Sanctuary Planet Book 1 - Wayne O'Conner

PXE749559-
SANCTUARY
PLANET:
BOOK
ONE
Wayne T. O’Conner
Copyright © 2020 Wayne O’Conner
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798657027075
DEDICATION
Planet PXE749559: BOOK ONE
is dedicated to my cousin Rodney Brandstatter.
July 25, 1950 - September 1, 2017
Rodney Allen Brandstatter, 67, passed away in Smithfield, UT, on Sept. 1,

2017, while hiking in the Dry Canyon area of Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National
Forest, Utah.
My thanks also to Cache County Sheriff's Search and Rescue who assisted in
the search for Rodney. This book is also dedicated to numerous other Search
and Rescue professionals, who have done the same for other “Missing 4-1-1”
victims, as chronicled by
Detective and Researcher David Paulides.
I am also mindful of the many families across the United States who have
experienced “Missing 4-1-1” tragedies. In some cases the loved ones are found,
and there is at least a sense of closure, but in many cases the bodies of the
victims are never found, and the trail vanishes even for the keen perceptions of
professional search and rescue canines and elite Native American trackers.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments i
1 Will of the Divine Council 1

2 Scholar Ben’s Library Tower 27
3 Sleestaka Portal 57
4 Padre’s Chapel Compound 73
5 Tyrel and Stella 93
6 Battle at Wolfshead Gate 109
7 Settling In 127
8 Three Home Warmings and a Funeral 147
9 Night Fall at Rainbow Willow Lake 167
10 Seser Tech 171
Dear readers,
Please take note that I frequently use
conspiracy theories and fortean resources in
this book.
While such information is true in the world of

my story, such material may or may not be true
in real life.
Please do not shout heresy or unscriptural or

fake news!
This is a work of fiction!
i
PXE749559 Sanctuary Planet: Book One Authored by Wayne T. O’Conner
Any scripture references, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the
English Standard Version.
ii
Foreword:
For His own reasons, Elohim Most High classified a sister planet
of earth, in a faraway galaxy, as a Restricted Sanctuary Planet.
Invisible portals there contained wormhole passages to planet
earth, although most portals were demarcated by rings of tall
pointed stone obelisks. The planet, though designated as
PXE749559, was called, by its inhabitants, Corstevah, and was
a supercontinent that was an Edenic paradise that rivaled the
original creation of planet earth.
Originally two sentient races resided on Corstevah. One race,
the Draconians, were shiny skinned reptilian beings of great
physical prowess and magnificent intellect. Stealing some
technology from the Paxi and developing sciences of their own,
they created shuttles that could travel under the seas, into
space and across time. They also experimented with genetic
manipulation and created hybrid species of slaves and super-
soldiers. The Draconians became aggressive and warlike.
The other race was known as the Greater Paxi. Tall and thin,
physically they were very human looking, although not
outwardly, exactly the same. The Greater Paxi were very
peaceful, compassionate beings with almost photographic
memories and a knack for creating both simple and advanced
technological tools and machines that were beneficial to the
sentient species on their planet. The Lesser Paxi were just
shorter, plumper, less intellectual versions of their taller
cousins.
Both the Draconians and Paxi knew, and many served, the
Great Elohim. The Paxi honored their covenant with Him far
longer, than the Draconians, but while not seeking evil in the
ways of the Draconians, not only did they forget their covenant,
with Elohim Most High, but allied with an entity, of dark
prideful evil, called The Great Architect of Light.
The rebellion which had spanned galaxies was at last quashed,

but the planet Corstevah had been nearly destroyed. Both the
Draconians and the Paxi, the few that survived the nuclear
winter that smothered the planet PXE749559, following the
great cataclysm, reemerged as beasts bereft of sentience.
The Wormhole portals that allowed teleportation between cities
and their sister planet, earth, were mostly destroyed during the
catastrophe. Scattered across the continent were just less than
one hundred portals that had not been destroyed during the
disaster. They remained quiet for a millennium and then began
to slowly waken.
Solar flares and magnetic fluctuations in the planet’s energy
grid caused them to partially reactivate. The abilities of the
portals to allow travel between teleport ring locations on
Corstevah via those remaining platforms never regenerated.
However, if a solar flare or magnetic anomaly quickened a
portal, it caused an energy storm that pulled matter through
earth into the thirty-yard sandy circles of the stone rings.
Two archons of Elohim Most High, ones that had proven faithful
during the rebellion of the dark prideful entity of evil called The
Great Architect of Light, who had not only performed their
Watcher responsibilities fairly, without consorting with females,
or allowing themselves to be worshipped, were charged with
watching over the new humans from earth. They selected two
men from earth to help them with that task.
Nombre De Dios was an ex-Templar and mercenary, who had
discovered the dark secrets of that organization and disavowed
them. Chased from country to country across Western Europe
by assassins, he was at last given the opportunity to serve Jesu
Christo, on Planet PXE749559 as a Knight Warden of
Corstevah.
Benachmanides Bacharach was a young prodigy, hired by the
Vatican to serve as a caretaker in its Secret Relics Library.
iv
Exploring the books and artifacts too deeply, by going into the
under-city catacombs, where he had not been authorized, Ben,
when discovered, was sentenced to execution. Given the
opportunity by the archons of Corstevah to relocate to Planet
PXE749559, and assist Nombre de Dios, Scholar Ben accepted
his new commission and was removed from his prison cell.
Nombre and Scholar Ben were given spiritual gifts and access
to advance technology artifacts to rescue stranded humans,
brought to Planet PXE749559, during the infrequent wormhole
storms, and place them in villages where they could live safely.
They were also given the task of finding, amongst those stolen
from earth in the wormhole storms, men and women who had
the potential to be trained as Knights of Corstevah. Several First
Nations men and women, from the Nahanni Valley, Canada,
and a Canadian Royal Mounted Policeman, were the first to join
them in their epic adventure.
Book One is the first tale in the ongoing story of their
adventures.
v
CHAPTER 1:
WILL OF THE DIVINE COUNCIL
PSALM 82 God has taken his place in the divine

