"This is NATV, Channel 4, broadcasting from and to the New Amsterdam Megaplex and surrounding area. The time is three o'clock."
"This is Franklin Alexander, your host for the 'Trial of the Day'. This afternoon, we have a good one for you. The barbarian child, known by the alias 'Jonathan Breathstealer', has besmirched our fair streets for many years, stealing the hard-earned wages of working folks to spend on immoral purposes. Today, he has been brought to justice."
"In a few moments, he will be in the courtroom behind me, facing the People's Justice. While there are unconfirmed rumors that he has carried out multiple assassinations, it can be proven quite easily that he's responsible for multiple robberies, muggings, breakings and enterings, assaults, batteries, and assaults with a deadly weapon, especially on law enforcement personnel."
Jonathan is brought in, wearing heavy manacles about both wrists and both ankles. Walking is obviously difficult for him, given the numerous bruises covering almost every visible part of his body. Nonetheless, he maintains a decent pace, urged on roughly by the guards into the docket, where he is locked down.
"As you can see, Ladies and Gentlemen, 'Jonathan', if that is actually his real name, tried to escape earlier today. He was subdued with minimal force, which is amazing given he almost sent two of the guards to the hospital. It would have served him right if he had been killed, but that wouldn't be the fair and honest justice we expect of His Majesty's Government."
The bailiff brings the ceremonial staff down three times, each time sending a roll like thunder across the room. "Oyez, Oyez, Oyez. District Court 34 of New Amsterdam, North American Colonies is now in session. All rise."
An older man enters from one side of the bench and moves to seat himself. He looks quite distinguished, despite what a very few might consider the hilarity of the powered wig traditional to the position.
Alexander continues, more quietly, as he quickly moves out of the way. "The Presiding Judge today is Lord Justice Leigh Brackett, commonly known for his no-nonsense attitude toward habitual offenders. Given 'Jonathan's' file, this should be short, quick, and brutal."
The bailiff speaks again, his voice booming across the courtroom. "You may be seated. All those with business before this Court, come forward, and you will be heard."
A middle-aged gentlemen, dressed in the traditional robes of a barrister, steps forward. "If it please your Lordship, I wish to present the case of The Crown vs. Jonathan Breathstealer, true name unknown."
Alexander continues, even more quietly. "Barrister Paul Anderson, one of the best in the Crown Attorney's office, is here to present the case before 'Jonathan Breathstealer'. He's known for his brutal exposure of the facts, no matter where it may lead. It promises to be an interesting case."
The Lord Judge looks over his wire-rimmed glasses. "What are the charges?"
The list takes several minutes to read, and is quite extensive.
How do you plead?
Jonathan's voice is barely audible. "Guilty."
Alexander speaks up again for the television audience. "A surprise twist. No attempt at justification or defense. A simply guilty plea. Something of a letdown, after the build-up around this case, but a savings for the Royal Exchequer."
The Lord Judge nods. "Normally, I would consider clemency, but as it is Scribe's birthday, I have to impose the maximum sentence. You will be taken from this place, to a place of holding, and from thence you will be taken to a place of lawful execution, there to be hung by the neck until you are dead, dead, dead."
"May the Lord have mercy on your soul."
"We'll return with the wrap-up after this commercial message. I'm Franklin Alexander."
Gil echoes the chuckle as he rounds another building and sharpens his eyes for any sign of Aello.
They go past a Klingon deli; a florists', "The Venus Flytrap"; a run-down apartment building; an appliance store with glowing, blaring screens in the window: "'...birthday, Scribe.' 'We'll keep you updated on the trial of the notorious criminal 'Jonathan Breathstealer' as more information comes in. Now, for a commercial break.' 'Are you tired of the same old planet? Then call Maga- "
Kiye hisses, then dives and almost crash-lands on Gil's shoulder, talons digging into the cotton fabric of his shirt. "Gil, stop!" he says. "*Look* at that!"
Alerted by Kiye's sudden landing and agitation, Gil watches the television, growing quickly confused and angery.
"This is Franklin Alexander. Welcome back. As you saw before the break, the trial was cut short by the surprising 'guilty' plea of the defendant. He is now being taken away in manacles, to spend his last night before his execution tomorrow."
"However, we have other surprising news today. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Chancellor.
The television scene cuts to a familiar, yet elaborate room. Sitting there is the ultimate executive authority of the British Empire, the Chancellor of the Commonwealth.
His tone is serious, his voice slow and excruciatingly well pronounced.
"Happy Birthday, Scribe."
The scene cuts back to Alexander, who looks momentarily surprised, then recovers. "Well, that is the word from the Mother Country. For NATV Channel 4, this is Franklin Alexander. Keep your noses clean, and stay out of the Royal Courts."
After several commercials, Mr. Alexander comes back on the screen. "Well, in a surprise twist, the young horror, Jonathan Breathstealer, as he is known on the street, pled guilty to a myriad of charges, and has been sentenced to be executed in the main square of New Amsterdam tomorrow morning at 9 AM."
"There are unsubstianted rumors that he has been involved with others, and eyewitness reports of his being seen with the winged killer for which there is currently a citywide manhunt. Sources indicate, however, that he has refused to say anything."
"Come tomorrow morning, it will be between him and God. For the Crown Court, this is Franklin Alexander."
"They are going to kill him!" Kiye hisses.
The young man groans. "Great."
He glances around helplessly, a lock of wild hair falling into his eyes, one cheek bumping up against Kiye.
The wyvern wobbles, but stays on Gil's shoulder.
"Aello's gone. I mean gone. We'll never catch up with her."
"You seem very sure of that."
Gil shrugs gently. "It sure seems like it!" he snaps, frustrated.
Kiye says nothing, but simply looks at Gil.
He looks back at the television, currently showing Jonathan's unflattering police mugshot splashed over by garish t.v. graphics. "Kiye, the guy wasn't exactly my best friend, but I can't stand that they're gonna kill him like that. I mean, damn, who is this Scribe anyway that just because it's Scribe's birthday they're gonna bulldoze the legal system! The guy should have one chance for an appeal!"
//Gotta get him out of that,// he thinks to himself, but is almost at a complete loss for an idea. He thrusts his hands into his pockets in defeat, catching hold of the harmonica.
//Hey...// he suddenly straightens.
"Kiye, we gotta find us a costume shop."
"Us?" Kiye grumbles. "Why do *I* need a costume, when I'm not even supposed to be seen?" He fades gradually from sight in a scene eerily reminiscent of the chesire cat in 'Alice in Wonderland.'
Gil grins, a bit embarrased. "Okay, so, I'm not used to vanishing, uh, wyverns."
Kiye laughs, a soft hissing sound.
"You are the one - the *only* one, I may add, who needs a costume. And why -" Kiye pauses for breath, then begins again " - do you need a costume? It is not Halloweve yet, I do not think...?"
The young man rolls his eyes. "Of course I meant for _me_..."
"Besides," he adds after some thought, "I doubt that many costumers have size extra small for wyverns. At least in your world."
Gil has to give Kiye that much. "No, I'm thinking something you can hide under, or since you can do that invisibility thing, it won't matter much anyhow."
He starts to move swiftly down the street, his eyes darting to and fro in quest of a payphone still in possession of it's phone book. "The only people they are gonna let anywhere near Jonathan are gonna be guards, psychiatrists and clergy. Especially on the execution block."
The wyvern sighs. "People," he mutters.
Gil nods in silent agreement.
In a few minutes he locates a beaten-up phone booth which has an equally tattered phone book within. Eagerly he starts ripping through the book.
"Costumes... costumes... dammit! Where are those things- there! Okay, 'Two Faces Costume and Masque'. Good. They're pretty close... I think." The shop is in the neighborhood, but several blocks away. "Then there's a matter of cash... damn!"
