Louise of Liverpool

The door slammed open and a rain-drenched man stumbled into Fiddlers Hall. Strains of Vivaldi's 'Spring' from the 'Four Seasons', came from somewhere behind him. He was dressed overall in black: jeans, t-shirt, and boots. The ensemble was completed with a long ponytail and thick, full beard. His eyes shifted around the empty hall until he spotted me. "Louise is coming!" He set a compact, expensive violin case on the floor.

Nodding, I continued tuning my fiddle.

"You knew?" Sheridan asked and leaned wearily against the wall. "How?"

I paused. "Friends among the storm winds warned me."

He shook his head. "I should have guessed."

"You could have known." My only rebuke after his decades of absence.

No response but I watched his eyes flick up from the floor to look at me and away.

Slowly, due to the pain in my knees, I stood and walked widdershins around the rectangular room using my bow dragging on the floor to create a magic border, keeping it close to the walls. I needed as much room as possible within. Once the magic perimeter was closed, I would call for reinforcements and they would fill the room. We would need as many as could come. I'd open the room for the next arrival. Whoever arrived next could open the room for the rest.

"Are you in or out?" I asked Sheridan as I came to where he stood.

"Not sure." He sighed.

"Some things never change." I shook my head as my protective ward closed with him on the outside with an almost audible snap.

After sitting down, I closed my eyes, brought my fiddle and bow up and chose 'Boys of Bluehill.' It was a lively, toe-tapping tune, one that would reach out and draw the other fiddlers' attention as well as serve as my call for help. Investing it with my power ensured all the Elders in the valley would hear.

It would take some time for Tom and Moira, who lived in the valley on the other side of the lake, to get here. I made myself as comfortable as possible in the folding chair in the center of the hall. This was where we came to practice, hold concerts in the summer months, and use our fiddles to cast spells of healing and protection for the valley and our people. Our fiddling was the only way we channeled the power of Wild Magic. Our ancestors had learned the long ago no other method was safe.

As I played, I watched Sheridan. The years had been far kinder to him than to me, but that was one of the benefits of leaving the valley and the burden of being an Elder behind. He was thin, with a mane of black hair and expensive clothes not well-suited to the cold rains. The flesh beneath his chin was taut and firm and his hands free of age spots.

He felt my gaze and looked up with the sparkling blue eyes that were the mark of those born with power in the valley. Lightning lit up the world outside the hall. It gave me a chill to see it reflected in his eyes.

"Time in the valley has been hard on you, Kennard."

"My joints tell me that every day. Protecting the valley comes at a cost. I've paid it willingly over the years and still do. All of us would." I ignored the twinge of pain that spiked up my spine as I shifted in my chair.

"You may have to pay the ultimate price." Sheridan looked away, then sighed. "There is no reasoning with her. She's used up the magic from all the defenseless places. The reservoirs in the major cities are too well protected."

"Is she hurt? If so, we'll gladly heal her." But that couldn't be the case. If she had serious injuries, she couldn't summon the storm she tried to use to mask her approach.

Sheridan shook his head. "She isn't injured. I suspect she's experiencing the same thing I am. While the magic from outside the valley can slow our aging, it doesn't stop it. Even if I'm wrong this is the last place she would come for help."

It was my turn to sigh. The valley was a wondrous place to grow up. Centuries ago our Irish ancestors came over from England, the area known as Liverpool for the most part, following the magic with our fiddles as it migrated to the New World and settled in the valley. The Wild Magic helped us to hide the valley from the waves of people we foresaw coming in the future and kept us from having to move again in the last three centuries.

Our forbearers created a self-contained, close-knit community. We wielded magic by fiddling. Those who fiddled, fit in, and wielded magical power but paid the price of a shorter life and rapid aging. Everyone else farmed the land. To protect the valley, our magic, and way of life we avoided the outside world and its technology.

"Is there anything we could do?"

He shrugged. "Louise is your twin, you should know."

I ignored his jab for never having been close to her. "Louise kept her own counsel even as a child. After all these years, I would no more know her mind than that of a stranger."

Louise, Sheridan, and I had been the only children born to the valley after a decade without a single child being conceived. The long time between births had frightened the Elders, who thought it was a sign the Wild Magic had forsaken them. As if to make up for it, each of us had been gifted with powers of magic that came only to a select few of those born here. Due to our age and the special training the magic required, we were rarely apart. We knew each other well but never became true friends. At best, we were collaborators, more often competitors, and on some occasions, enemies.

