Disclaimer: Gargoyles and the Timedancer Saga do not belong to me.  They are the property
of Disney and Buena Vista Television., as are the characters of Brooklyn and Sata.
Sata belongs to the writers of the Timedancer Series and is used here for entertainment
purposes only. Inspiration for the title came the 1983 Duran-Duran Song from the ARENA album.
Part 6 of the series, the follow-up to Perchance to Dream"

            "Is  There Something I Should Know? by  Karen
 
    Massachusetts Bay Colony, 1692

        The glare of the magical time portal appeared in the sky, hovering a few feet above the
    deserted dirt road.  The road meandered south outside a small town of a few hundred souls.
    The Gate's by now familiar sphere of fire and color shimmered, then deposited its two passengers, and vanished.
    Having become used to this particular manifestation of the Gate's Power, Sata and Brooklyn found themselves
    in yet another strange place.  The gargoyles spread their wings to soften the landing, and tried to get their bearings.
 
        "Any idea where we are now?" Brooklyn, shaking his head.

        "No," Sata replied. "Let us see what Diamante's mirror says," the jade green gargoyle added.

      She pulled the gift from the Incan scyrer, whom they'd about two time jumps previous.
 
        "She said it would help give us some idea of our whereabouts in time and place."

        Sata removed the mirror glass from her pocket in her obi, in which her kaftan was also sheathed,
       and gently breathed on the mirror's surface.  The jade green gargoyles concentrated her thoughts
      to persuade the scrying glass to indicate their whereabouts.

      The seascape appeared, eventually blown away by the time winds, replaced by another image:
      A small village, a grouping of slat sided wooden houses all clustered together: shops, homes,
      a forge, a meeting hall, and its most dominant object by far,  a church with a spire surmounting its roof,
     climbing to the sky.  Then, the image vanished.  Sata pocketed the glass again.

    "Seems pretty clear that it's saying we should go there, and check this place out," Brooklyn observed.

        "Indeed.  But perhaps we need to..." she trailed off.

            "You know, Sata.  I've been thinking, that's its a good idea, splitting up the souvenirs we've
       collected on our travels.  I mean, I'm carrying the Phoenix Gate, while you carry the Sun amulet
       and the scyring glass; because they work better for you than they do for me. That way if we're
      ever separated...."

          "One person should not be responsible for the amulet, and as for the scrying glass, it does work
       better for me.  But do not talk that way about separating.  When I first met you in Japan, all
      these time jumps ago  I swore that we would travel this strange path, so do not even consider separating
     from me," Sata grinned mock severely.

        "Well,' when you put it that way, Sata-chan. See, even a gaijin is can learn a few things now and then.
    I guess you're right.  It was just a contingency plan, and not a very good one.  Besides, back when we were
    in Guatemala, you said 'with all the trinkets we've been picking up, I'd click when I walked.'" Brooklyn laughed.

        "Indeed, all this said 'clinking' would no doubt provide any opponent when an unnecessary warning before
    a battle.  Yes, trinkets are well and good,  Brooklyn-san,  but the best souvenir , are the memories
    of our travels together.  No matter what happens,  know that I do not regret a moment of our time together."

         "That means we're in this together. For the long haul. And right now, I can't think of anyone else I'd
    be willing to share this adventures than with you.  Sata,  I ,  I love you," Brooklyn said, as he pulled Sata closer
    and folded the jade green gargoyles up in his wings.

    ________
        Meanwhile, not far from the time-travellers, a forest clearing was presently occupied.  It was fenced around
    by ancient beech trees; their smooth, silvery trunks rising like gigantic columns that bore a thick canopy of
   foliage that let in a green twilight.  The forest floor was covered by brown leaves, and clear of any undergrowth.
   In the center a circle of women stood, they wore long, dark cloaks and held candles and incense.  The green
  light feel directly on the face of the circle's leader;  a tall woman about six feet, her cape fell almost to her ankles,
  and she wore some sort of golden tiara.  Had there been any passersby, they would have noticed that the cape
  didn't seem detachable.  The reflected light of the moon and bonfire glowed red in her eyes.  If any member of
  the Manhattan Clan of Gargoyles had been there, they would have no trouble recognizing a member of their clan
  who'd been exiled for betrayal almost 300 years previous, as Demona.
    *******
     A loud, cracking sound reached Brooklyn and Sata's ears, like someone or something trying to make
     headway despite obstacles in their path. Whoever it was, sounded like they were in a hurry. They broke
    off their embrace and took up alert stances on the side of the dirt road, wings outspread.

