Fireworks

Fireworks

Easter 128“Mind if I join you? This looks like a good place to hide from all the fireworks.”

I looked up from my computer screen to see my husband, Miles, standing at the door to my office. He was wearing an uncharacteristic scowl. I motioned for him to come in.

“Fireworks? Honey, what are you talking about? It’s not even lunchtime yet. The fireworks won’t start until after dark tonight.”office-and-bookshelf-for-blog-002

Miles cautiously made his way through my cluttered office, maneuvering around obstacles and inching his way across the room as if he were walking through a minefield. He removed a few books and a pile of papers from the chair next to mine and sat down, still scowling. “Those fireworks will be tame compared to the ones that have been going on upstairs this morning.”

“Oh, no! Is one of my characters conjuring fireworks in the house? Who is it? My Arrogant One? My Gypsy? Sorceress? Dragon?” I jumped up, ready to go put a stop to such shenanigans.

“That type of fireworks wouldn’t be so bad!” Miles rubbed the back of his neck.

I sank back into my chair and eyed him warily. “Oh?” I wasn’t at all sure I really wanted to know.

Miles nodded ruefully. “So far this morning, I’ve broken up two fistfights between your Gypsy and your Young Hero, and a screaming match between Sorceress and Cleric.”

“Oh-oh.”dwarf

Miles held up his hand to indicate he was not finished. “Then your Old Dwarf almost lopped off my head with that great big axe he carries around.”

My eyes widened. “He did what? Why?”

“About an hour ago, I walked into the kitchen and found him making one of his little snacks – one that would feed the average family of four for a week. I made the near-fatal error of suggesting he wait until lunch.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, that would do it.”

blue-dragon-2Miles’ hand went up again. “Then I went back to the living room and found Dragon scratching her back on the carpet again. When I asked her to stop, she threatened to scorch my shoes with me still in them!”

I giggled. “She hasn’t made that threat in ages!”

“I don’t think it’s funny.” Miles scowled, and I tried to hide my grin. “Last but not least, your Foreman was arguing with your Arrogant One and your Bounty Hunter, and when they saw me standing there, they tried to gang up on me. Dragon put an end to that – she saved me after she herself had just threatened me!”

I sighed. “It’s a confusing time right now, honey. All my characters seem to be at each other’s throats. Dragon theorized it could be the heat or just plain boredom, but she also suggested there could be something more sinister behind it.”

Miles blanched. “You don’t think it could be Morcant again, do you?”

morcant

I shook my head. “No. I am confident that Morcant will never bother us again. When the three crones from his world retrieved his familiar from our world, they collapsed the magical conduit. Morcant will never again be able to send his familiar here.”

Miles sighed and nodded. “That’s good. But what about your Arrogant One?” Miles furrowed his brow. “Is there any way he could create a conduit between the two worlds?”

I snorted and shook my head again. “I don’t think his magic is anywhere near that powerful.”

“He could be the one causing the friction between all your characters, though.” Miles quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“Yes, I suppose he could be behind it. If so, Dragon will discover it and put an end to it.”

“Do you or Dragon have any other theories about what could be causing this? I mean, one sort of expects your Arrogant One to rub people the wrong way, and I guess Dragon and your Old Dwarf can both be prickly at times. But for the lads to be brawling or Cleric and Sorceress to be at each other’s throats . . .” He shrugged. “They’ve always been the best of friends. There must be something more than heat or boredom fuelling the furor.”

blue-dragon-facing-left“Do you really think I’m prickly?”

Miles and I both jumped, and my husband turned beet red as Dragon stuck her head in the door, her broad grin displaying rows of dagger-sharp teeth.

“Dragon! Er . . . ah . . . I didn’t hear you come downstairs!” Miles stammered and turned from beet red to deathly white as Dragon continued to stare at him and grin.

Porcupine for blog“You didn’t?” Dragon feigned surprise. “I suppose I can be very stealthy when it serves my purpose.” The huge beast winked at Miles, then began to shrink. She entered the room and gracefully picked her way through my office, wrinkling her nose in disdain at the untidy conditions. As she approached Miles, she began to transform. By the time she reached his chair, she had shape-shifted into a very hefty porcupine. “Prickly, too.” She giggled.