Louise, my younger sister by minutes, was mercurial, intelligent, and ambitious. She rankled under the restrictions placed upon her by the Elders in matters both magical and mundane. Her curiosity and drive put her in constant opposition with them and eventually forced her to leave the valley.

Despite being twins, we couldn't have been more different. I craved the approval of those who came before me, wanted to know anything they could teach me about the valley, its magic, and how to protect it. I thought being the Lead Fiddler and Head Elder was all that any of us should wish to be.

By our early twenties, Louise escaped the valley and the burden of being an Elder while I joyfully joined their ranks.

Sheridan had been caught between us. More of a musician than scholar, he kept pace with us academically but without our fire to learn. What he lacked in curiosity, he made up for in talent. Of the three of us, he possessed the most innate musical and magical gifts.

For a time, in their late teens, Sheridan and Louise were entangled in a tempestuous love affair. The Elders hoped they would tame one another and make their home in the valley but instead they left sullen and unfulfilled. She went in search of wealth and power. Sheridan walked away, gifted on the fiddle and vocally, he knew he would never be happy using only one of his gifts for the magic of the valley. Both Sheridan and Louise went to universities to learn more about music having had their fill of valley magic lessons.

There are two types of magically gifted people who played the violin. The first group played the fiddle, loved earthy, unrestrained music and used Wild Magic to protect and serve the needs of the people and the valley. People in the second group were drawn to the structured, cultured sounds of classical music that called upon either White or Black magic. More often than not they succumbed to the temptations of darkness.

Time passed and we each moved on with our lives. I stayed in the valley, and took over my father's farm, place as Lead Fiddler, and lost track of them. My music and magic kept the valley's residents healthy, their crops and livestock bountiful, and the valley safe from outsiders. Maura, my wife, a second cousin, gave me two daughters and a son to raise.

Neither Sheridan nor Louise came back to meet with the Elders. Until now.

"What do you want, Sheridan?" I asked but before he could answer, the door opened and my son, Adam, entered.

"Da, I heard your call. There's a bad storm brewing. Wha--" He stopped when he saw Sheridan. We only allowed outsiders to the valley in summer when we held concerts and collected the little amount of money we needed to interact with the rest of the world. Behind him, I heard Vivaldi's 'Summer' playing, louder now, even over the sound of the rain. Louise was getting closer.

"Adam, this is Sheridan."

"Yes, I know." He put down his fiddle case, reached out and shook Sheridan's hand.

It bothered me to see the arthritic knobs on my son's knuckles in comparison to Sheridan's thin, still youthful hands. Sheridan was in his fifth decade like me while Adam had only just begun his third. Wielding the magic of the valley aged him quickly.

"It's been a few years since you came to see us. The children miss learning new songs from you." Adam told Sheridan with an apologetic look to me.

My eyebrows rose in surprise. When had Sheridan been here?

Sheridan saw my reaction. "I love the valley in my own way, Kennard. It was the Elders and their ways that drove me away, not the people. If they could change with the times, embrace a greater variety of music and magic again, more of us would stay or at least not hide when we return."

"There are ample people who stay for love of the old ways." I argued.

"Still fewer than when I left." Sheridan countered.

"There is a picture of you on our mantel. You haven't changed much." Adam interrupted us -- ever the peacemaker, my Adam.

"No. Life outside the valley isn't as hard," Sheridan answered with a shrug.

I stood and clapped Adam on the shoulder, breaking my magical wards on the hall, and interrupting their conversation. My slap hit harder than necessary, despite the pain in my knuckles; it hurt knowing Adam hid something from me.

"Join me in the call after you reset the protections." I told him and returned to my chair, bringing another from its resting place against the wall. After I opened it and placed it next to mine, I picked up my fiddle. This time I played 'Boil them cabbage down.' Another fast reel, with quick fingering and short bow strokes. In moments, Adam sat beside me after he gave Sheridan a hard look for staying outside the ward.

Before we finished the tune, Tom and Moira, a young married couple, entered the hall carrying their fiddle cases. Their backs were stooped and bowed as though the instruments weighed almost more than they could bear. Water ran from their cloaks and puddled on the floor. The rain had become a downpour. Concern showed on their faces when they saw me and Adam but each smiled when they caught sight of Sheridan.

"How are your twins?" Sheridan touched Moira lightly on the shoulder in welcome.

With an apologetic glance at me, she answered. "Singing like two songbirds in a tree. Thanks to your lessons."