    A woman emerged from a bend in the road, from a southward direction.  Her clothes were torn and she
    flung her trailing, ripped cape off. It'd been picking up branches and dirt along the way, considerably hindering her
    forward movement.  The other thing that prevented her from making progress was the fact she kept craning her head
    around to check for pursuers.

        "Oh, hurry! Hurry! They're coming!" she moaned.

        "Whoa!  Who's coming?" Brooklyn wondered.

        "Indeed.  The young woman appears quite agitated," Sata agreed as the red light faded from her eyes.
        She started to sheath her sword. "I think we have found our reason for being in this particular time and place.
        But first things first, we must find out what the situation is," Sata said calmly. "May I help you?"  she said
       soothingly.  "What is your name. child?"

            "I didn't see you there.  Oh, I'm so turned about.  Is this the road that leads to Salem?"
           Could you please help me? My name is Rebecca," the woman replied, not seeming to be too concerned
            about the nature of her rescuers.

        "Of course we will,  Rebecca.  I am Sata. This is, Brooklyn.' gesturing a thumb in Brooklyn's direction.
        "Allow us to accompany you into town.  Once there, we will talk more, but this deserted road is no place
        to linger if you are in as much danger as you say."  Sata answered.

       The three, two assisting the other continued towards the lights of the town. Rebecca was limping
        having sprained her ankle on the last turn, made it back to her home. Her home was a small wooden
        building with potted plants outside on the porch, which made it more welcoming than its neighbors.

        "Are you sure it's safe to leave you here, Rebecca?" Brooklyn asked.

        "Yes. I will be fine. I just have to get some ice for my ankle.  Thank you, my friends." Rebecca said.
        "We don't have much in the way of comforts, but you are welcome to stay here," she offered.

        "Thank you for the offer, Rebecca-samma.  We would be honored,"  Sata said, touching a hand to
        her heart and bowed.  All three went inside, the two gargoyles saw their new friend to her bedroom,
        as soon as her head hit the pillow, and feel asleep, they went back out into the main room.

        *****
            Sata sat down in high-backed chair, "I don't think this whole trip is over yet." she remarked.
 
            "Yeah, you're right.  I got a bad feeling about this, a really bad feeling.  We should find an out
            of the way place to spend the day," Brooklyn said.

             Just then,  the first faint rays of sunlight creeped through chinks in the curtained windows.
            and the gargoyles turned to stone for the day' sleep.

           <hr>
 
        LATER

            "Rebecca, are you awake?" Sata asked, knocking on the door to the Rebecca's room.
 
            " Rebecca?" Brooklyn added.

            Having called the girl's name several times and receiving no response, they went inside,
            thinking that perhaps she was a deep sleeper, attempting to shake her awake, they discovered that
            they'd been trapped in stone sleep, unknown parties had entered the house and snatched away their new friend.
            <hr>
            Salem township, the next evening

                "The Court of Oyer and Terminer is now in session Chief Justice William Stoughton presiding. All rise!"
                the bailiff announced in a loud, authoritative voice.

                The man dressed in black robes sat down behind the wooden bench upon which rested the tools of his
                trade: a gavel, and a state of Justice, a woman with long, flowing pale hair holding a book in one hand and
                a scale in the other.

                    "Before we proceed with the trial of the accused, hight, one Rebecca Byrne; I would like to make
                    one thing abundantly clear. You must understand that under  British law, the basis for the formulation
                    of the statuettes for the citizens of Salem, Massachusetts, those accused of witchcraft are considered
                    to have committed a crime against their government."

                  He waited several minutes and allowed all those present a moment to let this sink in, especially
                  the jury.

                    "Prosecutor Hawhthorne, are you ready to with your opening statement?" he asked.

                   "I am, Your Honor," the lawyer replied, standing up and facing the jury.
                   "Rebecca Byrne was arrested earlier this morning having been found near her house.  She was
                    found in the company of two night creatures who vanished as soon as the sun came up.
                    She could not account for her whereabouts the night previous.  What she could tell was confused
                    and sketchy at best."

                    "What was her story?" Stoughton asked.

                    "She claimed to have been out in the forest. She'd gone riding with some friends,
                    but her horse shied when it tripped over a thorn patch and broke loose.  She went after it
                    and got lost in the forest before two people she will not name, found her and brought her back
                    to her home."

                    "Verification?" Judge Stoughton asked.

