The harp music continues to call him and whatever tonic Lady Oolong made for him has nearly lost all its strength. He starts walking towards a street full of two-storey buildings. In the background he sees the spiral tower of a church or what he believes is a church. People bustle along the street. The image of the bewitching vampire with the succulent voice overwhelms him. He guesses that the ointment Lady Elsewhere covered his face and upper body with made his visible skin invisible to the vampire, but what about the necklace with the key? His right palm feels a lump in the pocket of his trench coat. He slides it inside. There’s a wide, thin jar and a piece of paper. Ignoring both he feels around his chest until he finds the key. He carefully unclasps it. As soon as he does it becomes visible. He holds it before him, and a blue light emits from the onyx stone within the key’s head.
His eyes widen as his mouth opens in disbelief. An endless menagerie of living stories occurs everywhere. A wolf fleeing humans. A little girl huddling in a closet. A man and woman intimate on a beach. Flashes go off and there’s a dog wagging his tail as he greets the sister he was separated from. The ever-changing images overwhelm his senses and he shuts his eyelids.
Fumbling with the key he manages to get it clasped onto the chain. When he opens his eyes, its just the busy street before him now. Except. Some of the people are swimming through the air.
The key used in the cover is from a picture of skeleton keys taken by Dianne McBride diannemcb@gmail.com
He finds himself now staring through a wispy wall of fog down a winding stairway. In the distance he can see the shadows of buildings. In his head plays the barely audible beckoning sound of harp strings. The scar on his chest begins to move rhythmically. Although he can’t see his hands, he can still feel them. Closing his eyelids, he focuses on the proprioception action of buttoning on his shirt. Next, he puts on his vest and trench coat. He raises his transparent hands before his now open eyes. As an albino he was always told his skin has no colour. Now he wonders if he is truly colourless. Tangible but invisible.
Fully clothed, he starts to walk down the steps. Anger fills him at the thought of being drugged by Lady Elsewhere. When he was younger, he often had to fight to survive. Both his parents have vitiligo, and he knows they were often treated harshly. But no one considered them magical, until he was born. Perhaps that was why, when the traveling Impi warrior, Msizi found them huddled behind a rock on the shores of Victoriara Lake, he took pity on them. Msizi fled his homeland, Zululanderra, after it was conquered and renamed. He was the tallest man Dimoso had ever seen, and his own parents are tall.
As they traveled together towards Tunisiarra, to find a ship to Londonerra, where his parents hoped he would be safe, Msizi taught Dimoso the Bantu language. One day, he saw Msizi standing on a knoll with his assegai spear and cowhide shield, staring into the distance while singing. He walked in front of Msizi, so the warrior would know he was there, and asked, “What is that song?”
“Rage,” the warrior replied in his baritone voice. “Stand beside me and learn it while I watch for enemy and game.”
They say I am weak for not inhaling cohoba
And seeing what is hidden
They say I am weak for not drinking mampoer
To the point of oblivion
But I am stronger than they
For I am always full of rage
It lurks inside waiting to lash out
I am strong for not inhaling or imbibing
Because if I wasn’t
You would be dead
There’s something you don’t understand
Rage doesn’t care about the vessel it uses
Rage doesn’t care who it destroys in its path
Over the half year it took to reach Tunisiarra he learned to read and write from his parents and how to track and fight from Msizi. Only a few times did he see his mentor rage. Msizi warned him ahead of time to stay away. “It is not when I’m shouting angerly but when I go still,” Msizi explained.
He didn’t have that kind of rage inside him thankfully. But he also never wanted to find out. So, he stayed away from laudanum and the underground opium dens that filled the catacombs of Londera.
One step after another, he goes further into this strange place, and as he does, the harp strings beckon to him ever louder.
As Chief Shabuni enters the block of ice he sees something different than the city he originally saw. How much did Lady Oolong’s tincture warp his thoughts? In front of him in shades of white and blue are elongated buildings within an egg-shaped vignette. “What–,” he begins to say when he hears Lady Oolong’s voice singing in his head.
Welcome to the Dreamscape Chief Shabuni
Where the bend of everything occurs
Welcome to the Dreamscape Chief Shabuni
That terrifying place in dreams
When everything, everything makes sense
Just one more step forward Chief Shabuni…
He stares down and sees endlessness through where his upper body and arms should be. His eyelids instinctively squeeze shut. His right hand covers the scar on his chest.
