told you there were many of each, it was the truth, for there are still many stones. But, you Sam, are the last of the keepers.

“We have less than thirty days to stop this maniac or the Aliens will put an end to us all. Only you, my friend, can save us, for as long as Dragmont has possession of The Arctic White, no one but you can get through it’s defenses and put an end to this threat.”

“But how?” said Sam, wringing his hands nervously. “I know nothing of these things. Remember me? I’m just a mild mannered advertising executive, with an unfortunate love for antiques. How can you expect me to capture or destroy anyone, especially a man with Dragmont’s resources?” Sam looked up and in a pleading squeaky little voice said, ” You’ve got the wrong person, Falderod. Find someone else. Please. I can’t do this.”

Falderod just looked at Sam for a long time and then laid down and covered himself with his bed roll. As he rolled over and turned his back to Sam he said very softly, “I’m sorry Sam, you’re all we’ve got. When the time comes, you’ll be fine. You have to be,” and he didn’t say another word.

Sam just sat there staring at the fire, trying to lose himself in the flames. This had to be a bad dream. He was not a killer or a commando. How could he be expected to do this. And yet he believed the old man and knew that, somehow, he had to. He did remember him from the hospital when his dad had died. He remembered being held by the man as waves of tears flooded out in uncontrollable fits, while mourning his loss. Sam would never have made the connection, had the little man not brought it up, but it had unmistakably been Falderod.

Sam glanced around at the people in the camp. They were all counting on him. And not just them. All of the people in both this world and his were counting on him. Sam was no longer sure which world was his, but instinctively, he knew that if one ceased to exist, then the other would too.

Sam glanced over at Suskatee. The giant man stood like a tree in his vigil to protect his companions. Anything that wanted to harm them, had to get through Suskatee first. It was comforting to know that no matter what happened, Suskatee would be there to keep them safe. The thought made Sam smile, as he rolled up in his blanket and laid down his head to sleep. Tomorrow was another day. There was still time to figure it all out.

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