"Cash?" The wyvern looks quizzically at Gil, not having heard this particular slang term yet.
"Money. To rent or buy a costume." he mutters as he endangers the life of the phone book by nearly ripping through it in his search.
Slamming the book back against the wall of the booth Gil turns to Run his eyes over the city skyline. "It's a dumb idea anyway..." he starts to murmur, then stops as his eyes lite on a tall, arched cross. "But then..."
He starts out at a brisk walk, which soon becomes a jog. "Kiye, buddy, you might wanna stay invisible, 'cause I don't think the priests would take kindly to you..."
Kiye flutters off his shoulder and trails behind the boy, invisible once more. "Well, perhaps not," the wyvern agrees, with a smile showing all of his needle-sharp teeth.
**
Jonathan sits quietly, listening to the winds outside his cell, high in the New Amsterdam Crown Penal Facility. The warden, a rather unpleasantly jolly, fat, bald white male, had just left after offering him several choices for his last meal.
It was not that the options were unappetizing, although in truth, they could gag a maggot. He simply did not have an appetite. In the course of a few brief days, he had come to know what it was like to actually trust people, to actually begin to be in love with someone, for the very first time...
...and it had all come crashing down in one moment, in an attempt to rescue them from what, apparently, had not been a threat at all. Jonathan didn't feel like eating at all.
Instead, as he listens to the wind shake the bars, he wonders why dawn does not hurry, bringing the time when the white man's justice would, appropriately, steal his own breath for once and for all.
**
It's the worst thing Gil has ever concieved of doing, and it isn't easy. The quick trek to the cathedral and it's adjoining rectory is without incident, and getting into the public areas of the colossal stone building is no problem. Yet after pretending to pray for a few moments, Gil realizes he has no idea where the vestments for the churchmen are. Watching the few attendants he gets a clue as to where the less public areas are and he sets out, fighting back the rising guilt.
Wishing he were able, like the wyvern, to go invisible at will, the young man wanders quietly and cautiously through the labyrinth of halls. Knowing that time is important, he frets as turn after turn leads him only back to the Sanctuary. On his third trip past the glaring saints he discovers a shadowed door, humble and hidden. On a hunch he passes through it's cramped arch and into a dim stretch of hall. Several feet further and past another simple doorway Gil discovers he has finally reached his goal.
The small room, he guesses, must be where the priest and his assistants dress for the ceremonies. Robes of all colors and their accessories hang or are stored throughout.
"Bingo," he whispers hoarsley. For a long minute he finds himself unable to act as the sheer audacity and possible herasy of his aim overwhelms him.
When he can finally bring himself to act he then discovers that none of the vestments seem right for an execution. Beautifully designed and often heavily decorated, the robes are for church occasions.
"Rats," he murmurs. He moves on through the room to the door on the far side. "Need the laundry room or something. Jeeze, don't they have monks anymore?"
It takes every bit of Gil's amature cloak-and-dagger skills to avoid being caught, but thirty minutes later he successfully locates the attire he needs. Hiding the collar, shirt, jacket and robe under his jacket (mostly) he flees the church grounds and makes his way towards the heart of the city. Finding a deep cellar archway, he asks Kiye to keep watch as he tries the clothes on. The shirt is a bit large and he has to struggle to figure out the stiff, white clerical collar, but after a reasonably short amount of time, "Father Gil" models for the wyvern.
"I don't suppose you know if I look convincing?" he asks.
**
Dawn.
The hint of the sun is visible to the East from Jonathan's cell window. He watches it, calmly, having made his peace. As he recently realized, he has done a lot that he should not have, and had hoped to correct.
Events, however, seem to have cut the time much shorter then he would have liked.
Behind him, there is the distinctive sound of the cell door being opened. "It's time, Breathstealer. You have any last confessions for the Father?"
Jonathan turns around, his hair blowing softly in the breeze. "No. My peace is not with your God."
"Are you sure?" A voice whispers in his ear just above the level of the wind's noise, and something lands with a pinprick of claws on his shoulder. "I think that 'Father' Gil may have something to say to you."
The AmerIndian blinks, the only indication of surprise at the voice he just heard. //By all that be...could they actually be here to rescue me? But nobody could be THAT stupid...//
Kiye stifles a chuckle.
The invisible wyvern jumps off of Jonathan's shoulder and lands silently on the top bar of a nearby unoccupied cell, waiting for Jonathan to decide.
Gil feels the weight of Kiye leave him. He tries to remain calm, but is sweating bullets. That they have actually gotten this far was nothing short of a miracle.
//Damn good thing they didn't really look close at that I.D.//
Shaking his head, as in sorrow, he murmurs to the guard in a quiet and deep voice, "So shall the condemed go without absolution to his end. However, for the sake of the good Christian souls without, good gaoler, grant me the time to anoint him against returning as a vengeful spirit. I wish to give no delay to this, give eagles wings to this event."
//Dammit Breathstealer, don't get all stuck up noble on us!//
Breathstealer, for his part, is not sure whether he should laugh or cry. //Surely, you have condemned yourselves by being here, for that is just what they would expect. Nonetheless, the die is cast.//
Quietly, he speaks again. "Guard, if you will allow us a few moments, I will certainly allow the Father to put his fears at east."
Kiye jumps off his perch and silently follows Gil, making no more noise than an eyeblink.
Gil isn't at all certain what strength he calls upon to remain outwardly serene and priestly as the guard hesitates. It's certainly unusual to leave a criminal alone, but the robed holy man did pass security after all.
//By the skin of my teeth and Kiye's tail!// Gil reminds himself sternly. He fights back the urge to swallow nervously.
Whether it is Gil's calm exterior or sheer disinterest in the confessions of a condemned man, the guard seems disinclined to hover. With a shrug and a nod towards "Father Gilbert", he closes the cell door and locks it with a loud ring.
The still invisible wyvern takes up a lookout post over the cell door.
Gil turns back to Jonathan, but can no longer maintain his charade. He bursts forth in a wide grin.
"God have mercy on you, my son," he says in a low voice, pulling his harmonica from his sleeve. "For you, a cleansing hymn, to ease your spirit and bring you quickly into green realms," he adds cryptically.
Kiye laughs silently. //Perhaps humans aren't quite as foolish as they first look,// he thinks.
~Gil and I found that this instrument was more than it seemed,~ he mindspeaks to Jonathan. ~There can be no delay. Whatever lies on the other side must be better than what lies on this one.~
Jonathan's eyes widen, as he looks from Gil to the direction of the tiny wyvern's mental voice, to the harmonica, back to Gil. //Okay, somebody IS crazy enough to pull a jail break.//
The wyvern tilts his head.
Realizing that, at least in his own case, almost anything is preferable to execution, but also aware that the room may be monitored, he merely nods. "Certainly, Father. I have always appreciated music. Especially before they put the shackles on for the last walk."
Kiye thinks for a moment, then contacts Jonathan once again. ~Are your captors - do they - watch this place from afar, here? How?~
Despite his own tendencies, Jonathan manages to think his answer, instead of blurting them aloud. //Radio, television, telephone-like devices. I don't know for sure if they watch or not, but it is certainly possible. Best to hope for the best, but assume the worst.//
Kiye only has a vague idea of 'radio' and 'telephone.' But even though he was only in Gil's reality for a short time, he picked up the idea - and accompanying culture - of television quickly, as most passers-through did.
//Television,// he muses to himself. He grins slowly, and nods to Gil. ~Anytime now,~ he mindspeaks to the 'priest.'
Gil puts the harmonica to his mouth, advising Jonathan beforehand, "Meditate upon the music, my son. Give your soul its release so that you may be redeemed unto the Lord and fly with the eagles to paradise."