Miles shrank back in his chair and pulled his feet up. He looked wide-eyed at the porcupine, and started to sweat.

“All right, Dragon! That’s enough! No skewering Miles with your quills. And no scorching his shoes, either – with or without his feet still in them!” I glowered at her.

Elf cleric“You don’t let me have any fun.” The ersatz porcupine shapeshifted into her familiar guise of an elf maiden. She conjured a chair and sat, facing Miles and me. She immediately turned serious.

“Master Miles, you were asking if your wife and I had any theories to explain the change in everyone’s demeanor. I agree with Mistress Writer that it can not be Morcant. However, I have discovered nothing else that can account for the recent conflicts. I have been too busy trying to keep my companions from inflicting serious bodily harm on each other, and have not really been able to devote much time to investigation.” She lowered her eyes and her cheeks turned bright red. “I have also been . . . busy . . . keeping my own violent tendencies under control.”

I reached out and took her hand. “It must be something very sinister indeed to bring out the beastly side of your nature.”

She nodded. When she spoke, I could barely hear her. “I have been thinking of shapeshifting into something that can do no harm to anyone. I can not risk incinerating any of you.” When she raised her head, I saw genuine fear in her eyes.

“Will that really do any good? To shapeshift into something harmless?” Miles quirked an eyebrow at Dragon.

“Miles is right. It wouldn’t do much good. Even if you took the shape of something innocuous, you are a dragon. In a fit of anger, you could immediately change back to your true state.”

“I could ask Sorceress and Cleric to cast a spell on me once I have changed, preventing me from changing back unless they released their spell.”

“No!” I jumped from my chair. “With everyone at odds with each other, you would not be safe. Under the influence of whatever is causing this, the two magic users could refuse to release the spell. Or, when Sorceress and Cleric were not around, you might encounter one of the others who might harm you if you were unable to defend yourself. No, there must be another way!”

Dragon nodded. “I will study on it further and see if there is an alternative. If there is not, I may have to go away until I would no longer be a threat to any of you.”

Before I could reply, Dragon jumped up and rushed from the room, shapeshifting back to her beastly form as she left.

I collapsed back into my chair. Miles and I sat looking at each other, stunned.

“Do you think it will come to that? Do you think Dragon will go away?” Miles seemed genuinely upset at the thought.

I shook my head and shrugged. “I hope not. I realize she feels we may be in some danger with her here, but I trust that she can exert enough control over herself that it would not come to that. And how will we find the cause of all this friction among the characters if she is not here to help?”

dwarfBefore we could discuss the matter further, my Old Dwarf came hotfooting it into the room. “Eh, be we havin’ a midday meal taday or no? I be starved!”

Miles wisely kept quiet and did not comment on the old reprobate’s appetite. We followed him back upstairs to the kitchen, where all my characters had assembled around the table.

Over a tense lunch, I guided the conversation to the festivities planned for that evening. Although July four was still several days away, our town had planned its celebration for the weekend.

I explained to my characters the early history of our country, and exactly what it was we celebrated each Fourth of July. My monologue was met with stony silence and narrow-eyed glares from my characters.

Finally, I got to something that sparked some interest. “So tonight, we will have a barbecue in the back yard.”

“A bar-bee-cue?” My Old Dwarf’s eyes lit up. “Food?”

“Yes, food.” At that, even the others started to look interested. “After that, we’ll go to the park to enjoy our town’s fireworks display.”

“Fireworks?” My Gypsy looked intrigued.

“Fireworks.” I nodded, but met with blank looks from most of my characters.

“Pyrotechnics.”

More blank looks.

“Huge, colorful showers of bright sparks in the sky, usually accompanied by loud booms.”

My Arrogant One’s eyes lit up at that, but my Old Dwarf frowned at Miles and me. “Jest ye two be goin’?” He started fingering his axe.

I hesitated. “You can all go, if you can agree to a few conditions.”

All nine of my characters glared at me. “What conditions?” My Foreman’s voice was almost a feral growl.

“First, all weapons, wands, staffs, and spell components will be left at home. Second, you will all dress in modern garb. Third, you will behave in a civilized manner. Last, you will tell no one who you really are. If anyone asks, you are our out-of-town relatives and friends, visiting for the holiday weekend.”