                    "I had the constubulary check the stables, all mounts were accounted for, and those that were
                    showed no signs of having been ridden recently, at last not within the last forty eight hours."
                   Hawthorne answered.
 
                    "Where are the two people who allegedly aided her in returning home?"
 
                    "She says they would not come to the trial, and that they don't agree that she should
                    have been arrested.  She also claims she's innocent of practicing any witchcraft."

                    "Mrs. Byrne." Judge Stoughton said, not unkindly. "Are you aware that you've been accused
                   of witchcraft, which entails trafficking with Satan!  You have been accused of dancing with the
                    Devil by the pale moonlight!  Girls and boys have been known to cry out the names of the people
                    that have subsequently died from mysterious circumstances." Judge Stoughton exclaimed.

                    She glared back at him, fists clenched, "And they've all been hanged because of it!"
 
                    "Yes.' Judge Stoughton sighed wearily. "Under the law, that is the punishment."

                    <hr>
                    Meanwhile

                   Up above, where they had a good vantage to view court proceedings, Brooklyn and Sata watched
                    the trial and worried that Rebecca wasn't getting a fair one.

                 "This doesn't look good for her.  I think they've already decided she's guilty.  If that's the case,
                why bother with the formality of a trial?"  Sata questioned in astonishment at yet another bizarre
                human custom. "I dp not understand.  Do not these people believe in 'innocent until proven guilty.?"
 
                "Yeah, ordinarily they do. but something really weird is going on here,"  Brooklyn replied.

               ******
                "We don't need to hear anymore.  Jury, are you ready to deliver a verdict?"

                "We are, Your Honor." the foreman answered.

                "NO!" a strident voice cried out. "I cannot allow this travesty of justice to continue!"
                Just then the courtroom door burst inward and a tall figure dressed in a black cloak strode inside.
 
                "The only crime this woman has committed was to place her trust in me! Release her!
                But I will not submit myself to human justice!" the figure screeched.

                    "Who are you?  What are you?" Hawthorne cried.

                    "Long ago, a king called Macbeth named me Demona," the blue female gargoyle answered,
                throwing back her cloak to reveal her cappped batwings. "That is not important now.  The only thing
                that is important is that you uphold what passes for human justice and spare the life of this girl."

                    "A demon!" Hawthorne cried.

                    "Not a demon.  I am a gargoyle." There's a difference." Demona said wryly.

                    "Where did you come from?" Judge Stoughton asked.

                    "A place very far from here, you would recognize it as Scotland. I am someone with a very
                    long life-line.  I freely admit I made a mistake here in Salem.  The times simply weren't right for
                    what I was trying to accomplish here," Demona replied, thinning her lips in confident grin.

                     "What were you hoping to accomplish?" Stoughton asked.

                    "Ancient philosophers called it 'natural science, you would call it magic.  I sought young men and
                    women who would be willing to accept my kind.  Although I have placed my trust in humans
                    in the past, every time I have met with betrayal.   I am not sorry, if I seem rude or demanding,
                    I am just very bitter.  Punish me if you must, but do not harm Rebecca.  They came to me of
                    their own free will.  I have heard that you set great store by that." Demona said.

                    "Their own will, no doubt you cast an enchantment on them, witch!" someone exclaimed.

                    "No spell, no enchantment. As I have already explained, they came to me of their own
                    choice, they stayed or left me out of their own choice." Demona said.

                   "Tituba is that you?" Stoughton said incredulously.
 
                    "Yes.  At least, I assumed the identity of your Arawak slave from Barbados, during the day."
                    Demona answered smugly.

                "Please, Demona, you don't have to do this for me," Rebecca cried.

                "This court was prepared to render the judgment 'guilty as charged' by in light of this
                new testimony that has been presented,  I have no choice but to belay the charge of witchcraft
                against the person of Rebecca Byrne and declare her innocent of all charges.  As for the one called
                Demona, she is out of her our jurisdiction, but I will demand one thing of her;  she will leave
                Massachusetts Salem township, and never return!  Case dismissed. Court adjourned.
                Stoughton nearly shouted, gasping in ragged breaths to get it all out at once.
 
                <hr>
                From a shadowed corner in the half open doorway, there came an involuntary gasp.

                   "Jalapena! Of all people I expected to encounter on our journeys, Demona is the last person
                I'd thought I'd see!" Brooklyn exclaimed.

                "Demona.  This is the member of your clan, Brooklyn-san, who was exiled for betrayal, correct?
                 Until Nagano sold out the Ishimura-Clan for the sake of jealousy and spite's sake, I too, could never
                have believed that a gargoyles would do such a thing.  It would not be honorable." Sata replied.

