On the Road to Silky’s Place

After arguing with Ida for quite a while, I had been somewhat convinced that my search for Amara was a curve in the road of my Journey. It all made sense, really, but I couldn’t help feeling afraid of what might be around the bend.

“Oh, tosh! If you keep worryin’ about what’s around the bend, you’ll never leave your front yard,” said Ida.

“Yeah? That’s beginning to sound very good to me!”

Ida just shook her head.

“And on top of that,” I whined, “I don’t even know where to start looking for her.”

“That’s easy! Start at Silky’s Place.”

“Who?”

“Silky, chief of the local band of fairies and a major pain in my backside… oh, you don’t need to tell her I said that.”

“And she know’s how to find Amara?”

“Dunno. But she guards the faraway tree and knows the forests and jungles and every living thing on this side of Duwamish Bay. She’ll get you going the right way. Now you’d better get some shut eye. I’ll have Mimi pack your gear so you’ll have everything you need.”

After our conversation, I slept for the rest of the day and all through the night.   I awoke the next morning refreshed. Even the wound on my leg felt better.

Ida and the Inn’s staff bid me an enthusiastic farewell, and I set off up the road that led out of Duwamish into the mists of the forest. Ida had warned me not to use the magic wings as Silky’s Place would not be visible from the air. I didn’t mind since I was in no particular hurry to start this leg of my Journey.

As I trekked, the forest grew darker and wetter and I was glad Ida had provided me with a flannel jacket. I pulled the candle out of Enchanteur’s bag and was able to cast a little more light on the trail before me. About three hours into my journey, I stumbled out of forest into a clearing. I saw a small house embedded in the roots of the biggest redwood tree I had ever seen.

Lights glowed through glass covered windows and, at the risk of being rude, I pressed my face to one of them, trying to see if anyone was in there.

I saw that a table had been set for five and several logs glowed in the fireplace, but there was no one in sight. I stepped over to the door and knocked. The mist had finally turned to rain, and I was getting drenched. I knocked a few more times and finally, cautiously, pushed open the door.

“Hello? Is there anyone here? May I come in? It’s a little cold and wet.”

I stepped into the parlor. The inside of the house seemed much larger than the outside of the house. Not knowing what to do, I decided just to sit and wait until someone returned.

As I pulled off my wet jacket, I heard a commotion coming from the kitchen.

“Give it to me!”

“NO! It’s mine.”

“No, it’s not! It belongs to me!”

Suddenly, the kitchen door swung open and a blur of hair and wings tumbled out. Two winged fairies each held on to the hem of a green dress, playing tug-a-war.

“I said it was mine!” screamed one. She yanked the dress causing it to rip down the middle. The fairy flailed backwards right into my chest. We both fell to the floor, me right on my bum.

“Ooooooooo, look what you did,” crooned the other fairie. “You’re in big trouble now!”

To be continued

Lori Gloyd (c) 2007

At the Inn, Part II

A silence fell over the dining room as the shaking gradually came to a stop. The patrons crawled from beneath the tables. They stared at the wrought-iron chandelier that had crashed to the floor, narrowly missing some diners, and then turned to each other, waiting to make sure that the shaking had truly stopped. Then, a collective sigh rose from the crowd and the room bustled into action. Some patrons rushed through the front doors, heading out to see if any damage had befallen their homes and businesses. Ida barked orders to her staff to begin cleaning and repairs.

“No time to waste. No quake’s gonna keep ‘em away at lunch time!”

Ida hustled me up the stairs to one of the guest rooms and settled me into bed. She sent Mimi to find the doctor. A short while later my wound was cleaned and stitched and a tetanus shot administered.

After the doctor left, Ida stood at the foot of the bed. “Now, dear, tell my how you came to my front door.” Mimi scurried around the room, tidying up and pretending not to listen.

I related my story from the beginning—how I found Lemuria and embarked on my first heroic journey last year, then how I found Cyberia and acquired the Tavern.

“You won the Taverna di Muse in a game of poker?” Ida let out a hoot and a hearty laugh. “Oh, how I wish I could have seen the look on Ethel’s face!”

I continued my story and told her how I embarked on a second heroic journey, and my encounter with the jaguar and Amara Von Saxonberg.

“It’s no small thing to do the journey once, but a second time?!. The deeper into Lemuria you delve, the greater the danger.” Ida lightly patted my bandaged leg. “What else did Amara say to you—besides just sending us her regards?”

I looked at Ida and cautiously said, “Not much else, really. Why do you ask?”