A sweet note trills from the simple instrument, growing into an uplifting but spiritual sounding string of tones.
~I will take care of the television,~ he mindspeaks to Jonathan. ~They will not see anything.~
//Good,// Gil thinks as his music stirrs the fabric of his universe again, //Last thing we need is a posse of keystone cops on our tail.//
Like before, as if in some high tech special effect movie, there is a disturbance in the makeup of the world, and the door to the cell begins to change, to fade and alter. Where shadows and cold steel were sunlight begins to glow, and tall stalks of grass intrude past the archway.
//Lord, I hope that it's better there than here!// Gil prays.
The wyvern opens his mouth. For a moment, nothing seems to happen. Then, a fog - dense, grey, and impossible to see through - seeps from his mouth.
It begins to envelop the portal, the two humans, and indeed the entire room. Kiye looks up at the air duct directly behind him and smiles. ~The vent must be broken,~ he mindspeaks to Gil and Kiye. Becoming partially visible, he winks, then motions them to go through with a wing. ~Hurry. The fog will last quite a while, but the sooner we can leave the better.~ He himself dashes through the portal a moment later.
The transition is very cold, but lasts only a moment. On the other side, the wyvern sees…
A substantial sized field of tall grass. In the not too far distance, a mountain rises up abruptly from the landscape, seemingly reaching for the sky. The smell of the sea is strong on the air; it is not too distant.
Kiye sniffs appreciatively. //I have not smelt that tang in ages.//
A moment later, the AmerIndian dives through behind the wyvern, rolling to one side as he does so and coming up in a crouch. His eyes widen as he gazes upon the scene.
Gil's music still softly paints the picture into reality. He is only marginally aware of the scene that unfolds. He struggles to maintain his concentration, certain that at any minute the guard will return.
The wyvern's needle-tiny teeth glint in the bright sun as a wry smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Much better than a prison cell, mm?"
Jonathan quietly nods, as his mind whirls away. //I KNOW this place from somewhere...//
//I wish I knew where we were, however.// Despite the beautiful settings, Kiye still feels a tinge of unease. Up to this point, he has gone through portals only of his own free will, and only knowing what was on the other side – more or less. //Such magnificance sometimes holds more than simply scenery.//
He says nothing to Jonathan, but slowly drifts higher on a hot air current, scanning the ground below.
Jonathan himself slowly moves away from the portal, giving ample space to whomever else may come through, as well as enough time to hide if they should prove hostile.
Every few moments, he glances over his shoulder to the portal, through which grey wisps of fog are beginning to swirl. "Is he coming?" he calls down softly to Jonathan.
"To be honest, it did not occur to me to ask. I would certainly hope so; I can't imagine any reason for him to stay."
Gil hears them, and suddenly realizes that he hadn't really thought much farther than the moment. Opening his eyes, he gazes upon his companions. Then his eyes study the grey cell he stands in.
//Can I even go through? What happens when I walk into that with this thing?// he wonders of the harmonica. //Will it work?//
Realizing every moment he hesitates leaves them open to danger, he decides on the moment and steps through.
Just as the guard comes to check out the progress of the priest. "What the..?!" the man cries out, drawing his weapon. "Okay! Freeze! Breakout!" he shouts, alerting the rest of the jailhouse.
Kiye freezes for a moment, then darts further into the new land.
Gil turns, looking down the barrel of the gun... on the other side of the shimmering door. Sunlight streams through his hair as he slowly ends the final note and pulls the harmonica from his lips.
Like curtains closing, the portal dissipates. Gil watches the surprised expression of the guard and hears the quiet click of the gun's hammer as it falls. The explosion of the round is muffled, the flight of the projectile heralded by an odd shimmering in the last shadowy vestiges of the portal.
Kiye breathes a sigh of relief.
Gil feels a sting on his shoulder, and the bullet flies past Jonathan and Kiye harmlessly.
"Damn," Gil murmurs as he turns around. "Damn. That was awesome."
For a moment, there is only the soft sigh of the wind. Then, Jonathan speaks up. "For once, Gil, I have to fully agree with you."
"What does this word 'awesome' mean?" the wyvern asks curiously, but with a smile.
Straightening up, the AmerIndian takes a good look around, apparently satisfied there are no immediate dangers. "If we're where I think we are, there is an ocean about an hour's walk that way. If so, I can eventually get us home."
"Eden."
"Do you know this place?" Kiye asks in a tone of surprise tinged with the smallest hint of suspicion.
Jonathan tilts his head to one side. "I...think so. It's seems familiar. The Nexus being what it is, though, it's hard to say. Just keep an eye out for very, very large footprints."
"Like something out of a Godzilla movie."
Kiye frowns. "What's 'Godsssilla?' " he asks, hissing out the word.
Still stunned by the beauty and openess around him, Gil responds automatically. "Big ugly, city eating lizard. Japaneze creation from movies."
Kiye twitches his tail as he says, "Concrete disagrees with my digestive system, but my mother's mother's cousins..."
Suddenly Jonathan's words sink in. He glances at the man, uncertain. "Footprints? Uh..."
Gil feels entirely out of place. Raised in the city, he has never been beyond it's cramped cement boundries, seeing trees only in stunted parks that had been sprinkled throughout the concrete jungle. The broad open region the three had been deposited in was starting to make him nervous.
//What's to be nervous about?// he asks himself, trying to shake away the jitters. //You've always wanted to go out to the 'burbs! Chill, Gil!//
Turning again to Jonathan, he seeks direction. "Where to now? You know this place?" Glancing down at the harmonica still in his hand, Gil briefly wonders if that is coincidental or a part of the magic of the instrument.
Kiye swoops down and lands on Gil's head. He leans down and twists his head around to stare directly into the teenager's eyes.
"Why ask so many questions?" he whispers. "We need to go nowhere. You are nervous, perhaps?" He grins, tiny teeth glinting in the warm sun - reassuring, from the wyvern's point of view, and unfortunately not from the human's.
"It is so beautiful here," Kiye says to everyone in general, looking out from his perch. "How can one not be content, with such greenery, such flying space?"
After the stress of the last twenty-four hours, Jonathan can't help but giggle a bit. "Nothing personal, Kiye, but if this is where I think it is, some of your relations here will think of US as fast food. Best those of us of soft, hairy skin get to shelter before that happens."
Kiye turns to Jonathan and frowns slightly.
Gil is certain he doesn't like the sound of that.
Turning in the direction of the mountains, Jonathan begins to move at the best pace he can manage. Given the injuries of the "arrest" and subsequent confinement, and the relative lack of medical care, this isn't as fast as one would think.
At a loss for any better action, Gil follows on Jonathan's heals. //He at least seems to know where he is.// The boy frowns at the man's obvious discomforts. //Hopefully he knows somebody around here, or there's a hotel or something. He doesn't look so good.//
His concern for the other suddenly strikes him funny. //HE doesn't look so good? Good God, Gil! In the last twenty four hours you went from boring book geek into a jailbreaker! Man, mom and dad are gonna freak!//
He pauses. //If I ever go home again...//
"To which one are we going?" the wyvern asks, nodding to the mountains.
Gil stares at the scenery. Despite the oddity of his situation, he finds the serenety of the mountains relaxing. "Who cares? I think we need to ask how long 'til the first truck stop," Gil mumbles.
"Well?" Kiye impatiently asks Jonathan after waiting a few moments.
Pausing, Jonathan looks at the two. "Whichever one is closest with a cave of only halfway decent size. I have some idea of where the portals are around here, but I certainly haven't mapped everything out. It tends to get...unhealthy."
Turning, he begins moving again.
Gil doesn't look too pleased with the announcement. "Cave?" he asks. Then he sighs. "Now I wish I'd joined the Scouts like mom thought I should have."