"They are naturally gifted. I taught them some basics and gave encouragement, that is all."

"We are facing an attack." I snapped at Tom and Moira, reminding them of my call.

Tom flinched and guided Moira away from the door. While they positioned themselves beside me, Sheridan took advantage of the open ward, moved to the center of the room and took out his violin, a beautiful caramel colored one. It's tuning pegs and bridge were darker wood. It shone despite the dim light. He used his bow, the same color as the pegs, to draw a circle of protection on the floor around him.

Adam gave me a smile to reassure me and redid the protections. His were stronger than either of Tom or Moira's. Adam's skill matched mine, which meant he would be the next Lead Fiddler, but I feared for his soft-hearted nature.

"Louise is coming," I said to Tom and Moira in a softer tone.

Sheridan's head tilted as Vivaldi's 'Fall' now sounded through the open door.

Despite not finishing our last song, I called out 'Wildwood Flower'. I chose a slower waltz tone now, teasing the Wild Magic with a change of pace. The calling needed to be renewed with each opening of the protections and a different tune used.

We played through it twice before the next four fiddlers arrived. Each was an Elder, older than me by a decade though they looked nearly double that. The winds howled behind them with a screeching, discordant sound, that made the classic strains of music all the more sinister. Each Elders smiled joyfully at Sheridan but asked no questions, simply grabbing chairs and joining our circle of players. They knew my calling and the music outside meant danger to the valley.

This time we played "Tennessee Waltz" and I used a sliding of my fingers and wrist so it sounded almost as though the violin sang the well-known words. Sheridan joined in, playing a more formal version in counterpoint to ours and invoking a powerful ward of protection around himself. As he played, he began to hum and sing the words to the song but too softly for me to hear clearly.

It angered me how he flaunted our customs, played with dangerous forces within Wild Magic, by daring to sing while we used it for the calling. Long before the Christian religion had come to the Old Country, our ancestors used all forms of music to harness the power of Wild Magic; singing chief among them. But our great singers grew so boastful and vain they challenged the gods themselves for power. The gods cast them down at great cost and swore to forsake us should we grow so full of hubris again. Our people gave up all forms of invoking magic but the violin and avoided the sin-filled world with its empty glories to stay true to our faith and the magic.

The other Elders exchanged fearful looks and watched me for a reaction. It saddened me they looked more frightened when they turned to me.

I forced myself to remain calm. It was Sheridan breaking our covenant, not one of the Elders. It was more important to finish the call than rebuke Sheridan so I played on.

By the time we finished the first run through, the last five of the Elders arrived and each took their seats with us. Their slow and deliberate movements made it obvious their joints pained them but the magic allowed them to play lively tunes despite stiff and arthritic joints.

My heart ached to force Clair to join us. The oldest of the Elders, nearly seventy, making the trek to the hall, in what now sounded like a hurricane, was hardest on her. Seeing her answer the call, I felt an overwhelming pride at her determination as well as a stab of fear. She looked so frail, her pale, thin skin hung loose from her jaw and neck, this could be her last time playing in the hall. A memory of her from years ago flashed across my mind. Long red hair, a lilting laugh, and warm blue eyes smiling as she taught me a tune.

Shaking my head to regain focus, I returned to the task at hand. Our circle was complete and our music would change from a call to a strengthening of the valley's magic defenses. 'Fall' still played in background when the latest arrivals walked through the door.

I nodded at Adam and he called out the next tune: a fast-paced, two-part melody. While the fiddlers played "Cotton-eyed Joe," I rose from my chair to talk with Sheridan. One last precaution to take.

"I'm surprised you can still play our music." I walked around him to check the window was closed and locked.

Sheridan continued playing but rolled his eyes at me. "Some things never change. You may look older but you're no wiser."

I stalked back around him, and waited for an explanation.

"You need to move forward with the times, at least a little bit. If you don't change, you, and the valley, will die." He told me.

"Never going to happen. The old ways are tried and true." I responded.

"That's why she's going to kick your ass." Sheridan shook his head.

"What does Louise want?" I frowned at his coarse language but took great pleasure in having circumscribed a perimeter of protection around him should I need to invoke another ward and protect us from him.

"To destroy the protections around the valley."

"Why?" I went to wall and brought a chair back.

"I don't know. We've not spoken for years. Even then she had plans to destroy the valley. We argued over it and I ran before she killed me. Our paths don't cross anymore. I was practicing this morning when I had a vision of her arrival. I had to be here. It frightened me."