council;
in the midst of the gods he holds judgment:
2
“How long will you judge unjustly
and show partiality to the wicked? Selah
3
Give justice to the weak and the fatherless;
maintain the right of the afflicted and the
destitute.
4
Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”
5
They have neither knowledge nor understanding,
they walk about in darkness;
all the foundations of the earth are shaken.
6
I said, “You are gods,
sons of the Most High, all of you;
6
7
nevertheless, like men you shall die,
and fall like any prince.”
8
Arise, O God, judge the earth;
for you shall inherit all the nations!
Prologue
“That concludes today’s meeting of the Divine Council, my

beloved bene-elohim,” declared Elohim Most High. He
paused, then added, “However, I wish to converse privately
with Ambassadors Jazzaziel and Jeddiduqah. Please attend
me in my Walled Garden. Problems from our beloved Earth
are about to spill over into my Restricted Sanctuary Planet,
PXE749559, which I will allow for My own purposes. Since
you share responsibility for that planet, at My command, I
wish to discuss the issue with you.”
The Great Elohim vanished from the misty white halls of

the grand council chambers and appeared inside His private
Walled Garden of the ancient Edenic paradise. Momentarily
Jazz and Jedd appeared as well.
After leaving and appearing back on Planet PXE749559,

Archons Jazz and Jedd, appeared in the common room that
shared an inter-dimensional space between their respective
castles. However, during their brief flash between the Walled
Garden of Elohim Most High, they had traded their radiant
7
white ambassadorial gowns and scintillating wing-cloaks, a stiff

backed shoulder frame with a double hung cape below and wide
and broad pinafore collar, above, for their favorite personal
attire.
Planet PXE749559 contained a supercontinent called

Corstevah. Jazz Castle was in the northern Iron mountains,
while Jedd’s castle lay upon an island inside a lake at the
southern tip of Western Corstevah.
Eastern Corstevah was a great valley, boasting a vast flat

Serengeti of volcanic-soil grasslands, that ended with a plateau
that dropped magnificently into an azure blue inland sea. A few
mixed forests and pockets of tiny isolated highlands dotted the
otherwise open plains. The perimeter of Eastern Corstevah was
surrounded, on all sides. by a ring of extremely tall, impassible
mountains called The Spines of the World, that separated it
from Western Corstevah and the Great Outer Sea.
The oval room, of the inter-dimensional space, that conjoined

Jazz’ and Jedd’s Castles, was about twenty feet in
circumference. The architecture of the room was a smooth
misty white that resembled the ambiance of the Divine Council
Chambers.
The only furniture in the austere room were two high-backed

finely carved wooden chairs, one with a lavender velvet cushion
and the other, emerald green. Beside each chair was a small,
but elegantly carved table, topped with polished finely speckled
8
granite that matched the cushion color of each chair, but with
tiny flecks and streaks of gold, black, silver, red, indigo, purple,
white and yellow. On top of each table was an elegantly fluted
crystal bell, the finger clasp of each, a sparkling flat diamond,
whose smoky faceted hues were identical to that of the cushion
of its matching throne-like chair.
Both chairs had been designed to comfortably fit two broad

shouldered beings of superb physical condition that stood scant
millimeters above seven feet. Two sturdy faux wooden doors
were located on the wall directly behind each chair. Meter wide
squares that matched the cushion color of each chair were
positioned, like throw rugs in front of each door. Each faux door
contained a convex domed glass window, with a view of a castle.
Jedd Castle was located on a tiny island called Emerald Isle.
Jazz Castle was ensconced in a hanging valley of the North
Western Iron Mountains.
Jazz and Jedd had just taken their chairs, prepared to discuss
their private meeting with The Most High Elohim.
Archon Jazzaziel laced his long fingers over his knuckles,

pointer fingers upright and thumbs crossed, his elbows resting
on the smooth arms of his chair. Following a slow measured
intake of breath, Jazz peered at Jedd and commented, “This is
…an unexpected revelation. I did not see this scenario on the
horizon at all, Brother.”
9
Jedd cocked his head, causing his long, wavy brown hair, to flip
gently. He raised an eyebrow quizzically, his emerald green eyes
glinting and smiled, “Dear Brother, we are not omniscient.
Wise, yes, mostly. We are only small e elohim. Truly, only the
Most High Elohim knows all and sees all.”
Jazz shrugged, then mumbled, “That is true; His Majesty be

praised.”
Archon Jazzaziel, although he looked in bodily profile, like a

twin of Jedd, that was where the similarity ended. Their
comparison was more akin to fraternal twins, but their
analogies were strikingly obvious.
Jazz was not clean shaven; he had a curly, darkly golden van
dyke and long straight yellow gold hair that swept back like a
lion’s mane. His skin tone was very tanned, but light.
Jedd’s complexion was slightly darker, so he resembled a gypsy,

yet one dressed more like a 19th century nobleman.
Whereas Jedd’s eyes were brilliant scintillating emeralds, Jazz

had eyes of electric lavender. Both possessed high foreheads,
perfect complexions, high cheekbones, strong narrow chins and
appeared as if they could have graced the covers of Gentleman’s
Quarterly Magazine without the assistance of a cosmetics and
grooming crew.
Both by personality were calm, dignified, and compassionate,