"Isn't that dangerous for one your age?" Kiye asks Gil reproachingly.
Shrugging, he keeps pace with Jonathan. "What else can you tell us about this world?"
The little wyvern is also very interested in hearing what exactly Jonathan has to say. "Yes," he chimes in, "and how did you come to be here before?"
Jonathan merely shakes his head as he continues onward toward the mountains. "In the classic style of anyone, I suppose. I stumbled through a portal I didn't know was there. Spent a couple of weeks before I found the way back."
Kiye lets out a hissing laugh. "That is how I started on my journey, as well."
Gil remains silent. //They talk about it as if it's nothing,// he sighs inwardly. //Nothing to escape to such a beautiful, uncramped place.//
The little wyvern mindspeaks to Gil firmly, but not angrily: ~It was luck, Gil, that brought us here. We could have just as easily have been dead now. It takes much - much - ~ the wyvern searches for the word. ~- courage to be a portal jumper, but it never hurts to laugh. Welcome.~
With a sigh, Gil nods slightly. He isn't so sure the place was random, but as he had never used the power of the harmonica before, he can't dispute the wyvern's opinion.
Kiye grins and does a somersault in midair.
"Happily, the vegetation is quite....useful. Lot of healing herbs, edible plants, and so on. One could live here nicely as a vegetarian, if it wasn't for the big lizards."
The wyvern once again hmms.
Gil holds up a halting hand. "Uhm, once more. Elucidate on these 'giant lizards'. Are we talking kimodo dragons? Dinosaurs?" There's something very frightening and exciting all at once when he thinks about the latter.
Jonathan pauses once again and turns, looking back at Gil questioningly. "What's a dinosaur?"
"What is a 'dinosaur?' " Kiye asks, at almost the same moment as Jonathan.
The boy raises an eyebrow. Rather than explaining, he says, "If you don't know, they aren't.”
Kiye smiles. The skin near the corner of his eyes crinkles, and the scales sparkle as they reflect the sun. "Gil did not know about wyverns or portals before this time. That did not mean they were not there." He turns a deep shade of burnt umber and looks at Jonathan.
Gil rolls his eyes, but feels the eagerness inside to show off his knowledge. "Okay. Dinosaurs, which means "thunder lizard", were humoungous reptiles that lived on Earth millions of years ago. There were several different ages of them, but eventually most died out. Those that didn't evolved into much smaller species, like the alligator, the crocodile and even regular birds. Some of the larger specimines were over forty feet long and some were very ferocious predators. I wouldn't want to meet a T-rex, or Tyrannosaurus Rex, a.k.a. King of the Lizards, out here. Or anywhere." He shudders slightly, reminded of rather sensational hypotheses on man/dino encounters presented in modern film.
“Just let me know what I should do when and if we do meet with one, okay?"
The wyvern tilts his head and nods.
Jonathan thinks for a moment, while he continues to move at the best rate he can manage from his prison injuries. "Well, there are a few that big, but you can see them coming. Most of them, thankfully, prefer to eat the plant life."
"The dangerous ones, though, are about our size. They move in packs, and they're very fast. If we run into one of those, I suggest you put me between you and them, then calmly leave. If you panic and run, they'll be all over you."
Gil nods, trying to remember where he'd heard that caution before. He also rankles at the thought of leaving Jonathan behind, but knows arguing will get them nowhere.
Silently, he continues to march along and study the beautiful landscape.
Kiye turns a violent indigo and hmms. "Do they speak?" he asks finally.
Jonathan stops abruptly, suddenly on the alert. Quietly, he replies, "you could ask yourself."
Only a few feet in front of him, a reptilian head and long, serpentine neck has suddenly popped up from the tall grass, locking eyes with Jonathan.
Kiye quietly backwings a few feet, stops, and becomes semi-transparent.
Gil freezes immediately, his eyes turning wide as saucers as the strange creature and Jonathan exchange looks. For a moment, he wants to panic. Then he remembers Jonathan's warnings: Don't run, and they mostly are grass eaters.
"Oh, boy," he murmurs. //How do you greet one of these?// he asks himself as he carefully strains his neck to get a good look at the thing.
//Really, talking to one would be most cool.//
The wyvern, catching the gist of Gil's thoughts, begins hesitantly to speak in his own tongue, a sort of vaguely rythmic hissing patter. "Hello, friend-lizard...?"
The reptilian head snaps about in the wyvern's direction, as a hood spreads slightly behind it, making its appearance even more menacing. «You are not People. Who are you?»
Jonathan takes a couple of quick steps back, startled by this turn of events. Then, he freezes again, as six MORE heads pop up from the tall grass. It can be safely assumed that, whatever Jonathan mutters to himself at that moment, it is not a nice thing.
Kiye switches to a different tack as the voice echoes in his head. ~I am Wyvern. They ~ - he gestures with a wing ~ are Human.~
He finds it safest to tell the 'dinosaur' the truth, as they are even bigger than the humans.
The "dragon" looks intently at the wyvern, as the others look about, two of them focusing on the two humans.
«You are wyvern. They...are food.»
Kiye lands softly on Jonathan's head, and bends down to speak in his ear. "They want to eat you," he says. "What do we do?"
"Take Gil and leave", Jonathan replies quietly, trying his best to come across as if he knows exactly what he's doing. "I have a plan."
"Maybe it will even work."
Kiye frowns. "No. *You* leave with Gil. I will stay."
Gil remains silent, but feels a bit annoyed that he's the one they need to run away with...
~They are Friends...~ Kiye tells the dinosaur, as forcefully as he deems safe.
«They are not of the People. You...maybe.»
A few more, smaller heads, have now popped up.
Gil watches as Kiye and Jonathan communicate with the creatures. //Geeze...//
Not at all comfortable with being identified as food, Gil tries to point out his sentience.
"Pardon me, kind being, but can we negotiate this food thing?" Even as he attempts polite conversation, his hand reaches for the harmonica.
~Gil,~ the wyvern mindspeaks to the human, ~They do not understand you. Stop speaking before they think you threaten them.~
Gil purses his lips, and silences. //Great. When did I become the annoying little brother?// he whines to himself. //And how can I make myself look less like lunch!//
~You are a *friend*, Gil - and all this is to *keep* you as such, quite literally! Can you not see that?~ The wyvern flicks his tail. "Perhaps we should all leave," he hisses.
Jonathan for a moment has a puzzled look, then the light of realization dawns. Kiye, I mean physical distance. In the direction we were headed, a little roundabout.
The lead reptilian looks at the entire group oddly. «Speak openly, especially those soon to be lunch.»
Kiye inclines his head. "We are most sorry." He turns and speaks to Gil and Jonathan. "Er. They can hear mindspeech."
Gil wonders if they can read regular thoughts, like Kiye does with him. Just in case, he keeps his thoughts tightly respectful.
Kiye smiles and nods to Gil. //Good, the boy finally understands.//
Several others, obviously not in the best of moods, begin to move forward in a swaying, back and forth gait.
Jonathan turns his attention back to the reptiles, as he begins chanting in a high, sing-song voice.
"Hm..." Kiye suddenly nods to Gil, and motions for him to follow, quietly and quickly.
Gil returns the nod, his glance carefully sweeping over the approaching creatures, careful not to lock gazes with any one of them. "Be careful, Jonathan," he says in parting, his voice evenly measured.
Kiye leads Gil slowly out of the sight of the dinosaurs, then turns and speaks in a whisper. "Say nothing. Follow me. Walk as silently as you can." He then dashes quickly off through the bushes and trees, intending to put as much distance as possible between the dinosaurs and themselves.