Ida rose and walked to the window. “Amara’s been flittin’ about Lemuria for quite a while now. Said she was a professor of some sort in the Real World until she, as she says, ‘fell down the rabbit-hole’ or some such nonsense. .. Anyhow, she keeps a room here at the Inn but spends most of her time ‘exploring’?

“Exploring for what?”

Mimi ceased her puttering. “She says she trying to find out what’s wrong with Lemuria! I don’t know what’s she talking about. Lemuria’s just fine! Just some bad weather and earthquakes. We’re fine, aren’t we, Ida?”

“Mimi, dear, run on down to the kitchen and see if Earl’s got some food for Lori. It should be ready now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mimi chirped.

After the door shut, Ida pulled up a stool and sat.

“We don’t talk much about this—people are nervous enough as it is…. There’s something afoot in Lemuria—something dangerous. A few months ago, we started having bad weather, crops failing, fish disappearing from the bay—first flooding rain, now drought. Then the earthquakes started. And…. if what you are saying is true…. The dead are arisin’ and walking about.”

“We haven’t had any of this in Cyberia. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s seems to have started in the Unknown lands of Lemuria and it’s spreadin’. If it isn’t stopped, it’ll reach Cyberia soon enough.”

“No, that can’t be. Lemuria is a refuge. It’s the place we escape to FROM the Real World.

“The peace of Lemuria is fragile and I’m afraid if something is not done soon, it will be beyond fixin’.”

“What’s causing it?”

“We don’t know. The Elders have convened and discussed it. I’m told that even Enchanteur has been ponderin’ the matter.”

“How does Amara fit into all this?”

“As I was sayin’ the Elders were discussin’ things a few weeks ago when Amara jumps up and says she’ll go lookin’ for the reason. She’s an impulsive woman to be sure, wild and unpredictable. Good-hearted to the last but no common sense. We had a big to-do about it, she and I, and she ups and runs off. Since then the earthquakes have been getting’ worse. I think she may have stirred things up even worse.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“We sent the Ravens with a message to Enchanteur askin’ what’s to be done. Just yesterday we get a message back from her. It only said ‘Watch for the Wounded Wanderer who bears the mark of the Panther. She will lead the way.’” Then Ida fell silent.

It took me a moment to process what she just said and then a realization hit me.

“What? You’ve got to be kidding. Me?”

“Aye. You.”

 

To be continued.

Lori Gloyd (c) 2007

At the Inn, Part I

“Ida, Ida! She’s comin’ round!”

I heard the chatter and mumble of many voices as I opened my eyes and tried to focus. I was in a large room with sunlight pouring through bay windows, and I could see Duwamish Bay Harbor, boats gleaming in the morning sunlight.

I was seated at a wooden table next to a large stone fireplace with a crackling fire. A crowd of strangers surrounded me. I closed my eyes again and tried to remember the night before. I could not recall anything beyond the grey figures marching towards me and my lighting the candle. I felt my wounded leg throb.

“Get out of my way!” A matronly woman dressed in a plaid flannel shirt and dungarees pushed through the crowd.

“Sit down, all of you. Let the poor girl breathe.” The strangers returned to their respective tables, but they continued to stare at me and whisper to each other.

“You gave us quite a scare. We found you this morning curled up on the front porch, clutching a cold candle. We couldn’t wake you up. Were you out there all night?”

I nodded.

“Good heavens, girl, why didn’t you knock? Earl is our night clerk. He’s always here, aren’t you, Earl?”

“That’s right, Ida. Dinna hear a thing all night.”

I found my voice, “But I did knock. I pounded and yelled, then those people….”

Ida and Earl exchanged glances, then Ida said, “Earl, get the girl some breakfast, will you, dear?”

“Coming right up.” Earl hobbled through a swinging door into the kitchen.

“Well, dear, tell me your name.”

“Lori.”

“Well, Lori, I’ll get you fixed up in a room right quick before I take the next ferry across to the Island.”

“You’re a ferry woman?”

“Indeed, I am. Nigh on thirty-seven years, this winter.”

“I have a message for you.”

“Really? From whom, dear?”

“Dr. von Saxonberg.”

As I suspected, everyone in the room had still been listening; their conversation and movements came to a complete stop and all heads turned to me.

“She does, does she?” Ida frowned.

I was immediately sorry I had said anything. “It’s nothing—she just sends her regards, that’s all.” My leg was still throbbing and beginning to feel hot.