yet Jedd possessed the greater penchant for humorous or
sardonic remarks.
Jazz had once commented to Jedd, “I am disinclined to gad

about caparisoned as a peacock.” To which Jedd promptly
quipped with a droll smirk, “at least I know the difference
between fashion sense, Brother, and horse-barding!”
10
Jedd had lost count of the times he had rolled his eyes as Jazz
would come striding heroically onto the scene. During such
times, Archon Jazzaziel, was reminiscent of the slow-motion
sequences of heroic sci-fi characters, in a few B movies. The
avant-garde archon often appeared, dramatically shedding his
invisibility mode, sporting a light mithril chainmail vest,
commonly worn over a bright pastel sleeveless pullover, and a
mid-calf length, leather jacket and knee-high, metal buckled
and studded, buccaneer’s boots.
Jedd replied, “Yes, Brother, this new revelation is indeed

a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”
Jazz sighed, “I shall hate to lose my man-servant. While my gift

castle renews its structure daily, as does yours, and has existed
since the beginning of the first age, I shall miss Nombre de Dios
greatly. It does not seem as if seven hundred years have passed
since the most High Elohim sent him to reside in my castle. He
prayed as well as he sparred, so he was a blessed man, indeed.”
“I shall miss my man servant as well,” agreed Jedd. “He was not
a trained knight, like Padre Nombre. Benachmanides
Bacharach, that delightful polyglot practically slept in the
library, until I began sending him off on missions to explore
Western Corstevah.
“You must admit Brother, we received them both the same day
and Elohim Most High had been very serious then, when He
told us that their assignments were only temporary. One day
they would be needed for special work prior to the end of
Corstevah’s second age.”
Jazz sighed, “Still seven hundred years is a long time. Maybe I

became lost in the rolling of the years. Much of that time we-
who-need-no-sleep still rested in suspended animation mode.”
11
“Even though we have an eternity,” replied Jedd, “it seemed as

if Elohim most High was saying time is short, Jazz. Enough
reminiscing. We should discuss our next tasks.”
“Tyrel and Stella,” asked Jazz, “or the four minor archons from
earth who think they could do a better job than the first seventy
watchers?”
“Tyrel and Stella,” answered Jedd. “We don’t want to overwhelm

them. I think they are strong enough in Elohim’s service, not
to start bowing down to us or becoming so afraid that we’ll end
up bollixing the mission, but still I think it would be best if one
of us stayed in invisible mode. You’re better at the dramatic
cryptic speeches, so why don’t you do the talking and I’ll stay
invisible.”
Jazz groaned, “That is a matter of opinion, says I!” He added,

“Jedd my Brother, when you desire to do so, you can be equally
as dramatic and cryptic, and you know it.”
Jedd chuckled warmly, “Any way you slice it, dear Brother, I
would prefer to ride shotgun on that task.”
“Fine, Brother, and concerning ‘The Four?’”
Jedd rolled his eyes, then exclaimed sarcastically, “The little

spots of brilliance in their history speaks volumes!” He added,
“Not the least of which is their gender fluid behavior! Yes, it is
part of our job description to form disguises, but they enjoy that
a wee bit too much. Am I exaggerating when I say that they
change genders weekly if not daily, and make Bacchanalian
revelers look like probies! I admit, dear Brother, they have been
confining that bit of sporting to themselves, rather than whoring
after humans, like those chained in Tartarus, but still!!!”
“No, Brother,” offered Jazz, “I can’t claim that you are

exaggerating. Well, maybe your statement is a bit excessive,
Jeddiduqah, but if Elohim most High expressly requested us to
12
tell them, that they have permission to do what they’ve been

secretly contemplating, He had good reason. And keep in mind,
Brother, that while ‘The Four’ are not entirely in The Accuser’s
camp, they are at best fence riders, and really don’t seem to
have Elohim Most High’s character in their hearts nor feel
compelled to honor Him as they should, or behave as is proper.
My best guess, is that the mystery of their choice, by divine
decree, is directly equated with your concerns and my last
statement!”
Jedd rolled his eyes and gestured with his hands, “I hear you,
Brother! And yes, I agree, Elohim Most High would not have
requested them without good reason, and it is His sovereign
right not to explain.”
Jazz replied, “So, do you want me to ride shotgun on that task,

or not?”
“No,” counseled Jedd, “I think we should both appear before

them. If they are feeling particularly brave or stupid, they might
become combative. Both of us appearing at once in their castle,
just on the edge of the earth dimension, should suffice. And a
Malak was dispatched before we left the Walled Garden; they
should be expecting a short Ambassadorial visit yet today. One
of us they might be able to tackle temporarily, although we
would reform and reanimate, within hours, but against two of
us – we can decimate an earthly army of two hundred thousand
in less than an hour – ‘The Four,’ even together, are weak and
wouldn’t stand a chance against the two of us!”
Jazz said, “Agreed. How about we bestow the new assignments

to our man servants, I will appear with you remaining invisible,
to Tyrel and Stella, and then, following a brief interlude back
here, we’ll go have a chat with ‘The Quad Squad.’”
Jedd grinned, “We have an accord!”
13
Both Cosmocratic Executive Assistants to Elohim the Most