Jonathan is barely aware of their departure, his attention focusing on the creatures in front of him. Continuing his sing-song chant, he begins to slowly weave back and forth, much like the snake-charmer's snake.
For a long moment, the reptile in front of him stares at him strangely. Then, slowly at first, he begins to mirror the human's actions.
Kiye shakes himself like a wet dog. //It reminds me of the hatching-lullabye,// he thinks, then continues, leading Gil on. Occasionally, he looks anxiously back to Jonathan. //Hurry, Breathstealer, hurry!//
The wyvern looks down at Gil, then swoops down to fly on the human's left. "Those are dinosaurs, I assume?"
Gil glances back. "Well... kindof. They're shaped like dinosaurs... though I've never seen anything _exactly_ like those... but as far as we know, there were no psychic dinos. Maybe they're decendants."
Kiye nods.
Gil deeply regrets that the creatures were so hostile. //It would have really been cool...// then he stops himself. Glancing at Kiye, he realizes how alien the wyvern is to his world.
"Hey, Ki..." he says in as conversational a tone as he can muster, "Where did you say you were from?"
The wyvern turns his head and looks at Gil for a brief moment before looking straight ahead once more. "Far away," he says and smiles. "My kind call it Rinavtria, though others there have their own names for it. It means - " here the wyvern pauses, and says nothing for several more minutes, then continues abruptly.
Gil glances over, waiting for the wyvern to continue.
"In your tounge, it would mean 'Land of the Great Aspens.'" The tiny wyvern smiles, then says, "it is very beautiful." There is a hint of wistfulness in his voice, but it is gone a moment later. "But I have come very far since then. What do they call your place?"
Gil grabs a handful of tall grass and tears it up. "Chicago," he almost grunts. "It probably means something, but no one cares what anymore. You saw it. Only really old folks can get nostalgic about it." He flips grass stalks to the side.
"There are no trees," Kiye says bluntly. "It is a dead place. Why live there? Surely there are better 'Chikagos'."
//Oh, brother.// "Well, y'see, there's set laws in my world. Laws involving the definition of adulthood, which is generally decided by the number of years you have lived."
Kiye looks at Gil and raises one eyebrow. "And you think it works differently in my world?" he asks, the amusement barely hidden from his voice.
Gil shrugs dramatically. "For all I know you could be a grandfather. I'm afraid I can't judge your maturity level. Also, I guess I figured that you were a pretty capable kind, and not stuck being cared for by an adult for years after you were quite able to take care of yourself."
"I am what humans call a young adult," he says. "Two hundred or so of your years. But we *do* take care of the egglings. Only animals leave their young alone to fend for themselves."
"I'm still a kid, according to the law, and in the custody of my parents. They have jobs in Chicago, jobs they don't want to change. Since they don't want to change, they won't move. Since they won't move, I don't move."
"You could leave." He pauses, and after a moment, says: "but I suppose you did, did you not?"
About to explain about the consequences of a minor suddenly leaving the home of his legal guardians, Gil simply clears his throat. "Yeah, I guess I finally did." // And the cops can't drag me back! Well, as long as I don't go back _there_.//
"The police of your Chicago do not know this place exists." Kiye grins. "Is this not wonderful?"
//Yeah, their the adults... trapped. Hell, I've got more sense than they do!// Gil shrugs as he remembers Kiye can hear his thoughts.
Hesitating, he glances over his shoulder. "Y'know, it would be a real drag if we saved him only to have him become lizard food," he mutters. His concern is sincere, surprising him.
His eyes turn forward. "Besides, I think he's the only one who knows where we're going."
Kiye glances backward. He had not realized just for far they had gone in such a short time. "You are right," he says slowly. "We should wait." And after a moment: "Stay here. If I fly high enough I may be able to see him." Without waiting for a reply, the tiny wyvern shoots upward like a wine-bottle cork.
"Be careful!" Gil calls up after him. "There could be other predators out there!"
//And I don't want to be alone in a world where the velociraptors have mind-powers! Sheesh!//
"I will be fine," Kiye calls down to the boy. "And so will you. I will return shortly."
That Kiye felt he needed assurances like a five year old annoys Gil, but only because he is embarrassed.
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"To 'reassure me as a five-year old,' " calls Kiye with a hint of an edge in his voice, "is as 'annoying' as it is to me as it was to you. I will stop if you will." He is silent, then, and looks through the wisps of clouds to the ground below. //Breathstealer, where are you?//
Almost as if in response to the unspoken question, the young Amerindian comes into view. He is moving at a gentle lope, as if he has not a worry in the world.
There are, thankfully, no sign of the worries that they all shared just a short while ago.
Kiye grins and dives down to meet the boy, slowly. "Breathstealer," he says, and nods. Despite himself he is suprised at feeling such happiness that the human has not been hurt.
"What happened? Gil is waiting. About 100 paces ahead."
Jonathan nods, continuing to move along. "I left them a bit hypnotized...eventually, they'll snap out of it, but we'll be long gone."
Kiye raises one eyebrow, then frowns. "You can hypnotize reptiles?" he asks.
Jonathan gives a slight grin. "Let's just say it's close enough. I'm just glad it worked."
Kiye frowns again. //I hope sometime he does not take it into his head to use that on me,// he thinks.
Closing up, he slows his pace as he comes up on Gil. "One problem dealt with; let's get moving before they wake up."
Deciding not to ask for clarification, the younger man nods. "Cool."
Kiye nods. He flies quickly ahead to Gil. "Which way?" he turns and asks Jonathan. "You said you know this place."
The AmerIndian considers for a moment, then points. "About a mile that way."
Gil looks at Jonathan with eager anticipation. In the short time since Kiye left, he has found himself growing more curious about this new world. //Better than the sci-fi channel.//
"Uh," he hesitates a moment, "Should we be watching out for anything else?"
Kiye smiles a bit. "Yess," he says. "The problem is that you do not know exactly what it is you should be watching for, until you know."
"Nothing intelligent, thankfully. Be careful what you eat or drink; other than that, it's safer then a lot of alleyways."
"Great. What are we aiming for? A city? Village?" the boy asks.
Jonathan shakes his head. "I hope not. There wasn't the last time I came this way, in any event. It should be a simple, natural stone arch. Although we could run into more of our 'friends'; some of them like the ocean."
At the thought, Jonathan picks up the pace slightly more, obviously not wishing a repeat encounter.
At the pace Jonathan sets, the journey does not take long. Soon enough, the mountain towers above them to their left, and the ocean just within sight. Then, the group reaches the edge of a clearing, bare except for a seemingly natural stone arch.
"Well, here's the exit. Anyone else want anything before we pass through?"
Gil glances around. "That's it?" he asks, uncertain.
//There was nothing *here*,// Kiye thinks, rather peturbed.
The AmerIndian nods. "That's it. Not impressive, I know; most portals aren't.
"Oh, one thing. Step through with a SMALL step, then move sideways to the right. Kiye, be careful if you fly through; there's some severe winds on the other side."
The young man nods slowly, but is curious. "Sideways? What's on the other side?"
Kiye nods. //Not for much more,// he thinks, and sails through the portal. And finds himself sailing hundreds of feet above the ground. "It is beautiful," he breathes. A gust of wind, driving up from below, nearly slams him into the cliffside. He darts away just in time, and frowns. He begins to mutter in a sing-song tone, in a language full of inflected hissing, and the winds die down to a much more managable level.
That is, almost-impossible to fly.
He does not even notice the dinosaurs, huge, dim, hulking, grey shapes, on the other side of the portal. //What is keeping them?// he wonders.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Gil continues, having missed for the moment Kiye's passage through the portal.
Even as he asks, he also notices that they are being approached very quickly.
"Uh, Jonathan... I think your pals are back!"