Ida stared straight into my eyes as if searching for something. Then she said, “Have you been injured in anyway?”

“Well, as a matter of fact….” I pulled away the rip on my trousers to reveal the wound. Blood has soaked through the layers of gauze. “I think I may need some stitches and a tetanus shot.”

“Good heavens, girl! Mimi!” She called to a serving girl standing at the counter. “Get a bed ready right now!

Before the girl could scurry up the stairs, a low rumbling filled the room. The bottles behind the counter shimmied and the glass in the bay windows rattled in their frames. The patrons’ tables and chairs vibrated, and silverware and china danced across the tops. The dining room’s huge wrought-iron chandelier swayed overhead

Somewhere in the crowded room a voice called out, “Earthquake!”

“Here we go again!”

The room rocked from side to side. A number of voices rang out “Get under the tables!”

Ida grabbed my shoulder and pushed down. “Quick, sweetie, get down!” As we both dove under the table, I heard the sound of cracking wood followed by a deafening crash.

 

To be continued……..

 

Lori Gloyd © 2007

 

 

 

Ghost Town

(Inspired by Anita Marie’s quote from Chief Seattle.)

Dr. V’s words plagued me as I winged my way across the land. As is the case in Lemuria, normal laws of nature were skewed. The thick equatorial jungle where I had encountered Dr. Von Saxonburg and the jaguar quickly transitioned into a northern conifer forest, ocean fog spiraling through the trees. I almost missed Duwamish and sharply banked to make my landing. My leg throbbed where the jaguar had scratched me. Dr. V. had said that some wounds don’t heal quickly. I was not sure what she meant or even if I wanted to know.

I landed at the Night Riders’ livery stable, just on the edge of town. It was closed up and dark. I thought I heard the dull thud of shifting horses’ hooves but I could not be sure of that. It was just after dusk, and the sunlight, at least what was left of it, was obscured by the fog. I heard the moan of a buoy and the slapping of water on the dock. I walked between some weathered board-and-batten buildings, each as dark and lifeless as the livery. Several small boats were moored but their pilots and crews were no where to be seen.

Where is everyone? Duwamish Bay, at least the last time I visited, was a bustling town. It was if death had come for a visit and everyone was hiding.

I hurried to the center of town. Between the Post Office and the Mercantile store was the Duwamish Bay Inn. Every window was dark. In front of the City Hall was a totem pole. Painted in white, red, and black, the carved pole of forest animals towered over me. At the very top was the Thunder Bird, wings outstretched and beak wide open as if to speak.

“The dead have power too” I spun around. I could see no one. “The dead have power too” I turned back. The whisper came from the Thunder Bird.

“Are you speaking to me? Who are you? Where is everyone?” There was no answer.

I shivered and it was not from the cold and dampness.

I ran to the front door of the Inn and pounded on it. “Hello? Ida? Are you there? Anybody? Let me in!” My voice was rising to a panic.

Then, I heard a rustle behind me. I turned from the door and stared into the descending greyness of the town square. I thought I saw a movement–then another, and then another one. Figures were moving about, transparent and silent. They looked through me with hollow eyes, as if I wasn’t there–as if I were dead.

I sank to the wooden steps on the Inn’s porch. I hugged my knees. As if I were dead… I felt as if all life had abandoned me— all friends, all allies. I felt worthless and as if every good thing I had even done in my life had suddenly been rendered irrelevant. I was as dead and forgotten as the ghosts roaming around me.

I ached to the core of my being.

Then, I remember the bag at my side and Dr. V’s words. I reached into my bag and found the candlestick and a box of matches.

With trembling hands, I struck the match and touched it to the candlewick.

Lori Gloyd © 2007

Lessons Learned

As I start on the Heroic Journey, I have learned some lessons:

1) When the time is right, an opportunity will appear.

2) Going deep within ourselves can be dangerous and painful.

3) Help comes from the most unlikely sources.

4) Use all the gifts that you have been given for your journey.

See posts Into the Blue and Into the Deep Part I, Part II, and Part III.

Lori Gloyd (c) 2007

Into the Deep, Part III

“Uh? You’re who?”

“Amara Von Saxonberg” A young woman, about 30 or so, stood before me.

“Do I know you?” I eased myself off the bough.

“Let me help you. Oooooo, honey, that’s one nasty scratch. What were you thinking trying to pet that cat?” She helped me to the ground. “Sit,” she commanded as she started pawing through her backpack.

“How was I supposed to know it was going to attack me?”

“It was a jaquar. What did you expect?”