After considerable debate and grumbling, everyone agreed – even my Arrogant One.

The barbecue was delicious. I was glad I had made enough to feed the entire neighborhood, even though none of my neighbors were there. My Old Dwarf ate more than their share.

After eating, we ambled down to the park for the fireworks display. The closer we got to the park, the more relaxed my characters seemed to be. We found a grassy knoll no one had yet claimed and we set up our lawn chairs and blankets. As darkness fell, I was happy to see all my characters talking and laughing.

As always, the fireworks display was awesome. Every one of my characters sat, wide-eyed, oohing and aahing at the pyrotechnics.

As we walked back home, I was pleased at my characters’ behavior and lack of any incidents. As soon as we walked in the door, that all changed. Within minutes, the screaming and fighting had resumed. I beckoned to Miles. “Come on. I know a good place to hide from all the fireworks.”office-and-bookshelf-for-blog-002

Will we discover what is causing their hostilities? Will all my characters survive their unexplained acrimony? Will Dragon go away? Be sure to come back next week to find out. I’ll leave the porch light on for you.

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A New Year, Another Problem

A New Year, Another Problem

coin-talismanI had not slept well for several nights, not since Christmas Eve, when Miles had made the discovery of a small amulet on the stairs. When he had handed it to me, I could feel all the color drain from my face. It belonged to one of my characters, but not one who inhabited this world with us. I could not imagine how or why it had found its way into this world.

innkeeperI was sitting at my computer desk, turning the amulet over and over in my hand, and in my mind. The last time I had seen this talisman – before its appearance here on Christmas Eve – it had been in the beefy hands of an Innkeeper in another world, a world I had written about in several books. Since its discovery here, I had avoided showing it to any of my characters, characters who had fallen out of my manuscripts about that world, and who now resided here. I was particularly worried about the reaction the trinket would invoke from my Young Hero, my Gypsy, my Foreman and Cleric. They were all close friends of the Innkeeper, and the appearance of his talisman here in this world would only further fuel their concerns about his welfare.

Easter 128I jumped at a sound behind me. “Oh, Miles! It’s just you!”

“Well, I love you, too, honey!” He made a funny face at me and laughed.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it’s just you, like you’re not important. I meant wow, am I glad it isn’t one of my characters!

“I understand.” He looked down at the talisman in my hand. “Still trying to figure out how that got here?”

I nodded. “I really wouldn’t think much of it if you hadn’t recently taken to talking and acting just like the Innkeeper.”

“Have you come up with any theories?”

I shook my head and raked my hand through my hair.

“Well, why don’t you come upstairs and have some lunch? We’re having the last of the Christmas leftovers, and I think you might want to get to them before your Old Dwarf does. That guy can eat more than any ten people I know!”

I pocketed the talisman and we headed upstairs.

Elf facing rightConversation during lunch took my mind off the talisman. “Master Miles informs us that in a few days, you will be celebrating a new year,” Cleric said as she passed me the bread.

“Yes. Saturday is New Year’s Eve. At midnight, we celebrate the passing of the old year and the arrival of the new.”

“And how do you celebrate?”

I chuckled. “Well, being the old fossils we are, Miles and I will probably go to bed at our normal time and forego the festivities. However, many people attend parties with their friends. Some go to restaurants or clubs or other venues that hold public parties, with music, dancing and food, including champagne with which to toast the New Year. Outdoor events with fireworks or other activities are very common. One of the most famous New Year’s Eve celebrations in our country is televised from New York City. In an event that is attended by well over a million people, and seen by over a billion people worldwide, a huge, specially lighted ball is lowered on a flagpole atop a building at One Times Square at midnight.”

Sorceress cocked her head. “I would enjoy watching that on your magic box.”

Several of the other characters nodded in agreement.

I smiled. “Well, if Miles and I can manage to stay awake, we can all watch it together.”