Jonathan takes a look at the charging, very ANGRY raptors. "Oh, shit....."
Grabbing Gil as he moves like a frightened antelope, Jonathan disregards his own advice as he practically leaps through the portal, not far ahead of the charging mob of dinosaurs.
Gil lets out a quick gasp of surprise, but allows the other human to drag him along.
There is a momentary disorientation; then, the pair are falling freely.
Kiye ducks out of the way as a blur and a human smell catapault by his head.
The sudden, stomach wrenching, decent leaves Gil terrified and he clutches onto Jonathan as his only hope for survival.
//God in Heaven...//
But only for a moment.
Their descent comes to an abrupt stop as Jonathan's free hand latches onto the edge of the narrow pathway. The bodies of the two boys cruelly slam into the weathered volcanic rock wall.
Stunned by the impact with the wall, it takes Gil several moments to realise what a precarious position they are in. Slowly, his brain analyzes that he, too, should try to get a grip on the rock around them.
Jonathan emits a grunt of pain, desperately scrambling with his feet to obtain some secure footing on the rocky wall.
Kiye immediately grasps the situation and hovers just above the humans, looking down worriedly. He is too small to carry them. Too small, almost, to carry Gil's 'harmon-ica.' For the first time, size is a disadvantage to the wyvern.
The most he can do is calm the wind - which he does, and does quickly. A few words and a cry calm the tempest till there is no more wind then a feather being dragged lightly against the skin.
"What can I do?" he asks Jonathan.
Who, Kiye notes, is slipping.
Jonathan pulls the pair even closer to the cliff. "Wake Gil up...and duck."
At that moment, the enraged dinos come charging through the portal, with a full head of steam.
Kiye looks behind him, and immediately veers downward to hover beneath Breathstealer and Gil.
Charging right over the cliff, which they can't see before it's much too late.
Kiye only looks as the dinosaurs as they get smaller, and smaller. "Wake Gil," he finally mutters, and positions himself next to Gil's ear. "Gil."
Then, more loudly: "Gil! Wake up."
"I-" Gil's responce is cut off as he reaches for what looks like a firm handhold, but turns out to be a handful of falling stones.
"Damn!"
And then flips himself up over the cliff once more. "Nothing more I can do?" he asks Jonathan. //And such an interesting way of getting rid of them. I must remember it.//
Slowly, carefully, Gil continues to try to find firm hold of the wall, in order to free Jonathan of his weight. //Now I wish I had tried that damn wall at the rec center...//
Jonathan's voice is almost a whisper from the strain. "Gil, climb up me onto the ledge, then help me up. Carefully, but quickly. Don't move abruptly."
Almost even quieter, Jonathan begins chanting softly. Whether it is a prayer, or something else, is impossible to tell.
Kiye sinks his tiny teeth and claws into Gil's shirtsleeve, and pulls upwards with all his might. It doesn't help much.
Mindful of the true nature of his "rope", Gil struggles up to the ledge. His hair whips him painfully in the face, driven by the wind. Kiye's well-meaning but futile assistance spurs him to try harder.
"Come," Kiye encourages around a mouth of shirtsleeve. "Almost..."
After a few moments of scrabbling for purchase, the young man finally flops his stomach onto the ledge. Remembering Jonathan, he hurredly turns, pulling himself onto his knees and reaching down for his companion.
"C'mon," he grunts quietly.
Kiye tries the same type of assistance again, but decides that he may be hindering the rescue efforts more than anything else, and looks around for something long to help Jonathan clmb up on. He sees a stand of large, rough-textured hollow reeds growing from a small puddle near the cliff-edge, and endeavors to pull one out. After struggling with the reed for a few moments, it breaks with a crackle.
The wyvern grasps the reed, nearly as heavy as he, in his teeth and flies over to Gil. "Try this," he says, after dropping it on the ground. The reed is about a foot and a half long. "It looks flexible enough."
Gil stares at the reed for a brief moment. "Maybe, but will it hold? I got a better idea." A moment later he has removed his shirt, and tied the sleeves together in a thick knot.
Lying down on the edge, he swings the shirt down towards Jonathan. "Catch on! Can you get it?"
Kiye flies anxiously overhead, intent on keeping the wind calm.
//Right now Aello and her wings would be a godsend,// the young man muses, though fully aware that in the high winds even the amazing bird-woman couldn't have safely helped next to the cliff.
It takes a moment for Jonathan to notice the makeshift rope, so intent is he on his chanting. Once noticed, though, it is only an instant before he grasps it, even while continuing to chant in the strange sing-song manner.
Surprisingly light, he quickly scrambles up a bit, laying one hand on the firm rocky edge of the path, then the other.
Gil reaches out, grabbing an arm and helping the exhausted man the rest of the way up.
Finally, the chanting ends as, gasping, he sprawls out on the path.
Kiye lands lightly next to Jonathan, and releases the winds. He nudges the human gently with the tip of his nose. "Jonathan," he says quietly. "Jonathan. Are you well?"
Gil shakes his head in disbelief as he unknots his shirt and pulls it back on. "Man, that was not fun."
Kiye turns to Gil and says, "We need to get away from here. It is not good to leave him like this. He is in a... country of shock? Is that the right word? He said there was a place here, somewhere. We need to find it and bring him there."
Gil chokes back a snicker at Kiye's innocent error. "State. State of shock. Yeah... now what did he-"
Jonathan opens his eyes, looking into Kiye's face. For a moment, he simply looks, as if something is there. Then, he blinks, breaking the atmosphere.
"I'm... okay. Quite a ride, wasn't it?"
Kiye nods, and slowly flies into the air, hovering at Jonathan's head-level. He looks down at the boy concernedly.
Slowly getting to his feet, he lightly dusts himself off. "Well, Gentlemen, shall we get going?"
"Uh-" Gil isn't quite so sure he's ready to move out yet.
"Yesss," the wyvern hisses. "Let's - "
And promptly turns toward the open air of the edge of the ledge.
"Nonono!" The tiny wyvern turns a shocking shade of blueish green, and throws all of his 7 pounds against the human, trying to knock him backwards, away from the ledge. He succeeds only in making Jonathan stumble backwards and knocking the wind out of himself.
"That's the wrong way!" he yelps.
Gil had responded much more slowly than the wyvern. He takes gentle hold of Jonathan's arm. "Slow down, tex," he murmurs.
Jonathan merely stands there, blinking, with a very confused look. Then, looking about, recognition slowly dawns.
"Guys, I think my... er, perception of reality is, as they say, 'trashed' at the moment. Maybe I had better just sit here for a few minutes."
With that, Jonathan carefully sits down.
"That," the wyvern says, "is an excellent idea." He smiles with relief, and perches on a large rock nearby Jonathan.
The Amerindian looks at the wyvern in a rather odd way, head cocked to one side. After a moment, he finally comments, "you... don't look like you. Not small, not harmless. Very... different."
"What?" Kiye asks, with a faint hiss underlying the word. He looks down at himself, then to Jonathan. "I seem to see myself as myself."
~I do not understand, friend,~ he mindspeaks to Jonathan. ~Unless... perhaps you can see auras? I... have some magics that may enhance that.~
Gil casts a worried glance at Kiye.
Kiye frowns back at Gil.
~Perhaps....~, Jonathan finally replies. ~There was a lot I never quite grasped in my father's teachings and writings. Although... is it a matter of the aura being augmented, or have you simply been more then you told us, friend?~
~I do not know. Perhaps both. I am sure you are more than you have told us.~
~Aren't we all? Except maybe our companion, and he simply doesn't know.~
~I do not know...I think he is. Did you see his magic... instrument?~ Kiye will not risk mind-mangling the word 'harmonica.'