Despite the years that passed, I thought I knew him well enough still to know he told the truth.

"What has she doing all this time away from the valley?"

"Conducting an orchestra in the Old Country, Liverpool, in fact. She gathered magic players from around the world. She's very powerful."

"You don't play classical music?"

"No. I play with Celtic bands."

I shook my head not understanding how he could squander his talent. I said as much.

"It doesn't matter. I've kept away from Louise. She is like you, drawn to power."

"And you kept away from me."

"That's right."

I shook my head. For me, it wasn't about power. Protecting the valley and magic was what I always wanted to do. If he knew me as well as he thought he did, he would know that.

"Don't shake your head. You have no self-awareness. Never did."

"How can I stop her?" I needed to defend the valley, not listen to Sheridan's accusations.

He looked away.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I had to be."

"Can you stop her?" I asked Sheridan.

"One-on-one, maybe, but not with her quartet. Using only violins, we won't stand against her attacks." The faces of the other Elders grew fearful.

"June Apple." Adam called another tune. This one always made me think of calling men to war.

"The Wild Magic will protect the valley and us." I told him with confidence and but the worry didn't fade from the other Elder's eyes.

"Are you sure? Wild Magic is unpredictable. It may need something different to attract and harness its power."

"Yes. It will stand with us." I knew the magic, worked with it every day. It spoke to me and loved me as much as I loved it. It would never let us down.

"It has been contained in the valley for centuries. That doesn't mean it is tamed." He said.

"You've been away for decades. You don't know it as well as I do."

"I've studied it using sources to which you have no access. It has been contained here too long. You think it consistent but it's not like White or Black magic. It's turning on itself and you. Why else do you think you age so quickly?"

I shook my head. "If you have no words of wisdom and do not know how to stop her, I am wasting precious time talking to you." I dismissed him and walked back to my chair among the fiddlers.

We finished playing 'June Apple' and they looked to me to choose the next song. There was doubt in their eyes, seeded by Sheridan's words. I thought for a moment and started 'Devil's Dream.' It was wickedly fast and full of defiance.

Sheridan raised his eyebrows at my choice but joined in. I caught appreciative smiles among the Elders.

As we played, the winds picked up and rain battered the walls of the hall. Over that and our playing, we looked at one another when we heard a car pull into the parking lot. Sheridan looked at me in expectation.

I stood again and faced the door, waiting.

This time the door creaked open as if pushed by a slow, gentle wind. Vivaldi's 'Winter' came in with the rain and damp air.

Another Sheridan entered the hall playing an all-black violin. He stopped at the perimeter, took in the scene, and stared at his twin. They were identical, even wearing the same clothes. The only difference between them was the violin, one black, the other golden brown.

"Keep playing!" I told the fiddlers as they faltered.

"She's trying to trick you!" The Sheridan's pointed at one another.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Such juvenile behavior from two of the most powerful fiddlers ever to come from the valley. "Why such games? If whichever of you is Louise needs something, why not ask? You left the valley but it will always welcome you and be your home."

"We left you and the narrow ways of the Lead Fiddlers and Elders, not the valley." The Sheridan within our circle corrected me

"What do you want here?" I directed my question to the Sheridan with the sleek, black violin.

"No matter what she has told you, I know the valley is my home. I came home to help."

The winds blew even harder and the trees rattled and creaked. I heard a sigh behind me and I turned to my fiddlers. Clair played a wrong note for the first time in my memory. I blinked rapidly to clear the sudden tears. I didn't get this over with soon, she could die from the stress of playing.

Other cars arrived outside the hall. More of Louise's orchestra, no doubt.

The pressure in the air increased, making the room feel close and stifling. Sweat ran down my forehead and into my eyes. The windows rattled and the winds picked up to a fever pitch. The door blew open bringing in the rain. 'Winter' overpowered our fiddling.

Beside me, I heard another sigh, then a crash. A quick glance allowed me to see Clair sprawled on the floor next to her chair. The others' playing grew spotty.

"Keep playing!" I yelled, despite my fear for Clair. "They abandoned us years ago and have been no friends to the valley. We cannot let them win!" I kept my voice strong and stern. The Elder's music steadied and their expressions grew stern.

In the doorway behind the 'new' Sheridan, three others assembled, each young, thin, with eyes full of lust for the power the valley offered them should our playing fail. They fanned out around him and pushed their way into the hall. I noticed they stayed away from the other Sheridan but had no fear of approaching close to me or the other Elders. They pushed my wards against us. Soon they would burst under the pressure. The back blast would be deadly for the weaker Elders.