“I remember the celebrations we had when I was a child, welcoming our new year.” My Gypsy leaned back in his chair, a faraway look in his eye. “First, we had a big feast. Then, the village Wise Woman would tell fortunes. That was followed by music and dancing, which continued right up to the last moment of the old year, when we would creep down to the village stable. new-years-foalThere, all the broodmares most likely to deliver their foals that day were stalled. We would wait, in absolute silence, to see which mare would be the first to give birth. As a people who made our living from breeding and selling horses, we believed whoever owned the first foal of the new year would be blessed with health, happiness and prosperity that entire year. If a mare from each family delivered her foal that day, the entire village would be blessed. Sometimes, the earliest foal would come into the world within the first moments of the new year, but to see if one foal would be born to each family in the village would often take all day, and well into the night.”

My Young Hero frowned. “What happened if no foal was born that day?”

My Gypsy stared at his hands, and his voice faltered. “Tragedy ensues. That only happened once in my memory, the year I turned 12 and thought I was a man. That was the year I caused a terrible thing to happen, and the entire village paid the price for my folly. That was the year two score of the children of our village disappeared.”

Everyone looked aghast, and murmured sympathetically. My Young Hero placed a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “I am sorry. I had forgotten about that incident. You told me about that once. Your brother was among those children.”

My Gypsy nodded. “I had been searching for him when I came to your father’s horse farm seeking employment.”

My Old Dwarf patted the lad’s shoulder. “Ye ever find yer brudder, laddie?”

My Gypsy shook his head.

My Bounty Hunter gave him a sidelong glance. “It’s such a shame you are stuck here with the rest of us. You have no idea if you will ever find him, perhaps have already found him in our own world.”

I gave him a sharp look. “Let’s change the conversation, shall we?”

“Of course.” My Bounty Hunter sounded apologetic, but I noticed the slight twitch of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

strange-dreamsThat night was another restless one for me. I drifted in and out of a disturbing dream, in which my Bounty Hunter sat behind the bar, watching as the corpulent Innkeeper was yelling at a bunch of boy-os to keep the Great Room clean. A gang of youthful thugs kept riding horses in and out the front door of his establishment. They intentionally tracked snow and mud and blood all over the freshly scrubbed wooden floors, and chanted “No foals this day, no foals this day! A curse on thee, no foals this day!” The Innkeeper warned them several times that he would not tolerate such behavior but the gang just jeered at him. They repeatedly demanded to know where the Gypsy’s brother was, but the Innkeeper insisted he had no knowledge of the boy-o’s whereabouts. Finally the Innkeeper pulled them all off their horses and reached into his pocket. He produced a small silver talisman, but before he could use it, the hoodlums fell on him, punching and kicking. The big man collapsed under their blows.

I snapped out of the dream, jolted awake. My heart was racing; I was drenched in sweat and panting for breath. Once my heart and respiration rates had returned to near-normal, I looked about. Sunlight was streaming through the window. I smiled. Miles must have realized I had had another restless night, and he had let me sleep in. I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled, bleary-eyed, through my morning routine. I was still yawning and rubbing my eyes when I got to the kitchen, anticipating breakfast.

coin-talismanMy eyes shot open and all thoughts of food evaporated. Miles was standing there, holding the silver amulet. He was rubbing it and mumbling something I couldn’t quite hear. I launched myself at him and slapped the talisman from his hand. I grabbed it from the floor and swiftly pocketed it.

Miles blinked. He shook his head as if trying to clear his mind. “What . . . what happened?”

“I’m not sure. You had the amulet, and you were rubbing it and mumbling something.”

He gaped at me. “I didn’t have the amulet. You hid it last night.”

“Well, I guess you must have seen where I hid it, because you certainly did have it!”

Miles slowly sank into a chair. “I don’t remember seeing where you put the amulet. I don’t remember taking it. I don’t remember rubbing it, or mumbling anything.” He sat there, shaking his head, while I poured him a cup of coffee. “I mean, how would I even know how to use such a thing?”

“I wish I knew.”

He reached for my hand. “Honey, I know your Gypsy and your Young Hero were upset by my recent behavior, when I acted and sounded like their friend, the Innkeeper. And I know you didn’t want to discuss this talisman with any of your characters, for fear of upsetting them further.” He paused and drew a shuddering breath. His voice was raw when he continued. “But, Marge, we must discover how it got here. We must know the reason it is here. And we must figure out the connection between me and the Innkeeper.”