~Um.... no. Later, when my mind is working properly, you'll have to tell me more.~
Kiye nods. ~That is well.~
"Great. Maybe we can lead you? Can you tell us where to go from here?"
~Do you think he will lead us in the correct direction?~
//I never thought I'd be a seeing-eye-dog for a shock-stoned Indian,// he muses to himself, shivering in the mountain air.
Jonathan blinks as he considers for a moment. "That... would probably be the best thing. All we have to do is follow the trail downward to the crater floor. Although there are a few traps along the way. Whoever is in front will need to set their feet carefully."
"I will go first," Kiye volunteers. "Do you think the traps will work on me?" he says, flexing his wings. "Even if they do," he amends, "I may well be able to avoid them, or see them before they come upon me. I was not picked to be a Wing leader for itching my hide all day." He looks smug.
"Wing leader?" Jonathan's tone of voice leaves no doubt as to his curiosity about this latest revelation from his winged travelling companion.
Kiye nods. "A scouting party, of sorts."
[Jonathan says,] "As for traps, there are only a couple oriented toward flyers. Mostly, the giant eagles take care of those."
"Exactly - how big are these eagles? Would they attack me?"
"Maybe. You're about the size of the goats and large fish they feed on."
Kiye frowns. He can always turn invisible, he muses. And he could probably call up a wind.
He looks to Gil, and tilts his head. "We should be going, soon. Can you help him to walk?"
"I can walk", Jonathan interjects, obviously peeved at the insinuation. "My senses are screwed, not my legs."
Kiye nods. "But, friend, sometimes the senses fool the legs."
The AmerIndian manages a very weak smile. "Yes... but now I know which to trust. Assuming neither of you are going to deliberately walk me off a cliff."
Kiye grins. "Oh, friend.... now why would I do that?" He chuckles, without malice. He points a wing-tip to the left. "Lead on!"
"Gil, could you give me a hand, please?" Jonathan looks uncomfortable asking, but also accepting of the situation. "I'd rather not roll off the cliff, and this isn't a wide ledge. The path is even narrower."
Gil nods, silently agreeing, his eyes avoiding the hazardous edge.
"Thank you," comes quietly from the AmerIndian as his standing merely reemphasizes his current weakness.
Kiye jumps off the rock, beats his wings a few times, and proceeds to spiral up in lazy circles. He calls down. "Are we all now ready?"
Feeling that he should be lost without a small fuzzy dog and a lunch basket and a scarecrow friend, the boy sighs. "Sure. Lead the way."
Kiye slowly wings his way down the path, taking care to keep his friends in sight, testing the winds and the sky. /It is truly beautiful here./ He side-slips down a few large thermals, and flies closer to Gil as he sees two large shapes flying closer in the sky - the eagles, it would seem. He turns a light green with turqiouse wing-tips, ear-tips, and tail.
Jonathan manages a nod, blinking as a strange thought seems to pop into his head, or perhaps cross his reality. In his current mindset, it is hard for him to tell which to tell which.
"Gil, it will all work out in the end. The Great Spirit sees to such things, for those stout of heart."
"H'm?" The wyvern turns around. "Did you say something, Jonathan?"
The AmerIndian pauses, looking out over the rugged landscape of the insides of the volcano, down to the mixture below of green and blue, with the small splotch marking what he calls home. "No, nothing important, Kiye. I just... lost myself for a moment."
"You seem," the wyvern comments with a dry tone, "to be doing that very often lately. Are you quite sure that you are all right?"
Gil listens as he carefully guides his human companion down the path. The scenery is welcoming, despite the fact that a part of him thinks he's still in a grungy forest of brick and cement.
"It has been pretty tough, Jon. You might be suffering some kinda stress shock or thing," he mumbles.
Jonathan manages a bit of a sigh, as he tries to maintain his balance. "Possibly. So much, so quickly...I'm sorry, guys, but I've been a loner for a long time. Perhaps it's just a matter of....well, maybe I've always been this way, and there just wasn't anyone around to notice."
"I honestly don't know, anymore", the Amerindian concludes tiredly.
The exhaustion in Jonathan's voice reminds Gil that he, too, has been through some life-altering situations very recently. "Me too."
Kiye sighs. /Humans...so unadaptable at times,/ he thinks. However, he himself remembers the first time he was drawn into another reality. It had not been as easy as his pride would have him think it; it had taken all his flying skill to avoid getting run over by the yeti rickshaw driver.
As the trio decend further, Gil's admiration for the scenery grows. They appear to be in the crater of a dead volcano, with a paradise growing in its cavity. A lake sparkles at just off-center, with a field and a forest of trees surrounding it. He can just make out a small brown spot that must be a cabin of some sort.
"That must be the place?" he asks.
Jonathan concentrates where Gil is looking for a moment, then nods slightly. "That's....home. Although I'm not here that much."
Kiye raises an eyebrow in admiration. "It is very beautiful. You need not be there for it to be home, Jonathan."
He flies around the volcano crater once, in a circle, taking in the lay of the land, the smell of the plants and flowers, the tint of the water. For perhaps the first time since he had been drawn into the Nexus, he feels close to being truly at home.
As Gil and Jonathan draw closer to the crater, the wyvern lands lightly on Gil's shoulder. "A Marvelouss place."
The AmerIndian nods slightly in agreement, "out of it" though he is. "Yes, indeed. I can certainly understand why my father picked it out."
"Your parents also lived here?"
"They....did, yes. Much of the building work is my father's. Hopefully, their spirits are still here, sometimes, as I do not think they could do better elsewhere."
Kiye nods, and continues on.
Gil half-carries, half-aides the amerind into the valley and slowly approaches the cabin, musing that it looks much like the summer place his mother had always dreamed of owning. "Looks nice." he murmurs as they near the door.
He lets Jonathan open the cabin, and helps him inside. He gives the interior only the briefest of glances as he locates the single bedroll and leads his friend to it. Kicking the roll out flat, he lowers Jonathan carefully.
"Why dontcha rest a while. Kiye and I can amuse ourselves," he mutters.
Kiye nods. "Go to sleep."
The AmerIndian doesn't even argue the point, his eyes closing as he gives in to the accumulated stress and exhaustion of the past day or so.
Kiye looks down at the sleeping Jonathan for a moment, then smiles. /He needs to rest./
Turning around, he gives the rest of the cabin a good onceover. Built sturdily of wood and dried mud, it is roomy enough, moreso than the old apartment Gil had lived in since a child. The center of the room is commanded by a fire-pit like arrangement under a smoke-hole. Rough chairs surround crude tables covered with bits of metal and unfinished wood projects. Three exits hint at further rooms. There are few decorations, except a strikingly good copy of the Mona Lisa in a corner filled with a fascinating collection of odds and ends, and in another corner where a small gallery of photographs clutter the two walls.
Gil steps closer to the pictures, studying the faces therein. Eagles, native-americans, and even shots of what has to be a very young Jonathan dominate the theme. Two other people appear often in the photos, and Gil has to guess that they are Jonathan's parents. Another young woman is also featured prominantly.
The boy turns to the wyvern. "Nice place, I guess. Suppose he's got some food around somewhere?"
"I could go hunt." Kiye smiles. "I am very good with rabbits."
Gil's face betrays his feelings, but he nods. "Uh, okay, if you like rabbit. To be honest, I'm a can-and-box cook, at best."
This said, he begins a thorough check of the cabin for anything a city kid would call edible, with the sinking feeling that he's in the home of Grizzly Adams.
Fortunately for Gilbert, things aren't quite as bad as initial impressions would lead one to think. Admittedly, the general setup definitely seems to be of the "kill it, skin it, cook it, and eat it" school, as the presence of numerous preserved and worked skins and furs attests to, not to mention the various salted meats in the cool root cellar. However, a small cabinet does yield up a motley assortment of field rations, dusty canned goods, and a few other modern prepared foods.