High, and ambassadors of the Restricted Sanctuary Planet
PX749559, reached for their crystal bells and rang them briefly,
but briskly. The two bells chimed in harmony filling the room
with a fluid and beautiful melody, that was, pardon the pun,
angelic in its simple, yet brilliant, composition, likened unto the
world’s finest dulcimer hammer playing an abbreviated
rendition of “The Minute Waltz” in less than fifteen seconds.
Following a loud mechanical hum, and flash of light, Nombre

appeared behind Jazz, and Scholar Ben, behind Jedd, on their
respective portal squares, that lay within the shadow of the
wooden faux doors.
Almost in unison, Nombre and Ben exclaimed, “You rang, sir?”
Both attendants stepped forth and watched expectantly the face

of each master of castle.
Both archons smiled warmly, but it was Jazz who spoke first.
“We have just returned from a Divine Council Meeting; you have
both been promoted! Both of you have been released from your
duties as our manservants. You will each be provided an
appropriate residence as you assume your new duties on
Corstevah.
“If you remember, we shared with you both, the day you were
brought to us, that one day Elohim Most High had a special
mission for each of you. Today you are released into that new
mission. Your mentoring has come to its conclusion. It is the
will of the Most High Elohim that you interact with us now as
little as possible.”
Jedd cleared his throat, then declared, “We will dearly miss you
both.
14
“Nombre, my hombre, you will receive a small chapel in the

northlands of Eastern Corstevah. When you step onto your
portal, rather than appearing in my brother’s castle, you will
appear in your new home. Also, you will need a portion of your
youth restored in order to fulfill your mission.”
The hard-bony ridges that had formed over the centuries on

Nombre’s moon-faced visage, softened. His ears and nose, that
had slowly, over time, broadened and lengthened, signs of great
age, substantially diminished, making him look less like a
Neanderthal and more like a modern specimen of earthly origin.
“You, Nombre, Paladin and Cleric, will also be given a gift,

already dispensed to Benachminides, in the past- the gift of
Limited Translation. Neither of you will receive the full angelic
gift to appear anywhere, even distant galaxies, as we possess.
“Note that since this planet is a Restricted Access Sanctuary

Planet, even other archons and varieties of small e elohim,
cannot appear here without clearance from the Most High
Elohim.
“Unfortunately, there are two ways the enemy has gained a

foothold. Firstly, the ancient Draconian scientists mixed fallen
angel DNA in the non-Paxian chimeras.
“When those experiments died their evil spirits did not. Their
descendants, although their shades are lesser dark elohim, they
have each added that taint.
Secondly, the humans who have arrived via the circle portals,
often carried unclean spirits with them, as well, although when
they die, they do not leave behind an evil spirit. Yet, those
entities they were hosting travel far and wide seeking a new host
craving vicarious entertainment and a new soul to torment.
“But I digress. Back to your new spiritual gift, Padre. Just as

The Scholar can appear anywhere in Western Corstevah that he
15
can see in a digital picture or remember in his mind, from his

travels across the land, if he prays and asks to be taken there,
it shall now be done for you.
“You now have this gift, Nombre; there will be three photos of
landmarks and two paintings, that we have liberated from rare
hidden subterranean caches of ancient technology, displaying
sights of the land that still, miraculously, bear a close
resemblance to modern Eastern Corstevah, that will help you.
“You will find them in the study of your chapel. All you will need
to do Padre, is think of that picture, and pray, and you will be
there. However, like Ben, you will need to walk the length and
breadth of the land before this gift will begin to function fully.
Remember, this rare gift will only work in your realm of
responsibility. Just as Ben’s gift only functions in Western
Corstevah, yours, Nombre, will only operate within the confines
of the ancient dead volcano known as Eastern Corstevah. More
so, since your homes are no longer the castles, you will not, as
Ben has formerly been able to do, return to the castles via this
gift. Your bequest-dwellings have now become the beacon
linked to this prayer-ability from Elohim the Most High.
“We have also activated a set of the Ancient hand-held

Draconian Visual Communicators, that you will find in your gift
dwellings, that will allow you to communicate with each other.
The Scholar will find its twin in the audio-visual room at the top
of his library tower.
“While the race of Draconians native to this planet, that were

once sentient beings, also called Nacash, are still extant, their
descendants have become beasts, as was the case, but only
temporarily, for Nebuchadnezzar of Earth. While their
humanoid status has been removed permanently, their
sciences, although lost in the mists of antiquity, still exist,
hidden away in dark places.
16
He added, “Ben, my old friend, I am truly sorry, but you will

need to remain old in appearance, as a part of your mission.
However, like the character Caleb in the Book of Joshua, from
the Earth’s Bible, which you have read, you will remain
powerful and vigorous until your final day of life. Like Caleb you
will say, ‘as my strength was then, so my strength is now.’ From
now on you are to be called “The Scholar,” and you will be giving
quests, rather than receiving them. Your dwelling place will be
in a library, much like the one in the castle, with many books
and scrolls and a few ancient holo-stones that translate
knowledge into any language.”
Jazz and Jedd arose fluidly from their thrones, stepped forward,
to shake hands with Nombre and Ben. Each archonic mentor,
passed a scroll, that had appeared mysteriously into their
hands, to the Padre Nombre and Scholar Ben.
Jazz declared, “The details of your mission are found on the

interior of these scrolls -- study them carefully -- include the
names of people who one day will be sent to you for mentoring,
as well as other relevant factors and germane particulars. May
the Most High bless you and keep you and may you prosper in
your journeys. Farewell, beloved of the one and only capital E
Elohim!”
Jazz and Jedd disappeared without a trace.
Nombre and Benachminides, who had shared visits,

occasionally, were both shocked and excited, and chatted like
magpies. Saying their good-byes, they promised to meet again
as divine providence crossed their paths or as need provided,
visit via the communicators.
Padre Nombre, a retired knight, who had wandered ancient

Europe, Spain, the Holy Lands, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales,
during the twelfth century, had been banished, then hounded
by Templar assassins. De Dios had feared that he would be
executed by those knightly assassins after he had discovered
17
dark secrets behind the Templars, but he had been sheltered

under the Hand of the Most High Elohim.
Scholar Ben, the descendent of a famous Jewish teacher, had

also been excommunicated, from a posting in the secreted
antiquities and reliquary library located inside the deeper
chambers of the Vatican vaults.
Nombre and Ben gazed one last time at the misty white oval
room, where they had ben mentored in Elohim Most High’s
service, by Jazz and Jedd, then shared their final goodbyes.
Both shuffled off eagerly to their teleport squares, sad to be
using them for the last time, and emerged inside their new
dwellings.
Jazz and Jedd had reappeared in a small rural village on Earth.