I scowled and nodded. “I agree. This is getting more than a little alarming.” I raked my hand through my hair and sighed loudly. “I’ll talk to Dragon later today.”

Two days later, I still had not broached the subject to Dragon. It had been cold and windy all week, with frequent snow squalls. Dragon had taken to sulking about the weather. She stayed curled up in front of her conjured fireplace, growling at anyone who ventured too near. She was much too cranky to engage in civil conversation. Meanwhile, I was still being plagued by strange dreams at night, dreams of the Innkeeper, and I was still trying to keep the talisman hidden from Miles.

 

News Year’s Eve, we enjoyed a huge buffet in the kitchen, then arranged ourselves around the television in the living room. I explained to my characters that the New Year’s celebration we would watch from New York was in a different time zone, so the ball would drop at 11 pm Minnesota time.

“Different time zone?” My Foreman wrinkled his brow.

“Hard to explain. Different parts of our world have different time zones. New York is an hour ahead of Minnesota.”

My characters all looked confused, except Dragon, who nodded sagely. “The sun rises and sets there earlier than here.” Dragon looked smug that she understood what the others didn’t.

Television setWe settled in to watch the show. The entertainment was fair, the commercials incessant. Predictably, Miles and I were sound asleep by the time the countdown to the ball drop commenced. Cleric and Sorceress nudged us awake in time to see it drop, accompanied by fireworks, confetti, and balloons. On TV, there were shouts of Happy New Year from the nearly two million people in attendance, followed by a rousing rendition of New York, New York. When the show switched to celebrations on the West Coast, we decided to forgo any further festivities.

Soon after, my characters all went to bed and Miles and I cleaned up the kitchen. Then Miles went down to make sure the porch light was on, and I headed for bed. I almost tripped over a horseshoe in the hallway.new-years-horseshoe

I was still standing there, staring at it, when Miles headed toward the bedroom. I picked up the object and held it out toward him. “What is this doing here?”

Miles took the horseshoe from me and examined it. He pushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes and smiled. “I told the boy-os not to fret. The Blacksmith will lend a hand. Old Smyth could always be relied on!”

I almost fainted dead away.

 

Happy New Year from Mistress Writer (Marge Cutter), all my characters, and Master Miles! May 2017 bring you all – old friends and new readers alike – good health, good fortune, grand adventures, and wonderful reading; and may it leave you next year with the fondest of memories! I invite you to come back often and enjoy my characters’ exploits. We’ll be sure to leave the porch light on for you!

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Our Happy Holiday as the Mystery Continues

Our Happy Holiday as the Mystery Continues

snowman2After a week, the snow wasn’t looking so dazzling white, or as attractive to my characters. The inaugural snowball fight of the winter was followed by several more the next day, and the next; and then almost everyone joined in to make a huge snowman. But after that, the novelty seemed to wear off and fewer and fewer of my characters ventured out into the frozen yard. By Christmas Eve morning, everyone was content to stay inside.

One who had from day one staunchly declined all invitations to romp in the snow was Dragon. She stared through the French doors at the frozen white expanse and growled softly. “Why would I want to go out in the snow? It is cold, it is wet, it is uncomfortable. And it does not even taste good!”

My Young Hero laughed. “I bet your friend, Ollie, loves the snow.”

blue-dragon-2Dragon fixed my Young Hero with an intense stare. “My friend, Ollie, has a luxurious fur coat. Does this look like a fur coat?” She gestured to the shimmering cerulean blue scales covering her body. “I think not.”

My Gypsy nudged my Young Hero, mirth twinkling in his black eyes. “You could always shapeshift into something warm and furry, Dragon.”

The large creature cocked her head. There was a dreamy look in her eyes, and tiny smoke rings drifted lazily from her nostrils. “Perhaps . . . if someone warm and furry were here to romp with. But, lacking anyone with a thick fur coat to help me stay warm, I will retain my most majestic appearance and lie here by the fire and stay toasty.”

fireplace2“Fire? What fire?” My head jerked up and the book I had been reading slipped off my lap and thudded onto the floor. My jaw almost hit the floor with it, as I saw a crackling fire in a rustic stone fireplace along the wall where the television used to be. “But we don’t have a fireplace!”