"I do," Kiye says. He is nearly out the door before he turns about and asks Gil, "you will watch over Jonathan, then? I am off to hunt." He performs a neat aerial flip and heads out the door into the sunshine and breezes.
He catches a thermal and glides along for a few moments, altering his color to a green shade on the top, blue on the bottom, to make it hard for both potential prey or predators to see him. The sun shines warm on his back and wings, and he is happy.
He scans a tree-branch for any sign of snakes or other tree-climbing predators before settling gingerly upon it, and scanning the ground below. After a few moments, a band of small mammilian creatures, about the size of mice but with reddish fur, chirrup their way into the clearing below and begin eating the tree-seeds that have fallen on the ground below.
One, near the periphery of the group, is limping.
/Ah well,/ the wyvern thinks. /It is not a rabbit. But it is close. I wonder if it will taste different?/
He launches himself off the branch, hovers for a moment, then folds his wings to his sides and plummets downwards. The kill is clean, his aim is flawless - /as always/, Kiye prides himself. The remaining mice-things scurry for cover.
The wyvern picks up his meal and flies back to the hut. He lands in the space in front of the hut, worn clear of grass by the passing of feet of all kinds, and calls in to Gil: "I am done."
He takes his kill to the side of the space and rips off a chunk. /Hm, the meat is a little tougher than rabbit, but sweet. I wonder what these are called?/ When he is finished with the meal, he tosses the carcass into the nearby bushes, licks his talons and face clean, and wings his way back inside the house.
"Did you find something to eat, Gil?" He looks concernedly at Jonathan.
Gil looks up from his own meal. Having thoroughly scrounged through the house, he had found some canned fruit and meat, and was hungrily devouring both.
"Yeah, a bit. Ready-to-eat, so I didn't mess up the place too much." He glances at the amerind. "Still out, I think. Can't blame him. It's been rough."
The wyvern nods. "Let him sleep. He has deserved rest, at least."
Putting aside the nearly empty tin of fruit cocktail, Gil glances at Kiye. "Was the hunting good? Did you see anything noteworthy?"
Kiye perches on the back of Jonathan's chair and sits, eyes bright. "Some small mice-creatures. They were good to eat, certainly, though not much of a challenge to catch. As for anything else 'noteworthy,' I did not stop and look around. I was too hungry, and in unfamiliar territory.
Jonathan's eyes open, slowly. Anyone who was looking would recognize a look of confusion, as his mind tries to put back together the last few days of insanity.
Kiye hears a rustle from the bed, and turns to look at Jonathan for a moment. ~Gil, Breathstealer is awake.~
Gil stands, nodding. Noting the foggy look in Jonathan's eye, the boy fetches a cup of water, and sets it at Breathstealer's side.
"Take it easy, Jon. We're at your cabin, remember?"
The Amerindian blinks a few times, then slowly sits up, sipping on the water as the fog clears from his eyes.
"We... are, aren't we." A soft sigh. "I need a few minutes... it's all a bit fuzzy."
Kiye nods and flies over to the bed.
His eyes roam over a collection of pictures on the wall, finally settling on a particular one as the corner of his mouth downturns slightly.
"Cannot show weakness", Jonathan murmurs to himself.
Kiye tilts his head. /Wing and tooth, the human's got that right./ His suprise does not show, however.
Taking a deep breath, the AmerIndian pushes himself to a reclined position, then settles back against the headboard. "So, I hope I haven't missed anything", he asks, his voice sounding firmer as he continues to speak. "Have the two of you eaten? Any problems? Any word of Aello?"
Kiye nods at Breathstealer's first question, and shrugs to the second two.
Gil shrugs. "Nothin's happened since we got here. Kiye went hunting and I raided your pantry." With a deep sigh, he shakes his head. "Nada on Aello. I think she's... well, gone. Somewhere else." // Like an angel... //
/Whatever Alleo was, I doubt she was an angel, young human./ Kiye chuckles, the soft sound echoing oddly off of the stark walls. "I also do not know where Alleo has gone," the wyvern says, "but I doubt she will be coming back. Perhaps she does not wish to be found. I suggest we leave what cannot be helped in the past, as little as I like the idea at this moment."
Jonathan sighs, and leans back a bit more, sinking into the few pillows. "Figures...."
After a moment, he manages a weak smile. "In any event, Gil, you might have better luck with the root cellar. More cooking, but I'm afraid that's most of what I have on hand. Only a little canned stuff, for 'I can't deal with cooking nights.'"
"Or I could go hunting for you." The wyvern shakes his wings out behind himself. They rustle like wind over grass. "And you can do - do whatever it is you humans do to your meat to ruin it."
For a moment, the AmerIndian tries to rise out of bed, but his still awkward weakness makes itself known as he drops back. "Ugh... too long running, I guess. That... prison didn't help", the evident hatred of the place dripping from his words.
"Why were you there?" Kiye asks for the first time.
"The state... has numerous reasons for wanting me, and a large bounty on my head. Samantha turned me in for the bounty."
/He has dishonored himself,/ Kiye thinks. He glances to the pictures propped up by the bed. He wonders if they would have imagined their child, their kin and blood, to do such things.
Jonathan frowns slightly. "I tried everything nonlethal to stop her, but for some reason I couldn't go further... and thus, a jail cell and an appointment with the executioner." Looking at the two, he manages to reverse the frown into a slight smile. "Thank you, by the way, for getting me out. I wasn't looking forward to meeting my ancestors quite this soon."
"Ah, I see. Well, I am glad we could help." Kiye flits over to the window and suns a wing. "Do you think she is dead, then?"
The Amerindian is quiet for a minute, as he mulls over the question, calm returning to his features as he does so.
"No, I don't think so. Which means we need to have a chat with someone, soon." Jonathan rises and stretches, working out the kinks from the impromptu sleep.
"If you mean speaking with those who may have tried to make others think she did their crime - I do not know if I want to go." Kiye's lip shivers, revealing a glimmer of teeth.
"I'm going to see about some food. There's a perch on the southern corner of the building, if you like; it's intended for large eagles, so it's more then large enough."
"The eagles will have no need of it?"
Gil listens to the conversation between man and wyvern with half an ear. His thoughts are on the missing woman, and he wonders how they could possibly find her now.
Or find home.
"Uh, Jon? How do you... how can we get back? I mean, I used, uh... well, I used the harmonica and it opened kind of some fantasy-novel portal thing and that's how we got to that place with the lizards. I guess you know the ways back?"
"I might," Kiye says slowly. "It may take a long time to return, though."
Jonathan nods slightly. "I know a route, obviously, as I DID get there from here. It's not TOO long, although Kiye's might be more interesting. Personally, I'd like to take a few days before we make the return, though. I don't know about you, but I am very worn down."
"I said," Kiye hisses, "might. If Jonathan knows for certain a route, it might be best to take his."
"I'd like some time to think, too. Figure out what to do next."
The wyvern nods. "Thinking is often needed. It is sad how few realize this."
Jonathan nods slightly. "It has kept me alive a few times. Always a plus for any method, I think."
"The only for any."
Walking over to a set of pictures hanging on one section of the wall, tapping a specific figure. "Something to think about... this is the person behind our problems."
Turning, he heads for the stairs down to the root cellar.
"Who?" Kiye flits over to the picture, sniffs it. It does not smell of anything except Breathstealer, and the photograph is faded enough that Kiye's eyes have trouble making out individual figures. "Which?" He tags along after Jonathan.
Gil glances at the picture, remembering the face. "Ugh. Something tells me he's gonna be a _big_ problem."
He watches Jonathan decend, wondering what he was after.
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