                "Yeah, I know what you mean.  In Demona's case, it was a lot more complicated, but I never
                expected her to take human girls or boys under her wing, so to speak, and teach them magic.
                She hates humans. Or at least she will, even more than she hates my clan's leader, Goliath," Brooklyn said.
                He cocked his head to one side, as he mulled the matter over.
                "I guess, until the night of the betrayal, to be fair, Demona didn't always have such a mad-on for
                human.  There was a time when she  actually believed in the gargoyle way. But, all that changed
                drastically when most of the clan was massacred.  Maybe in this  time period she hasn't completely
                become the opposite of everything gargoyles believe in. On the plus side, she will come to care an
                awful lot for her daughter, Angela," Brooklyn whispered.

                "Indeed. "Sata said as she tried to imitate the brick-red's gargoyle thinking posture.
                "Do you think we should get involved.

                "Not just yet.  I want to see how this plays out.  I think this time, this is more Demona's
                deal than it is ours."  Brooklyn answered.

                "Maybe if this Demona is a chronal link, than it is wiser that she not see you.  In any case,
                even if she did, maybe she wouldn't recognize you."

                "Bother time travel anyway," Brooklyn growled under his breath.

                ****************
                FAREWELLS,

                LATER

                        "I am glad you weren't senteced to be hanged like the others we heard about,"
                        Brooklyn said, stepping back from having just given Rebecca a smothering bear hug.

                    "As I am I," Rebecca gasped, rubbing her  neck where a roughly woven rope would have
                    stretched it.
 
                    "Indeed.  They gave you and the one called Demona the benefit of the doubt.
                    The human justice system can still be relied on," Sata agreed.

                    "Where did Demona go after the trial, Rebecca?" Brooklyn asked.

                    "I  don't know.  She wouldn't tell me." Rebecca replied.
 
                    "Well, she's funny that way," Brooklyn said.

                    "You knew her?" Rebecca asked surprised.

                    "Yeah, I know her.  I knew her. Past tense, future tense.  It's a long story, and it gets complicated.
                    Suffice it to say, that I know her." Brooklyn said.

                    "Is he always like this?" Rebecca asked, turning to Sata.

                  "He does like to talk much, despite this, my traveling companion has many excellent
                    qualities that more than make up for that," Sata grinned.

                    "Uh, gals!" Brooklyn gulped.

                    The two females, one human and one gargoyles laughed at the expression on the brick-
                    red gargoyle's face. his beak hanging open and his face turning a most interesting shade of
                    even darker red.

                    "Must you leave so soon? I've only just started getting to know you," Rebecca asked.

                    "Our appearance here may be intended or only happen-stance," Sata explained.
                    "So, it probably means that we are due to depart soon.  In any case, we are a long way
                    from home, and must continue our journey," Sata answered.

                    "Then we should have some sort of departing ceremony," Rebecca said.

                    "What did you have in mind?" Sata asked.

                    "Those rings you're wearing on your left hands, take them off and let me see them."
                    Rebecca answered. "Uh Oh, I think this means you're hand fasted a year and a day."
                    They took the rings given them by the Incan scryer, Diamanted, and looked at them.
                    "These meant we're hand fasted for a a year and a day?" Sata wondered.
                    The rings warm tones shimmered in the moonlight, red, green and brown waves spread
                    out in pulsating waves which pushed fear of the future to the farthest horizons, until there was nothing
                    but the light shining radiantly out from the rings.

                    "Brooklyn, Sata, you two are one person making a commitment to another.
                    Do you promise to take care of each other, rely on each other, in good times and bad,
                    no matter what happens?"  Rebecca asked.

                        "Uh, what do I say?" Brooklyn asked.

                        "Just say, 'I promise.  This isn't a wedding, it's a betrothal," Rebecca smiled.
 
                        "Okay, I promise," Brooklyn grinned back.

                        "Now, Sata.  Do you promise to help each other, rely on each other, and put up with each'
                        other's foibles, to give each other space when they need it and to trust each other?"
                         Rebecca asked.

                      "I promise.  Brooklyn-san,  You and I are  One, now and forever." Sata intoned.

                      Just then, as if the Phoenix Gate was waiting for the signal, having made their promise
                      to each other, Brooklyn and Sata were swept up into the whirling time vortex and
                    cast back into ocean of time.     

 
 

 
                

 

 


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