Dragon stretched her reptilian lips into a reasonable facsimile of a coy smile. “Oh?”

As she spoke, the fireplace by which she was sprawled slowly disappeared.

I frowned at her as I retrieved my book. “Cute. I would appreciate it if you characters wouldn’t do things like that! You know the problems illusions have caused, or have you already forgotten the fright I suffered when my Arrogant One conjured the illusion of the evil wizard Morcant right outside my office window? I could really live without those types of frights!”

“So, what do you suggest we do for entertainment, if we can not torment you?” Dragon grinned a toothy smile.

“Well, I thought you and Cleric and Sorceress would be trying to figure out why Miles suddenly started acting and talking like your friend, the Innkeeper.”

“Too little information to go on.” Dragon shrank to the size of a Cocker Spaniel and started writhing on the floor, scratching her back on the carpet, her hard scales tearing tufts of fiber.

“Stop that.” I glared at her. “What do you mean, too little information?”

She ignored me and continued to enjoy a nice scratch. “I mean exactly what I said. We do not have enough information to determine the reason Master Miles acted and spoke as he did.”

“I think it is obvious.” My Young Hero’s jaw tightened and his hands curled into fists at his side. “Something has happened to the Innkeeper. He needs our help.”

The corners of my mouth turned down. “I told you if that were the case, you would help him. Not the you that exists here in this world, but the you who exists in that world.”

My Young Hero’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “I know, but that does not make the me in this world worry any less about my friend.”

“Nor this me, either.” My Gypsy placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But if Mistress Writer says the we that exist there will help him, then we must accept that.”

“Good.” I looked at my watch. “Well, it is time for me to get to work in the kitchen. Perhaps you two strapping lads can go downstairs and give Miles a hand with the Christmas tree.”

“Christmas tree?”

“Yup. It’s that time of year again. I’m going to finish baking the Christmas cookies, and Miles is setting up the tree and the last of the decorations.”

The two lads looked at each other, dubious expressions on their faces, but then they both shrugged. “Sure, we’ll give Master Miles a hand.” They tromped off down the stairs just as Cleric entered the room.Elf

“Did I hear you say you are going to bake some more cookies?” Her blue eyes were alight with interest.

“Yup. Would you like to help?”

“Oh, yes! I love baking!”

Elf clericDragon quickly shapeshifted, taking on the appearance of an elf maiden, almost a twin to Cleric. “I like baking, too.” She looked at me hopefully.

I smiled. “Good! Let’s get working, then.”

As I set the oven to preheat, Cleric got the cookie sheets out. “What type of cookies will we bake?”

“Today, we are going to bake Norwegian Wreaths, what my mother used to call Norwegian Christmas cakes.”Norwegian Christmas Wreath cookies

“These are special for Christmas?” Dragon looked at the cookbook “Classic Christmas Recipes” propped up on the kitchen counter.

“I believe they are. At least, Christmas is the only time of year I remember my mother making them.”

Dragon frowned. “Mistress? You have been making Christmas cookies all week; Master Miles has been putting up Christmas decorations and now a Christmas tree; you have had Christmas music playing on your magic box, and you have been shopping for Christmas presents for your family members.”

I nodded and reached for a measuring cup. “Yes, Christmas takes a lot of preparation.”

“So, just what is this Christmas that you make such a fuss about?”

I paused, my brow furrowed. “That’s really a hard question to answer. You see, in my religion, Christmas is a holy day. It is the celebration of an event that took place more than 2,000 years ago. It is the celebration of the birth, in human form, of Jesus Christ, the Son of our God. But other religions have different beliefs. Many people who celebrate Christmas today celebrate it as a secular holiday, not a religious holy day. For them, it is merely a day for giving and receiving gifts, and sharing good will and good times with family and loved ones. Then, still others do not celebrate it in any form.”

Cleric tilted her head and chewed her lower lip. “Are there many different religions in your world, Mistress?”religions

“Oh, yes, just as there are in your world.”

“How do followers of different religions get along with each other, with persons not of their own faith?”