A soprano voice, he knows from the real place he has departed, calls to him.
Find me, Dimoso
In the place I fully exist
In the place I feel real
In the place I never thought
Thought we could meet…
He takes a step forward.
I asked Dianne McBride to send me one of her abstract art pieces with the theme of buildings.
Original abstract art by Dianne McBride diannemcb@gmail.com
Chief Shabuni steps into a natural corridor where everything is tinted blue. Giant trees grow everywhere along a carpet of stones. Directly before him is the root in the shape of a nest. A little farther away is another block of ice. He hears Lady Oolong’s voice in his head, your clothes are beside you. Gather them but don’t wear them yet. As he gazes around for his shirt, vest, and trench coat he notices his chest, belly, and arms are invisible. His heart begins to race.
Don’t forget to grab a few of the shimmering stones in the shape of eggs, Lady Steamsail’s voice tells him.
He sees a leather bag with drawstrings on top of his clothes. As he bends down to gather a few eggs he opens his mouth to ask why. His eyes bulge painfully as he feels his breath rush out. Desperate for air he grabs two of the oblong rocks and tosses them into the bag. Without hesitation he picks up his clothes and heads towards the block of ice.
Through the ice he sees a bustling street. There’s something strange about the people but he can’t worry about that. His body is crying out for air.
As he takes a step forward the image in the block of ice disappears into swirls of mist. There’s a face behind the whisps of grey. He’s nearly at the block when he jolts to a stop. A woman with enchanting green eyes stares arrogantly back at him. His skin crawls in horror at the sight of her sharp fangs and the blood stains that run down from the corners of her mouth.
I see a stovepipe hat with goggles, she sings in a mocking tone.
Trousers and shoes
And absolutely nothing holding clothes
And a leather bag
A spectre, a wight, a ghost?
She inhales from her nose.
A tinge of magical power
But not anyone I’m looking for
You may pass
He realizes its good that he held his breath in terror the whole time she sang. The image of the street reappears and he dashes towards it before there is no oxygen left inside him.
* The Other Place continues from where the Steampunk hybrid story, Books by Authors Who Never Existed, leaves off.
He feels the coolness of her fingers against his skin as she places a thin chained gold necklace with a single bronze skeleton key around his neck. In the centre of the skeleton key’s head is an onyx gemstone that glows. He looks towards the China cabinet as he hears Lady Oolong strum the lute while Lady Steamsail dings a crystal bell. The tiny gemstones in their skeleton key earrings are also radiating; one green, the other blue.
Lady Raven unties his wrists. “Come with me,” she says.
As he stands up to follow, he hears Lady Oolong sing:
Chief Shabuni,
I hear you’ve met my sisters
And you’re wondering
You’re wondering…
What are the key earrings for…
Do they have anything to…
Do with the slab of ice…
That never melts?
Chief Shabuni,
Chief Shabuni…
Have you ever heard of…
The Other Place?
Before him is the entrance to the kitchen. In the centre of the ceramic floor is a slab of ice that appears wet but doesn’t seem to melt. Within the slab he sees the thick tree root of a giant tree. The root is curved into a circle that reminds him of a nest. Within the nest are glowing blue rocks.
“My sisters will follow you soon,” Lady Elsewhere tells him. “Lady Iris, who you should now address as Countess Idris, is already there. She is staying in a suite within the Crimson Red Hotel.
While Lady Oolong continues to sing and Lady Steamsail dings the crystal bell, Lady Elsewhere gives him a silver goblet with a dark amber liquid inside. “It will help you travel.” As he sips the viscous contents with the strong alcohol and nutmeg taste, Lady Elsewhere undoes the buttons of his trench coat and the vest underneath. His head begins to spin as she fingers a scar in the shape of a pixie on his right pec. “It moves when I touch it,” he hears her say with interest. “Does our chief have a secret friend?” He vaguely sees her undo the lid of a jar. Her long fingers are icy as she coats his face, chest, back and arms with a jell that smells of frankincense. “The nest before you is where the antigravity stones come from. We call it the Between Place. There are numerous nests between your reality, The Other Place, and The Place That Never Existed. Step into the nest Chief Shabuni. We will see you soon….” He steps forward.
Dianne McBride is a multitalented artist. She can be reached at diannemcb@gmail.com.