“I DIDN’T expect a figment of my imagination to draw blood! This is, after all, the inside of my mind.”

“Don’t you know that the most hurtful things we encounter come from deep within our minds. And the deeper you go, the scarier it gets.” She unrolled some cotton gauze and pulled a tube of anti-bacterial cream from her bag.

“What are you? Some sort of shrink?”

“No, I am not a psychologist, although the human brain, or lack of one, does intrigue me. I’m an archeologist, anthropologist, and independent scholar.”

“Independent scholar?”

“I got fired.”

“Oh… you said you were looking for me?”

“Yes. I was supposed to meet you on the other side of the portal and point you towards Duwamish. You shinnied down the cliff before I could get to you. Why in the world didn’t you use the wings in your bag.”

“I forgot I had them.”

“Look, you are not going to get anywhere in Lemuria or in the Universe in general if you don’t use the gifts you are given.”

“Enchanteur sent you, right?” I winced as she began cleaning my wound. “Ouch!”

“Sorry. Yes, I was in the neighborhood and she asked me to check on you.”

“You were in the neighborhood?”

“Yes.” Dr. V. pulled a book out of her bag.

I turned my head to read the title. “Mountaintops of Lemuria… you’re looking for the real Lemuria? I thought it was all in the mind.”

“Well, maybe I’m out of my mind!” Dr. V chuckled at her own pun.

“Great. A comedienne.” I hauled myself to my feet. “Okay, which way do I go towards Duwamish”

“That way” she pointed towards the brush.

“Is there a footpath?”

Dr. V sighed. “Aren’t you listening?”

I paused for a moment then said “The wings?”

“You got it. You’re going to fly up, find the River and follow it to the Bay.”

She picked up her bag. “I’m off now. Catch you later.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“No, I’ve got an ancient ruin to find. Give my regards to the Ferry Women. Oh, you’d better get that scratch tended to when you get to the Inn. You may need a tetanus shot.”

“Why? Can’t someone just wave a magic wand over it?”

Dr. V turned sober and pointed a finger towards my heart. “Some wounds don’t heal so quickly, my dear.”

She turned her back towards me and disappeared into the jungle.

Story and digital construction by Lori Gloyd (c) 2007

Into the Deep, Part II

The jaguar’s whiskers twitched as she continued to glare at me. I could feel the sweat trickling down my back and hear insects buzzing in the still jungle air. I slowly stepped backward towards the trunk of the tree. When I felt my feet bump its gnarled roots, I reached around it with my arms, keeping my eyes on the cat, and very slowly began climbing the tree. When I reached the bough where the monkey had been, I settled myself there and pulled up my legs. I wondered how high a jaguar could jump.

 

As I climbed the tree, the jaguar had tucked her legs under her body and crouched, never once taking her eyes off me. Now, she rose and, with a silky grace, ambled to the foot of the tree. She began rubbing her head on the tree. I thought I could detect a purr coming from her.

 

I relaxed a bit. I am in my own imagination, in my own mind…there is nothing here that can harm me.

 

I watched the jaguar. She was a stunningly elegant creature. The tawny gold and black rosettes of her pelt gleamed under the patchy shafts of sunlight that cut through the foliage. Her fur looked so soft and luxuriant that I wanted to reach out and stroke it.

Nothing here can hurt me. I dropped my legs from the bough and shifted my weight to come down from the tree.

 

In a movement too fast for me to react, the cat leaped from the ground, and with one large paw, claws extended, she raked my thigh. I screamed and hauled myself back onto the bough. At first, I felt nothing, then a searing pain spread out from the tear in my jeans and I could see the first ooze of blood. I started patting my jeans and fortunately found that a bandana had been placed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and applied pressure to my leg.

 

To my horror, the cat was crouching and making preparation to leap again. Still holding the leg, I tried to pull myself higher into the tree.

 

Suddenly, a wailing cry emanated from the jungle growth, echoing through the trees. It was an other-worldly ululation, which reminded me of a cross between a Rebel yell and a Middle-Eastern zaghareet. Both the cat and I froze in place and stared into the jungle. A stone came flying out of the brush and hit the jaguar in the rump. She snarled once and then bounded away into the growth.

 

The wailing continued and grew louder, and the growth on the opposite side of the clearing began thrashing about. Somehow my fear was not at all abated. Something mighty must be coming, something that could scare away a hungry jaguar.

 

Then, the leaves and vines parted and a woman entered the clearing.

 

“Who are you?” I croaked.