Archon Jazzaziel arrived wearing his radiant ambassadorial
robes, on the steps of a modest country house in rural Dallas,
Wisconsin. Jedd, was there as well, but invisible.
Jazz knocked upon the door, knowing that he would be just as

invisible to anyone but Tyrel and Stella, as was Archon
Jeddiduqah. The date was March 3 rd, 1943.
Stella opened the door, took one look at Jazz, the lines of her
face smoothing temporarily. Her kind, rosy cheeked oval face,
beamed, but only dimly as compared to the body and clothing
of Archon Jazzaziel. Stella’s tender wrinkled hand raised,
quivering more than was usual, to cover her lips, “Tyrel, we have
a visitor!” Her voice, an octave higher than normal, forced Tyrel
to awaken, just as his eyes had closed and the first rumble of a
snore had escaped his hirsute Roman nose.
“Well don’t just stand there Lovie, invite them in, before they
turn into ice statues! Its almost 40 degrees below zero out there
18
today!” exclaimed Tyrel, arising slowly, with a grunt from his

recliner.
Tyrel was tall, possessing a pale hawk-face and broad dimpled

chin, that had lost the rugged handsomeness of youth. His was
a face, that now only regained a glimmer of its former
personable features, when he smiled. Only the sternest men
and women had ever been able to resist smiling back, both in
modernity and years back before youth had ebbed, and left his
frame shrunken and atrophied. Tyrel had never been broad
shouldered and muscular, but had always been wiry, fleet of
foot and flexible. He had excelled at cross country running for
his one room school. Tyrel had also excelled at his studies but
had decided to operate the family farm and marry his childhood
sweetheart, who he’d met in a sawdust floored tent church.
Except for a small love handle belly that bulged out from his red
and blue, MacAlister of Skye, plaid shirt, that peeked over the
edge of his thin black leather belt, Tyrel was almost waspish in
build. He rumbled, upon standing too quickly to his feet, “Lord
have mercy,” and almost fell. Jedd, retaining his invisibility,
delicately, but swiftly zoomed like a Zephyr’s whisper, into the
cozy old farmhouse, and propped the man upright.
Stella stepped aside, and swiftly closed the door, barring entry
to the wintry winds, as Jazz entered the quaint, but cluttered,
knick-knack covered house, filled with crosses and wall plaques
painted with nature scenes and imprinted with various Bible
verses.
Cinnamon laced scents of fresh apple pie, the sugared, and

golden, braided pie crust, recently taken from the oven was so
hot that it still bubbled. Stella’s pie had been removed from the
baby-blue, Royal Windsor, wood-fired cook stove, and placed
carefully on a crowing black rooster hot pad, that sat
protectively atop the blue checkered tablecloth which deftly
covered and skirted the kitchen table. The certain to be
19
scrumptious dessert, slowly cooled, waiting tantalizingly, for

the night’s after-supper dessert.
Jazz, startled as he gazed apprehensively at the teetering Tyrel,