Dianne was kind enough to let me alter her picture for the cover of The Other Place.
Nandita Khandelwal, M.Sc. is a geologist, health coach, author, and lover of dance. Determined to write an authentic book about her passion for dancing she sought out three of India’s renowned dance performers/artists: Jainil Mehta, En Lai, and Nicole Concessao. With their collaboration Nandita has created a book that tells each of their stories both in words and pictures.
The Dance Effect is a window into the struggles and successes of real dance artists. A glimpse into how they got started to where they are now. This is a wonderful book for lovers of dance, students, parents, teachers, and of course professional dancers.
After four or more years of writing a weekly story/blog (sometimes alone, other times with a collaborator–Taylor Norris, RMT and Model) I will be taking a hiatus to focus on passing a course, creating one, and some other projects.
When I do start again, if someone is interested in “volunteering” as a model to portray a character I will certainly consider it. The reciprocity is I promote your “appropriate” business or charity. You own the picture(s) I, or I and a co-writer own the character.
There was a number of volunteer character models for the Steampunk hybrid story Books By Authors Who Never Existed.
Chief Shabuni blinks but his vision remains too blurred to see clearly. He realizes he’s sitting up with his wrists tied to the armrests of a chair. After a few moments his other senses kick in. He can smell cinnamon and peppermint. Every so often he hears the dampened sound of a steam powered vehicle going by. Keeping his eyes open he starts to see images clearly but his peripheral vision is still blurry. He realizes he’s sitting in front of the China cabinet at Lady Evelyn Oolong’s Tea Store. First, he sees Lady Marina Steamsail. She’s sipping from a China cup. A little behind, to the right of Lady Steamsail, he sees Lady Evelyn Oolong, with a six-string lute in her hands.
“A very special individual will be dropping by soon, Chief Shabuni,” Lady Steamsail tells him. She picks up a separate cup of steaming tea and lifts it to his lips. “First though, my sister asked me to brew this wonderful tonic for you.”
The taste of the tea is soothing, similar to the valerian tea Lady Oolong gave him only a day ago. But this tea has something piney, and even hotter than the tea itself. He glances at the two ladies as he drinks down the rest of the tea.
From somewhere behind him he hears a door open followed by heeled steps coming towards him. The one person he never wants to meet is just visible to his right. Her long, shiny raven hair falls around her heart shaped face, accentuating her thick succulent lips and ends in strands that highlight her glistening ebony bosom, pressed out by a midnight blue corset with a laced top. The fangs that press against her lower lip as she smiles, terrify him. But once he looks up into her almond shaped eyes; he forgets everything else.
In the distance he hears the two ladies say in unison, “Mother.”
“Play and sing Eve. Mar, tap your crystal bell. The frequency must be perfect,” Lady Raven Elsewhere says in a voice that is both enchanting and ethereal.
He feels the coolness of her fingers against his skin as she places a thin strand gold necklace with a single bronze skeleton key around his neck. In the centre of the skeleton key’s head is an onyx gemstone that glows. He looks towards the China cabinet as he hears Lady Oolong strum the lute while Lady Steamsail dings a crystal bell. The tiny gemstones in their skeleton key earrings are also radiating. One green, the other blue.
Lady Raven unties his wrists. “Come with me,” she says.
As he stands up to follow, he hears Lady Oolong sing:
A common occurrence for both A Motley Sisterhood Of Pirates! and Books By Authors Who Never Existed is the use of weapons by Fireandsteel.ca (fireandsteel.com as well now).
These are weapons made exclusively by Fire and Steel. This a very cool company that is made up of a mixture of martial artists who love everything from fantasy fiction, science fiction, Marvel, D.C., Manga, Anime, etc. And they’re all ruled (more Gandalf than Sauron—she loves Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Eagles, maybe humans) by a Nuclear Physicist/martial artist/traveler/lover all the things I’ve already mentioned/and more…Laura Suen
Chief Shabuni blinks but his vision remains too blurred to see clearly. He realizes he’s sitting up with his wrists tied to the armrests of a chair. After a few moments his other senses kick in. He can smell cinnamon and peppermint. Every so often he hears the dampened sound of a steam powered vehicle going by. Keeping his eyes open he starts to see images clearly but his peripheral vision is still blurry. He realizes he’s sitting in front of the China cabinet at Lady Evelyn Oolong’s Tea Store. First, he sees Lady Marina Steamsail. She’s sipping from a China cup. A little behind, to the right of Lady Steamsail, he sees Lady Evelyn Oolong, with a six-string lute in her hands.