Determined to get the upper hand, I called out a change, 'Banish Misfortune'. It was a slower sound, more ponderous but still up tempo.

The Elders blinked, unused to switching songs without finishing but desperate times call for desperate measures. We played off key for a count but then found the tune.

There was an undertone I hadn't felt before after Sheridan joined us, playing his violin and adding a wordless vocal harmony. As the music gained strength, the Wild Magic pulsed with our beat and pushed the formal violinists back. There was a rippling of power and the Sheridan with the black violin grew blurry. Colors shifted and ran down to reveal Louise.

She wore a simple, black dress, elegant in design yet made of a shimmering material. It hugged her straight-backed, youthful figure but remained modest. Her hair was the same raven black of our youth and her skin a soft pink untouched by the sun or time in the farm yard or fields. The thumbnail-sized sapphire hanging from a thin gold chain around her neck, matched her eyes perfectly except her eyes were colder. She now played Vivaldi.

Louise laughed and stopped bowing. "That was the least of the magic I can bring to bear, old man. I had not guessed Sheridan would be so brave to defend this decrepit bastion. I had hoped to take the magic quickly with a slight of hand using his image. But no matter, you and your band of senior citizens have nothing left. Surrender the magic to me and I will spare all but the fiddlers."

"We are your kith and kin. Kill us and you will be damned for eternity." Adam spat at her before I could reply. Perhaps I misjudged his soft heart.

"Even Mama and Papa would damn you for this, Louise." I added.

"A price I pay willingly. I am the greatest violinist this world has known. I cannot allow my gift to fade with age. The world is more different than you could ever imagine, Kennard. The technologies of man far out-strip the magic of the valley. In a few short decades, they will have the key to living for centuries in a youthful body. With the magic of the valley, I will live long enough to take advantage of it. Then death and damnation will be irrelevant."

As Louise spoke, I remembered how much she feared aging, even as a child, she had an aversion to touching the Elders and our grandparents. What I had thought a narcissistic tendency had grown into an obsession: another fiddler fallen to Black Magic. It drove her to do anything to put off the inevitable decline we all faced.

"Enough." Louise said and brought her violin up under her chin and crossed it with her bow. The two women and man behind her, all dressed in dark, formal clothes, mimicked her with a degree of precision which could only have been practiced.

A strange song filled the hall; Louise and her quartet's movements fast, the sound staccato, almost manic. With each stroke of their bows a blow landed on each of the Elders, driving us to the ground.

Sheridan, surrounded by a sheen of blue protective magic, seemed unaffected as he moved across the room to stand between us. He broke through my ward as if it had been no more than a soap bubble. "'A Little Night Music!' I'm glad to see practicing Black Magic hasn't cost you your sense of humor." He laughed. "And still as beautiful as ever." His voice went soft.

"What are you doing here, Sheridan? You've never had the courage to face me in the outside world. What about this place makes you so brave?" Louise stared at him while she played. I searched but found no fondness for him in her gaze.

"The valley had no place for us, Louise. We knew it. It hurt at the time but leaving was the best thing to do. The Elders could have made us stay and adopt their ways but didn't. They gave us our freedom and let us keep our magic. Don't pay them back with betrayal."

Louise's music continued to reign down upon us despite our best efforts. Declan fell to the ground beside Claire. I might not break bread again with the man who had first schooled me in the ways of magic. I dared not look down and lose my concentration to see if they were still breathing.

"Get out while you can, Sheridan. I'll kill you along with the Elders if you don't leave now."

"Neither of those things are going to happen, Lou." Sheridan replied, using a nickname she hated even as a child.

"Never to call me that!" Louise spat. Her bowing became more harsh and sharp. The blows came down heavier and more quickly.

Behind Louise and her black-clad quartet I saw movement on the path beyond the door.

Another Elder, I couldn't see who, let out a yelp of pain and dropped to the floor.

"Last chance, Lou." Sheridan warned her. He brought his violin up to his chin.

"Do your worst." Louise sneered at him.

I could now see my daughters and sons- and daughter-in-law gathered beyond the light spilling out the hall door. Along with them were the other men, women, and children from the valley, come to do what they could to help even in the howling wind and soaking rain. Despite the continuing blows falling from the air, I shoved myself forward to warn them off. Louise would kill them all. Once closer, I saw they all carried musical instruments ranging from tambourines to flutes.