I put down my mixing spoon and bowl, and wiped my hands on my apron. I frowned and chewed on my lip for a long while before answering. “Well, I wish I could tell you we all get along fantastically, and we all respect each other’s beliefs. Unfortunately, that is not so. Some people feel their beliefs should be the ones held by all people. They get angry with people who believe differently. Some even hate people of other faiths, and many wars have been waged and much violence has been committed in the name of religion.”

Dragon gaped at me. “Surely all people do not feel this way?”

“No, not all. Perhaps not even most. Many people are very accepting of all people, regardless of their faith. They live in harmony with everyone, and do not disrespect other people’s religious beliefs.”

Cleric and Dragon fell silent for a while, and we continued mixing the cookie dough and forming the wreaths on the cookie trays. I put the first two trays in the oven and set the timer. Cleric and Dragon began to wash out the measuring cups and clear the counter so we could cool the trays as they came out of the oven.

After a few minutes, Cleric put down the dishcloth and looked at me. “Mistress?”

“Yes?”

“I am glad you respect people who do not believe as you do.”

I smiled warmly at her.

christmas-treeLater that evening, my characters joined Miles and me around the Christmas tree. We sang carols and ate cookies and drank eggnog. Then we went over to the Nativity scene that Miles had set up at the other end of the room. From the Bible, I read aloud Luke’s account of the Christmas birth.

angels-and-shepherdsNow it happened that, while they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to a son, her first-born. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the living-space. In the countryside close by there were shepherds out in the fields keeping guard over their sheep during the watches of the night. An angel of the Lord stood over them and the glory of the Lord shone round them. They were terrified, but the angel said, ‘Do not be afraid. Look, I bring you news of great joy, a joy to be shared by all people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. And here is a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.’ And all at once with the angel there was a great throng of the hosts of heaven, praising God with the words:Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace for those he favours.

My characters sat, mesmerized as I read. They remained silent for a long few minutes following the reading.

Cleric broke the silence. “That was a beautiful story!” The others nodded in agreement.

I put the book away, and we had some more eggnog and cookies. Then we popped some CDs in the player and listened to “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem,” “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” “Feliz Navidad,” “White Christmas,” “Jingle Bell Rock,” “Little Drummer Boy” and “Frosty the Snowman.” We finished with one of my personal favorites, the Dar Williams classic “The Christians and the Pagans.”

Everyone clapped and Cleric spoke for them all when she said, “What great songs!”

DwarfBut then my Old Dwarf, on his third pint of eggnog, started to sing. My Foreman winced and covered his ears. “I think that’s our cue that it’s high time the festivities came to an end for the evening.”

He motioned to the lads, who helped the off-key singer to his feet. Everyone said their goodnights and headed off to bed, my Old Dwarf still bellowing and hiccupping.

I started gathering the empty plates and glasses while Miles turned off the CD player and the lights on the Christmas tree. As we started to ascend the stairs, Miles stopped and leaned over. He picked up a small object from the bottom step.

“Honey, did you drop this, or does it belong to one of your characters?”coin-talisman

He held out what looked like a coin, a little larger than a dime. I took it from him and examined it carefully. It was a small silver talisman, round and flat, with fine runes etched on either side. I could feel the color drain from my face.

“What’s wrong?”

“This talisman belongs to my characters’ friend, the Innkeeper.”innkeeper

Miles furrowed his brow. “Maybe he gave it to one of your characters before they came here?” He sounded hopeful.

I shook my head.

“Well, how did it get here?”

“How did my characters get here? It must have fallen out of one of my manuscripts, just as they did. The question is, why now? Why did this appear here now, just as you have been speaking and acting like the Innkeeper? It can’t be a coincidence.”

Miles frowned. “Well, whatever the reason for it, we will figure it out tomorrow. Let’s go upstairs and get some sleep, so we can attend Christmas Mass in the morning.”

mistletoe2I nodded dumbly and followed him up the steps. He stopped on the landing, reached over and switched on the porch light. Then he pointed at the mistletoe overhead and gently pulled me close for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, honey!”

I barely had time to respond “Merry Christmas!” before our lips melded in a tender holiday kiss.

 

happy-holidays-to-my-readers

Happy holidays to all our readers. No matter your beliefs, may peace and love be in your hearts now, and throughout the New Year!

Be sure to stop back from time to time to see what is happening with my characters. The porch light will always be on for you.

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