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you didn't have any wounds? If Annwn was only a place of myth and dreams, then how did you get that little scar on your forehead that is present in this 'real' world. Did it really happen or didn't it, and how can you tell? Your mom's house in Riverside, California doesn't seem so real when you are here in Rochester, New York, but then, we know that Rochester is not the sum total of all reality."

"So, then if I did something bad or good," he theorized, "in a dream, the real fact of the matter is that I had done the thing and not where I done it."

"Did you do something in a dream," she asked, "that you might be ashamed of?"

"I pretended I was a demon," he replied, "and tricked a man who I caught robbing another man to make him stop. Then I pretended that I was a dream to a girl from school who thought she was dreaming when she saw me flying by her house. I lied and cheated and I feel good about that and bad about it at the same time."

"Without resorting to violence, you stopped a crime," she replied, drying her hands on a dish towel. "You did so by playing on the criminal's deepest fears. Truth told, if the man were to continue with such a life, the end might be far worse than you portrayed in a good many ways. And the impact of a flying boy on an impressionable young lady, could wound and scar her for life if she didn't have the emotional safety net of a silly romantic dream to fall back on. I'd have to call those good deeds. Add to that mix the fact that the idea of lying or deceiving people no matter how bad or good they might be makes you think twice about doing it. I think my boy's growing up to be a fine young man. Just don't ever let the lies or deceit become an easy thing or Grandma will apply this wooden spoon to the seat of your understanding. Om biggun tu?"

"Tiggum," he replied. "Ten four. We're readin' you five by five here, good buddy," he said, mimicking his CB buddies. His grandmother chuckled and shook her head at him.
War In The Heavens




The clarion call of the High Council rang in his near immortal soul. Elder Shan arose from his pallet to release the Sidhe Master from the devices that helped keep him in an out-of-body state. He disliked the self mutilating torture devices, but for a full blooded Sidhe a complete regeneration of damaged tissue would occur within a couple days or so depending upon the severity. These were designed to do more aggravating of exposed nerve endings than tissue damage, allowing the shock to drive the Master out of his body for the duration of the self torture. Shan's catalepsy allowed him to leave his body without all the pain, however it was in a dreamy, detached state of mind. Shabriri could function with the same intensity as his waking hours, so he would direct the operations while Shan's dreaming consciousness was better utilized in an ancillary role to the Master.

"Time to awaken, brother," he said softly, deftly applying unguent to Shabriri's incisions. "We are required to attend the High Council back in Gwynydd."

"I may have some information they will need to hear," the Master said, rising from his pallet. "This cream of yours has excellent properties. I've heard that your decoctions were unparalleled. I am comforted to find this is not an unqualified statement."

"I'll wager you are at that," he said, smiling. "I wouldn't relish waking with all those open cuts myself. Not without a good balm to ease the healing process. So, you think our little wizardling might have something to offer the High Council?"

"He has a natural ability that I would expect from a full blooded Sidhe," the Master said. "Also a toughness that exceeds any Sidhe I can think of. Neither of which will help if he's killed outright upon entering. But if the witch and the aboriginal are drawn in with him, I would suppose he has as much a satisfactory chance of succeeding as surviving."

"You would recommend sending a party of humans into Logres?" he asked.

"For several good reasons, my brother," Shabriri replied. "First, Logres is a predominantly human plane. Secondly, the witch, the boy and his cousin have already spent several days in Annwn, a plane hostile to humans and Sidhe and have come back relatively unharmed. Thirdly, as with Annwn, this is a case where representatives of that realm are conducting raiding forays into neighboring planes in spite of any decrees to the contrary. Fourthly, no outcry occurred against us or even themselves for their intervention. We have the perfect circumstance for plausible deniability. Fifth, of all of us, they may be the best suited individuals for successfully stopping the Pentacle."

Donning their cowled, crimson cloaks they left the sealed crypt of the earthly plane through the mirrored portal to Gwynydd. The sunlight was near blinding after their weeks in Abred and they kept their hoods up as they entered the coach waiting to take them to the High Council. Spiraling towers of alabaster and ivory carved as fine and intricate as lace rose before them as the coach quickly made its way to the meeting. Shan never tired of seeing them, though Shabriri seemed preoccupied by his thoughts for the duration of the short ride. It was a lovely day.

No time was wasted, within moments of arriving they were ushered to their respective seats at the Council Round Table that circled the Pool of the Moon that lay mirror still in the center of the chamber. A vision of wizards attacking a Fae temple and stealing the artifacts held in reverence there was unfolding in the pool's reflections.

"Another foray by the Pentacle?" Shabriri asked as he took his seat.

"It appears so," Master Sine replied without looking up from the pool. "It would also appear that they are only after artifacts that can be used for conquest. The Temple of the Green Cathedral was nearer their entry point than this one, and possessed far greater artifacts of healing. Even so, they chose to by pass it and strike at this one to obtain the Rift Wand."

"Perhaps they feel protected from any chance of harm?" Elder Shan offered.

"If they do, it is an unreasonable assumption," Master Sine said pointing to another vision in the Pool. "Two of their raiding party were torn to shreds by the faeries that guard this temple. The main body of them escaped through the rift with the artifact."

"But why risk life and limbs to steal the Rift Wand if they already are able to traverse rifts?" Elder Shan puzzled.

"It would seem they are limited by knowledge and, or circumstances to which planes they have access to," Master Sine surmised aloud. "We've been suffering their raids for a while now, and have been waiting for them the past two times. Even so, we cannot always tell when or where they will attack. Perhaps there are only a couple small rifts they have access to. With the Rift Wand, they will have the means to access far more than those and the very nature of rifts put them in proximity to power locations. The Pentacle of Logres has intentions of conquest and possession of resources. Who is their Grand Wizard at this point in time?"

"Mordred VII is currently in control there," Elder Shannon answered. "We lost a party of our rangers getting even that much information. Along with them, the artifacts they went in armed with has given the Pentacle more information where with to make these raids in our plane. The last party we lost were also former celebrants at the temple that was just attacked. None of this bodes well for us."

"We must find a way to stop them," Elder Sian insisted.

"Does anyone have any suggestions as to how this might be done?" Master Sine asked, cocking a silvery brow at the adamant Elder.

"I might have the beginnings of an idea," Master Shabriri volunteered. "He is only a boy, but he has benefits that none of us here can boast of. He is half human. His father was an Emerald, Shamblynn who went mad in Abred. The child appears human enough but seems to have inherited the best of both natures. He has survived an incursion into Annwn with his Matriarch and his human cousin as his support and they all have returned relatively unharmed."

"You would send them into this hornets nest?" Elder Sian asked incredulously.

"Logres is a human plane," Shabriri said. "It is ruled by a human wizard caste. The humans I would send in are of a witch clan and very skilled of themselves and have some experience in other planes. The boy is one of us as much as he is one of them. I would argue that they are the best suited for this and that they also have a stake in this as well. The Pentacle will not stop their power grab until they are supreme in all the planes. I doubt they will stop until they reach Ceugant. I, for one, wouldn't want to wait that long."

"But how can we expect them to accomplish this on their own?" Master Sine asked.

"We'll have to work on that part," Shabriri said raising a finger and smiling. "Won't we?"

The High Council continued many days in argument

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