 

“Dr. Von Saxonberg. Amara Von Saxonberg. And I’ve been looking all over for you!”

 

To be continued….

 

Lori Gloyd © 2007

Into the Deep, Part I

My first trip through the portal last year had been a bumpy one, almost landing me in a huge mud puddle in the middle of a rolling country-side. This time, however, it was much different. I materialized slowly and it took a moment or two for my vision to clear and my legs to gather strength. I must be getting the hang of trans-dimensional travel, I thought.

My first view was a carpet of green under a blue sky. As my thoughts coalesced, I realized I was looking at the top of a jungle canopy. I gazed down to my feet and saw my toes hanging over the treetops. I gasped and craned my neck all around. I was standing on a rocky ledge, no more than a few feet square, jutting from the face of a sheer cliff. The cliff soared above me for another hundred feet or so. The distance to the jungle floor I could not determine. I pushed myself against the cliff and away from the edge. In the far distance I could see the ocean on the horizon and an indentation into the coast that could only be Duwamish Bay.

I realized that there was no way I could climb up the rock face. The road to Duwamish, if there was one through this jungle, would be down, somewhere under the canopy. The cliff face was covered with brush, and vines draped down from some huge trees at the top of the cliffs. I reached out and tugged a couple of the vines. They seemed strong enough.

“Well, Lysandra said I needed to go deeper into Lemuria. I guess she wasn’t kidding.” I grabbed hold of two of the sturdiest vines and began my ascent into the darkness of the jungle.

I easily found footholds in the rock face. The going was slow, but I made steady progress down the escarpment until I reached the top of the canopy. I worked my way through the thick growth. The deeper I descended the darker it got.

As I moved down through the leaves and branches, birds in blues, gold and scarlet erupted and took flight, squawking in anger. I thought about what other jungle creatures might be in the trees: poisonous snakes, giant insects, and, worst of all, big, nasty spiders. I tried to keep my eyes open for them.

I felt something bumping the side of my leg. I looked down and noticed that I had been dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt. There was a small bag dangling against my leg attached to a belt loop. Enchanteur’s bag! I groaned. No doubt there was probably some magical trinket in the bag that I could have used to ease my descent. Since I could not let go of the vines to look in the bag, I continued on.

I nearly lost my grip when, suddenly, to my left, the tree leaves began thrashing about and a flash of brown exploded from the canopy. A monkey, whom, no doubt, I had disturbed, tumbled past me, flinging from vine to vine. He screeched at me what I assumed to be monkey expletives as he headed to the jungle floor.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Didn’t mean to scare YOU.”

Before I could further ponder my violation of jungle etiquette, I found my feet touching the ground in a small clearing in the trees. I had made it.

I untangled myself from the vines and began brushing the leaves and dirt from my clothes. Suddenly, I felt a yank at my side that almost pulled me down and heard the sound of tearing cloth.

The monkey, the same one I had startled in the trees, was galloping across the clearing, my bag clutched to his chest.

“Hey!” I took off after him. “Gimme my bag!”

The monkey scurried up a large tree and settled himself on a tree bough.

“That’s mine! Give it bac—“

I stopped shouting. There was no point in arguing with a monkey, no matter how much he looked like some humans I know. I bent down and scooped up a handful of stones from the ground. I started lobbing them at the monkey who screamed in protest from the bough.

Panic started to settle on me. The rules clearly stated that one must never, ever let the bag fall into another’s hands. Enchanteur will be furious with me. I was about the pitch another stone.

“Give me my bag, you little b– —OUCH!”

The wretched little beast was hurling stones back at me!

Okay, THINK. I took a breath and walked to the base of the tree. I pointed a finger upward at the monkey and said in a quiet, cool and deadly tone, “You will give me my bag, or I… will… tell… Enchanteur…..” I made sure I added an extra hiss at the end of “Enchanteur” for dramatic effect.

The monkey stopped screeching. Good, I got his attention.

The monkey had frozen on the bough and stared towards me with a look of total horror. A moment later, he flung the bag over my head and took off into the jungle.

Gee, monkey, she’s not THAT scary…. I mused as I turned and bent over to pick up my bag. As I stood up, my eyes locked on another pair of eyes—big, yellow and menacing. About twenty-five feet away, at the edge of the clearing, crouched an enormous jaguar.

She stared at me and snarled.

 

To be continued………………….

Lori Gloyd (c) 2007

 

 

Into the Blue

It was still dark when I rose from bed. I slid open the doors to the balcony of my room and stepped into the pre-dawn chill. Before me was a lake as flat as glass and mirroring the blazing vault of the heavens.