exclaimed, “Do not be afraid, and do not fall at our feet, for we
are merely servants of the Most High, just as you yourselves!”
“We know who you are, just give us a moment,” wheezed Tyrel.
“As you wish,” said Jazz gently.
Tyrel finally said, “Obviously you must be here for a reason.
Why have you come?”
Jazz replied, “We have come from the Lord Most High, and He
has given us revelation and shared some of His plans. Even
though you are elderly saints, and you have even outlived your
sons and daughters, all who have died written in the Book of
Life, He has plans for you.
“Though you have sold your farm across the road, and retired,
over a decade ago, your work is not finished. Even though the
last member of the church that you faithfully attended for
decades has sold its building, and the land has been cleared,
your work in His service, is not over.
“The Most High has promised to strengthen you. Thus, says the
Lord, if you accept My call in this, though you are old you will
live and not die.”
“Yes, we are old, but we are willing,” replied Tyrel, “if this is His
will for us. What specifically is He asking?”
“He is asking you,” replied Jazz solemnly, “to trust Him and be
relocated this very day, in the blink-of-an-eye, to a far-away
place, where you will, from time to time, prepare meals and
share with people who visit you, about your life and testimony.”
20
“Is it warm there?” asked Stella. She frowned as she peered out
the kitchen window, at the oft invisible afternoon sun and the
thick white frigid blankets of ever blowing and drifting snow,
that covered her yard. “Will I have a nice kitchen?”
Tyrel looked at his wife quizzically and shook his head.
“As a matter of fact,” smiled Jazz, his eyes fleetingly
transformed from bright blue to electric lavender, “Stella, I gar-
own-tee,” momentarily taking on a Cajun accent, “that it is
seasonably warm, year round, has a beautiful lake, refreshed
by a mountain stream, and flowers that will put even your, talk
o’ the town, summer gardens, to shame.
“Additionally, friends of mine will move your kitchen and your
upstairs bedroom, instantly, to your new home. Are you, Tyrel
and Stella, willing to enjoy one last adventure, before the Most
High calls you home?”
Tyrel and Stella looked at each other, mouths gaping in
amazement. Stella frowned, but then jumping jacked in place,
clapped her hands, and asked, “Do you reckon we should do
this Ty?”
Tyrel sighed, “I don’t feel up to it, tell the truth, but you don’t
say no to The Big Man. I’m ready if you are, Lovie.” He coughed,
then looked at Jazz, nodded, and replied, “Yes, we will go with
you. Is there anything else?”
“Would you,” grinned Jazz, “like to hear a small section of what
the Most High said just before he specifically asked for both of
you by name?”
“That would be right dandy!” replied both Ty and Stella almost
in unison.
Jazz struck a dramatic pose and heralded forth,
21
“Go to Earth! The war of the black suns and the dark entity of
pride and music, who still wages war with me, for reason of
jealousy, has fomented another world war.
“Find my servants Tyrel and Stella, on March third, 1943, who
live in the backwoods of a town called Dallas, Wisconsin. They
have been exemplary in my service, in the old land of the
feathered serpent; despite that difficulty they persevered with
honor.
“Even though they have outlived their children and have waxed
old like a garment, ask them if they will perform one last
mission for me. One that will take them from the land that
quoted, through a small g goddess in disguise, which towers
above New York Harbor, ‘Give me your tired, your poor, Your
huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse
of your teeming shore.’
“Tell Tyrel and Stella that I know their hearts; for My Salvation
is His Name, brought them to me in their youth, and now that
they are old, they have not departed from my ways.
“After you bring them hither, Jazzaziel and Jeddiduqah, I will
transfer their souls and spirits into new minds and bodies -
theirs, but new and improved - as strong and robust as that of
my man of earth who named the animals, for joy of My creation.
And Stella, though it seems that she can never be the mother
of the living, ever again, because she honored me more than the
first mother, she will be blessed one day, with a family, once
more.”
Both Tyrel and Stella looked stunned. Stella finely said, “I don’t
know what to say. Why don’t you have pie and coffee with us
before you go?”
Jazz smiled warmly, “Beings such as myself may eat, but alas,
duty calls and I must deny the joy my palate would receive at
the blessing of sharing pie and coffee with you. You won’t see
22
much of me, in the land of your new home, but a human friend
of mine, named Scholar Ben, will visit you shortly.”
Jazz and Jedd appeared back in their ready room where they
had debriefed concerning Elohim Most High’s private
discussion. Both were visible, yet still wearing their
ambassadorial uniforms with the winged capes, as they did not
possess wings. That was mere superstition – a product of
pagan’s fables and tales that mistaken religious teachers loved
to dispense as doctrine. They were not that class of archon,
being neither seraphim or dark pagan elohim like the Shedu or
Lamassu.
“Two down, one to go, Brother,” stated Jazz.
Jedd replied, “Who is going to remind them that archons of

Elohim do not solicit worship and that they will be expected to
give justice to the weak and the fatherless, to maintain the
right of the afflicted and the destitute, to rescue the weak and
the needy, and deliver them from the hand of the wicked, or
they will lose many of their special abilities, including
immortality and die like mere men!”
“I’ll do that;” offered Jazz, “You tell them that they are only going
to be allowed this relocation, and permission to entice that
European cult group, and their entourage,” he paused, sighed
and continued, “of elite intellectual wannabees, world renown
doctors from many fields, if they succeed in getting that
defrocked doctor of General and Holistic Medicine, who really is
exceptionally brilliant in her field, Eliza Wallace, on board.”
When Jedd nodded his head in affirmation, Jazz added, “And

don’t forget Brother, they are going to ask to be given the right
23
to form a colonial breakaway civilization above the old

Draconian underground base with its vault of ancient
knowledge…Well, that’s not going to happen! A solar flare will
send them off course, and instead they will arrive in the ringed
mountain prison, East Corstevah, which has now become
Nombre de Dios’ bailiwick.
“That fine piece of real estate shall be given to others, and only
Elohim Most High knows why. He says it is of penultimate
import that the clan of the black suns and American Project
Paperclip scientists, receive that bounty, although they will be
stopped and judged severely, when their cup of iniquity is full!
We must be purposely vague on that point if the question
arises.”
Jedd nodded again, winked, and said, “Mum is the word,

Brother.”
“Do we have an accord?” asked Jazz.
“Indeed, Archon Jazzaziel,” added Archon Jeddiduqah, a

reflective, speculative glint shimmering in his emerald green
eyes, “I am inclined to acquiesce to your request, dear Brother!”
“Let us, ‘Make it so!’” declared Jazz. “And when we return, some
suspended animation down-time. Events will begin to ramp up,
and we must remain ready, yet we cannot let friends old and
new become too dependent upon us or allow them to fixate on
us in ways that are reserved only for Elohim Most High. We have
24
much to do, but our modus operandi, at least with Nombre and
Ben, and other human servants like Tyrel and Stella, have
changed back to normal. Once again, we must be vigilant
watchers, ready to assist and intervene, but taking on again
more of a behind the scenes role, ears open to prayer requests,
but not commands, except from the Most High Elohim.”
“Yes, Brother Jazz, I whole heartedly concur.” Jedd paused and

continued, “That is one of the onuses of being good archons and
a balance game hairier than a tight rope walk across Niagara
Falls, Earth!”
Jedd continued, “Our Prime Directive is to faithfully honor and

serve the Great Elohim in all things, while carefully walking the
narrow path betwixt and between benign watch-care and our
non-interference directive which prohibits meddlesome
activities with the internal and natural development of a
planet’s civilizations, whether those beings are - or are not - in
good standing with our eternal Master, the one true capital G
God.”
25
26
CHAPTER 2:
SCHOLAR BEN’S LIBRARY TOWER
I, wisdom, dwell with prudence, and I find knowledge and