“A very special individual will be dropping by soon, Chief Shabuni,” Lady Steamsail tells him. She picks up a separate cup of steaming tea and lifts it to his lips. “First though, my sister asked me to brew this wonderful tonic for you.”
The taste of the tea is soothing, similar to the valerian tea Lady Oolong gave him only a day ago. But this tea has something piney, and even hotter than the tea itself. He glances at the two ladies as he drinks down the rest of the tea.
From somewhere behind him he hears a door open followed by heeled steps coming towards him. The one person he never wants to meet is just visible to his right. Her long, shiny raven hair falls around her heart shaped face, accentuating her thick succulent lips and ends in strands that highlight her glistening ebony bosom, pressed out by a midnight blue corset with a laced top. The fangs that press against her lower lip as she smiles, terrify him. But once he looks up into her almond shaped eyes; he forgets everything else.
In the distance he hears the two ladies say in unison, “Mother.”
“Play and sing Eve. Mar, tap your crystal bell. The frequency must be perfect,” Lady Raven Elsewhere says in a voice that is both enchanting and ethereal.
He feels the coolness of her fingers against his skin as she places a thin strand gold necklace with a single bronze skeleton key around his neck. In the centre of the skeleton key’s head is an onyx gemstone that glows. He looks towards the China cabinet as he hears Lady Oolong strum the lute while Lady Steamsail dings a crystal bell. The tiny gemstones in their skeleton key earrings are also radiating. One green, the other blue.
Lady Raven unties his wrists. “Come with me,” she says.
As he stands up to follow, he hears Lady Oolong sing:
A common occurrence for both A Motley Sisterhood Of Pirates! and Books By Authors Who Never Existed is the use of weapons by Fireandsteel.ca (fireandsteel.com as well now).
These are weapons made exclusively by Fire and Steel. This a very cool company that is made up of a mixture of martial artists who love everything from fantasy fiction, science fiction, Marvel, D.C., Manga, Anime, etc. And they’re all ruled (more Gandalf than Sauron—she loves Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Eagles, maybe humans) by a Nuclear Physicist/martial artist/traveler/lover all the things I’ve already mentioned/and more…Laura Suen
“You see,” The Inventor says to Mr. Clockwind, who is stilled dressed in black, and continues to have a constant dazed expression. Which The Inventor is pleased with. It means, the clockmaker still hasn’t awoken from the injection. “I often dream of my twin. It wasn’t until a few months ago, when Lady Raven Elsewhere invited me to tea, that I learned these particular dreams are not a subconscious construct of imagination, but a real place. The Other Place. It means there is a way for me to get all of my twin back.”
The Inventor leads Mr. Clockwind out of the steam delivery truck and up the stairs to Lady Elsewhere’s mansion. “Lady Elsewhere wants someone else back, a Mr. Intrepid. Now, I’m going to keep my word and let you go, but Chief Shabuni—well, he’s going to the Other Place. However, in order for him to return, he needs a clock that exists between our existence and The Other Place’s.”
“I have the gravity stones.” He smirks as he recalls sending his automaton to steal the crystals Mr. Claws discovered in the Arcticterra. “Lady Elsewhere and her associates, have skeleton keys, each pair with its own stones; but we don’t yet have a clock. A clock that hovers, so as to be between two places simultaneously. I suspect my newly acquired books contain the solution to that problem.”
***
Mr. Clockwind continues to keep his face loose and stare absently ahead. It isn’t time to use the coiled spring wire, yet. However, now he needs to get it to Chief Shabuni, if he can. Proper time is essential for making plans. Sometimes, to thwart those plans, it’s necessary to slow, or speed time up.
***
Once again, I’d like to thank Brandon Gray for portraying The Inventor. And his wife, Robin Gray, for suiting him up and taking his pictures.
Robin Gray can be reached at @grayandwhitelaw Custom Decor and Designs
Your accomplishments are amazing and overwhelming. I’ve been following you for awhile. You play well alone and with others. You are also a very clear and passionate instructor. A celloist…, collaborator, composer, and to borrow from Kevin Hart: always evolving. A businesswoman who earns what she gets, and a realist.
Caedar Writing & Artwork 