I had come to Madame Lysandra’s lake-side home in the Mulberry Highlands a few days ago to participate in her annual viewing of the cherry blossoms. A number of poets and artists from all over Lemuria were there as well, and Lysandra’s gracious hospitality, once again, was praised and lauded by all.

But as much as I wanted to stay and enjoy her company, it was time to depart. I was all packed and ready to return to the City of Cyberia and the Taverna. I groaned inwardly as I thought of the condition my establishment would now be in– heel marks on the table tops, the rum supply utterly depleted, and the staff– oh dear, the staff. I could only imagine what kind of trouble Maximo, my bouncer, and Hans, my chef had gotten into by now.

I heard a quiet knock on the door. I returned to my room and opened it. It was Lysandra holding a folded blanket.

“Good morning or good night,as the case may be,” she said in a hushed voice. ” I heard you moving about and thought you may be looking for a comforter.”

“Oh, thank you, Lysandra. In fact, quite the opposite. It was a bit stuffy and I needed some cool air.”

Lysandra smiled as she usually did when she had something more to say. “Are you enjoying the starshine?” she asked.

We both strolled on to the balcony to survey the sky. “Yes, it is truly amazing. You don’t see this in Cyberia– too many lights.”

“Too much of many things, I should say.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have noticed something. May I tell you about it?”

I stiffened a bit, but nodded for her continue.

“You rushed to get up here. Now you are rushing to leave. You seem restless and pre-occupied.”

“No, not at all. I just needed a few days away from the City…to recharge… now I need to get back to the Tavern. You know… responsibilities and all?”

“Yes, I understand.”

We stood for a moment watching the stars pulse and twinkle. Lysandra was deep in thought.

Still staring at the lake, she broke the silence at last. “When was the last time you wrote?”

“Excuse me?”

“When was the last time you wrote a story?”

“A few weeks ago– well, maybe it was longer– why? I’ve been busy, you know– with the Tavern and the Kitchen–oh, and the Atelier– yes, I’ve been focusing on art-making at the moment….” I shifted uneasily on my feet. What was Lysandra up to?

She nodded and gazed at the night sky.

Finally, she turned towards me, her green eyes looking square into mine. “Yes,” she said with a bit of sharpness in her voice. “You need to leave here now.”

“Yes, I’m packed and I’ll leave after breakfast. We’re having French Toast, right.” I wanted to change the subject.

“No, you need to leave now. It’s time for the Journey.”

“Journey? What journey?… You don’t mean THE Journey, do you? I’ve done that already. I told you all about that, remember? How I got Syren and found Cyberia and the Taverna……”

“You need to go on The Heroine’s Journey.”

“But I’ve done that once. I found my voice. I don’t need to do it again.”

“You found your voice, my dear, but what have you done with it lately!”

I faded into a stunned silence. As gentle as Lysandra was, she could lance a person with just the tiniest shard of the truth.

“But I can’t do the Journey twice,” I whined.

“Who said you can’t? This is Lemuria– nothing is linear. Everything spirals and comes back around again. You’ve come back to a beginning and need to go again.”

“But the Journey is about entering Lemuria. I’m already here!”

Lysandra looked at me with bemusement. “Yes, this is Lemuria, but there are many layers to it–layers that take your farther, deeper, higher– wherever you NEED to go.”

“You sound just like Enchanteur!”

Lysandra chuckled. “Yes, She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed and I go a long way back. And she as well as I want you to step through the Portal and journey again. And you need to go NOW.”

“How can I go now? The Portal is miles and miles from here, in the Murmuring Woods!”

“The Portal is wherever you want it to be. Just look….” Lysandra gestured toward the sky.

I squinted my eyes. Something was moving. A speck of blue seemed to be spinning. It grew larger and larger until it filled all the night sky. A wind off the lake picked up and began to blow across the balcony. I wanted to run away but I could not move.

I heard Lysandra whispering in my ear, “Step into the blue, my dear, and go deeper into yourself, farther into Lemuria. Find out what you need to say…..”

My mind was spinning. My first journey had been an amazing yet terrifying endeavor. Now I was being asked to go again. I did not want to go. If the first time had been hard, what would the second be like?

But I could not resist the Call. Enchanteur was calling again, through my friend Lysandra. I sighed. With my eyes on the swirling blue vortex, I began to climb over the railing of the balcony……

Text and digital constructions by Lori Gloyd (c) 2007