discretion.
Proverbs 8:12 KJV
It is the glory of God to conceal things,

but the glory of kings is to search things out. Proverbs 25:2
KJV
Scholar Ben stepped onto his portal, which had each time
before, taken him from the Archon Chamber, into Castle Jedd.
Archon Jedd had rarely visited the grand castle. Most of the
time both archons had sat in their high-back thrones, in a state
of suspended animation, still as statues, waiting for Elohim
Most High to give them new mission briefings.
Ben rarely saw Nombre or the two good archons. Once per
month, Jedd and Jazz would visit Padre and Ben, share a meal
with them, and talk to them about the Capital E. Elohim and
answer some of their questions. If Padre or Ben were out
questing, the two archons would visit them, outside of the
castles, unless they were in a village.
27
Scholar Ben looked like a tall, lean, older version of the Geico
caveman. However, he did not have the long unruly locks of
medium brown hair that covered the head, face, and shoulders
of that iconic figure of contemporary earth’s insurance
commercials. Ben wore a brown leather skullcap that reminded
him of his scholar’s cap that he had worn, as a librarian-in-
residence, when he had worked during the eighteen seventies
at the Vatican.
Ben was an elite earth scholar, who had graduated from college
long before his twenty-first year of life. He had earned degrees
in natural science, comparative religion, and archeology. Ben
was also a polyglot, with a gift for languages, comparable to the
famous future Catholic scholar, Malachi Martin, and just as
likely to ponder life’s questions outside of the box.
Even though Benachmanides Bacharach was a gifted

intellectual, he now looked like a Neanderthal. Back on earth
while he was a student, he had been lanky and gangly – neither
ugly nor good looking. Master Bacharach had grown into a tall,
but thin young man, and before he could be married off by his
conniving mother, had agreed to join the staff of the Vatican,
and vowed to be celibate.
Following his first century of extended life on Planet

PXE749559, Ben’s facial bones had begun hardening, and
changing shape, especially his cranium and facial bones. His
ears had slowly grown longer and larger, as had his nose. Ben,
over the course of the seven centuries had, ever so slowly, even
grown a few inches. He now stood six feet three inches tall.
Ben wore a long brown leather cloak trimmed in scarlet. It had

a hood, but he rarely wore it up, preferring it left down. Ben
also wore thin wool leggings and fur boots. His brown leather
belt was wide and thick, belted tightly around a narrow waist.
Bacharach’s close cropped white and sandy hair, cut with

scissors, that he had found in his bedroom, in his personal
28
quarters at the castle. Along with that grooming kit, had been
an apparatus that looked akin to a modern electric razor. Ben
washed daily with water in a basin. There was a room with a
tub, not too far from the courtyard, if one cared to haul and
heat water from the courtyard well. In two adjacent rooms were
stalls of small-holed privies, the holes of which, fell into a deep
cavern.
Ben had lost count of the scissors he had broken or worn out,
but the razor, which contained a crystal energy system, seemed
to have the potential to far outlast the legendary life span of the
Energizer bunny. He had been told that the grooming tool would
last a lifetime. He had stopped wondering, over six hundred
years before, how long his life might be. He just took life one
day at a time and found tasks to busy himself.
Following the tingling sensation that had energized his body,

from his Longfellow feet to the top of his short cropped sandy
white hair, Ben had appeared in his new residence, a library
tower. Following his exit from the ready room of Archons Jazz
and Jedd, Ben had materialized in his new gift-dwelling.
Excited as a giddy knee-pants garbed boy, about to open his

Christmastide gifts, Ben gazed around the room. The first floor
of the tower was round. Native stone stacked row upon row but
flattened and smoothed in a manner that was not achievable by
twenty first century building standards, greeted his keen
medium brown observer’s eyes.
The tower was not the design of any of the rare and scattered
human villages that sprinkled Western Corstevah. Such
hamlets were usually found not too far away from the rock
circles that dotted the land at equidistant intervals. Zones of
safety hidden in thick forest land or the steep slopes of the Iron
mountains, where the largest carnivores did not roam.
29
While the room was thirty feet in circumference, it was about

ten feet in height. Windows, shutters open, allowed fresh
mountain drafts to gently disperse through the room.
Small wooden bookshelves, about twelve inches deep and five

feet high, ran from the center of the room, fanning out like a
clock, in twelve rows. The bookcases ran parallel to each other,
looking like a sliced pie. All the bookcases merged into a central
area with a roughly cut round oak table and benches. Each
bench had folded deer and bear hides draped across them. One
bookcase had stacks of little slate boards and chalk kits, as well
as parchment, ink bottles, and quills.
On the table sat his traveling kit, a small leather pack, and
leather goat-bladder bota bag. Ben’s staff and a medium yew
bow, with a quiver of iron-tipped arrows had also been placed
on the table. His friend, from the other castle, Padre, had helped
him craft both weapons.
Padre was the son of an early twelfth century Spaniard. His

father had been a weapons and arms smith, who had traveled
as a farrier with a mercenary Templar battalion. Indeed, the
skillful knight, had helped Ben craft the bow and staff, and
taught him the art of fletching.
Nombre de Dios had combined skills taught to him by his

father, with information in a metallurgy text from Jazz Castle
Library. He had then set up a blacksmith shop with an ore
smelter.
Corstevah had mineral deposits in caves and even above ground

ore-banks could be spotted in the surface rock found
throughout the wilderness, especially in the Iron Mountains.
Much ore was native to Corstevah, but the meteor shower at the
end of the first age, had left deposits of meteoric ore as well.
30
Among the meteoric ore, was a rare type that contained a