Sheridan backed into me without lifting his bow. "She is going to destroy the valley and take its magic. It will kill everyone here except her. Her quartet doesn't know it yet but Lou is going to sacrifice them as well. Nothing left in her is willing to share any power with them." He spoke loud enough for everyone, even those outside, to hear.

Louise's violinists paled at his words.

"Keep playing!" Louise screeched at her quartet as they slowed. They resumed with less vigor. Sheridan's word had hit home.

Maggie, my wife, now stood in the doorway behind the quartet. She stood close enough to strike Louise, but the Wild Magic forbade us all from all forms of physical violence. It was another price we all paid for its gifts and protection. At Sheridan's words, the fear left her face, replaced by angry determination. She caught my eye and gave me a small smile. "How can we help, Kennard?"

My heart swelled with pride while my throat closed with fear. I wanted to tell her to run but Sheridan spoke before me. "It's time! My lessons, remember the song! We need everyone's help!"

Maggie flashed me the same guilty look as Adam then squared her shoulders. "We are here for you, Kennard. Tell us what you need."

Sheridan moved forward, dragged his bow across the A string, and began a song. It wasn't one I knew. It was a slow, full of loneliness and despair. From the pain on his face, I knew it encompassed his feelings for Louise. He began softy then his music grew strong and louder, easily heard over Louise' quartet.

From Maggie's expression, I knew she recognized the tune.

A sharp intake of breath from Louise told me she knew the song as well. Her bow strokes became sharper and she increased the pressure on her strings. The notes harsh screams now. Sweat appeared on her brow.

My grandchildren and the other children from the valley picked up the tune on the instruments they carried.

Louise swiveled to face the other members of her quartet and they increased the speed and volume of their playing to try to drown the others out.

Sheridan used the moment to take a deep breath then to sing.

Despite the stinging blows, and the pressure like a vice on my head, anger washed over me. Singing was forbidden once our magic was invoked. My outrage gave me strength to stand tall.

Beside me, Quinn fell, his chair crashing into mine.

"Da, we are dying. She is too powerful for us." Adam pleaded with me. Three other Elders remained playing, soon Louise would win.

Maggie heard him and watched me for a reaction.

"We could lose the blessing of Wild Magic." I hesitated, torn by the idea, knowing even if we somehow won, everything would be forever changed.

"Da, please!"

Maggie held my eyes and nodded. She would stand or fall with me no matter my decision.

Sheridan ignored us and sang the next line. There was a cracking sound and one of the quartet's violins fell in pieces to the floor. A violinist, the blonde, fell forward as she let out a shriek. By the time her body hit the floor it was an old and shriveled lady.

The remaining quartet members swayed then rallied. A blow landed and Adam staggered and dropped to his knees.

"Sing! I'll be damned if we die without a fight." I told them all.

Maggie nodded and brought her arms up as a signal.

The remaining Elders and I listened to pick up the harmony to the tune Sheridan played.

Adam, despite his injury, and Maggie sang, joining everyone outside in the last verse. "Stay home and love me, my Liverpool Lou"

The two quartet members fell to the ground, aging before they touched the floor. Louise's hair lost its rich color and faded to a dull gray. The skin above her dress sagged. Her arms withered as her violin cracked.

She screamed and her entire form turned a chalky color and hardened. In seconds, she became stone.

The music trailed off to stunned silence. The quartet was gone leaving behind a statue of an old and haggard woman playing a broken violin with an angry expression. The bodies around her decayed and blew into dust piles at her feet.

Sheridan stood by Louise's stone form with tears on his cheeks.

"What now?" I asked him as the others rushed in to care for the fallen Elders. Maggie came up beside me and wrapped her arm around me. We all knew things had changed and we faced our new Lead Elder.

"We start new lessons and invite everyone to join us." Sheridan answered.

"What about Liverpool Lou?" Maggie asked with no sympathy in her voice.

"Maybe someday something will soften her stone heart and she'll stay home and love me." But there was no hope in his voice.

Maggie and I nodded, and wordlessly turned away to see what we could do to help the others.

THE END

Bio: T.S. Kay is the author of several short stories and novels in the Gifted World, including the soon-to-published, "Familiar Scents," from DAOwen Publications. Mr. Kay worked in a library for seven years where he met the love of his life of more than three decades. He has had more than twenty different jobs but has spent the majority of his time as a consultant to business, a business owner, and a researcher.

E-mail: T.S. Kay

Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum

Return to Aphelion's Index page.