unique resonant copper. Jazz had sent Ben and Padre de Dios
to find a deposit of the rare copper laced meteor ore. That
particular ore, when crafted into a weapon, was especially
deadly to beasts that had ten to fifty percent angelic DNA.
Weapons designed with that rare copper alloy disrupted the

angelic DNA chimera’s supernatural regeneration capability.
However, decapitation was the only certain way to permanently
end the regeneration of that type of chimera.
Padre had crafted a mace and a katana for his own use with
that ore. He had also used the remainder to form end caps on
Ben’s staff.
While that regeneration disruption effect was extremely potent

concerning angelic DNA chimeras, it also in a lesser manner,
effected the general, non-divine, regeneration abilities inherent
in all Corstevah’s fauna.
Jazz had told Ben and Padre that only about two dozen small
deposits of that ore could be found on Corstevah. In the future,
when it would be needed, a copy of the map would be given to
Ben. Ben would send a group of special priests and warriors on
a quest to find the remaining ore, just prior to the end of
Corstevah’s second age.
While Ben had never learned the craft of smithing, he could

make a serviceable wooden staff and bow, as well as working
arrows. The more complex art of the metal artisans trade was
not a field of study that was within his natural giftings or
interest.
Ben sat his instruction scroll, that Jedd had just given him,
onto the table, then quickly browsed through the books of the
nearest bookcase. The books and a few scrolls were written in
a variety of languages, some of them dead languages, and the
31
topic of this unit appeared to be tomes regarding the histories

of either Earth or Corstevah.
There were a few that had been written in languages that he

was unable to read, but Ben was not concerned. He had been
told that his communicator was in an audio video room at the
top of the tower. Ben figured that one of the small green and
white flecked, round on the top and flat on the bottom, holo-
stones, like the one in Jedd’s library, would also be found here.
“Very bodacious! I am indeed pleased with my gift-dwelling,”

smiled the scholar. Ben Bacharach bowed then and muttered,
with all sincerity, “Deus gratias ago tibi; Thank you God.”
He noted that the room had two doorways. One led outside, the
other located in an open space between two rows of
bookshelves, revealed an ascending wooden staircase that
followed the inside wall up to an enclosed loft. Debating, he
finally strode to the exit door. Stepping outside, Ben gazed at
the beautiful vista.
Clear and crisp, the afternoon sun, as usual, was bright and
the air balmy. Seasons across the land varied little. Corstevah
was a paradise of endless early summer.
Ben’s tower sat atop a small hillock, in the lower foothills of the
Iron Mountain range. It was nestled quaintly in the midst of an
oak and white birch copse. Towering, and thick, the trees
tended to grow together more closely than those of their kind
on earth.
Apple, pear, and peach trees, as well as a variety of nut trees

like earthen almonds and pecans, grew in clumpy rows, not too
far from a hand jack pump. An outhouse was visible, about a
half a block away.
32
More comestible varieties of trees grew around the tower. A

thinner row also meandered down the hill and became lost
around the south-east edge of the grove.
Wild carrots, turnips, potatoes, yams, and an assortment of

beans grew in great abundance in bunches and patches.
Grains dotted the plains below his tower, in sizable
checkerboard swaths that danced in the breezes, tussocked
above the lush grasslands like thousands of furling pennant
flags. The native gardens of the paradise planet were unchoked
by weeds and thorns, as was common on earth.
Corstevah was a place where hunter-gatherers easily thrived.

Many fruits grew year-round. Vegetables and root foods would
often mature, and new growth sprout and grow, two or three
times per year. Most fruits and vegetables grew three to five
times larger on Corstevah than variations of the same type on
earth. Fall and winter had no holds in the land; harvest-time
was a monthly occurrence, although some foods matured at
different rates.
Not too far from the hand pump, there was a fire pit, and
roasting/smoking rack, with a stack of wood and kindling. A
leather pouch with a flint kit, and dry moss, hung with a deer
sinew thong, dangled from an iron rack. That same rack held
various camping utensils and a few cast-iron pots and pans.
Two or three times per week, in the past, or when out questing,
Ben or Padre would roast a deer, elk, moose, or small to medium
dinosaur. According to an ancient Paxi book they had found in
both castle libraries, to test whether a dinosaur was edible, one
could watch if they were commonly eaten by other mammals or
rend its fat over a campfire. If the resulting lard was clear, it
was safe. If it was mottled or dark, that meat was not to be
eaten. The Paxi were so like humans that whatever they could
eat was also safe for human consumption.
33
Gray, meter wide, flat-topped boulders circled the fire pit and
doubled as spark reflectors, and off-the-fire tables for red hot
pans and pots.
A few feet away from the circular pit, there was an outer ring of
half logs, designed as seating. They were split down the center
lengthwise. Each bench sat, rough dark bark upright, on top of
a circle of sand that extended another two yards into the grass.
There was also a stone oven, near the pit, with a wood stash bin
on the bottom, and a metal grill top with a hooded stone dome,
perched above it.
Huge tracts of timber skirted the Iron Mountains, miles deep,

on both sides of the mountain range. A giant array of the
strange gray bulbous barrel trees native to Earth’s Madagascar
region, but much larger, and taller, formed a second shorter
band around the forest edges. The barrel trees were filled with
pulpy water in the center, but its exterior was as durable as
iron. Even the gigantic inland dinosaurs, if their massive jaws
could break one, avoided them. The bitter taste would have sent
it bellowing and roaring, in a mad dash, to the nearest lake or
river, to wash out the acrid taste. If they made it to water, as
oils on the bark and in the pulpy interior, could cause caustic
burns and vertigo, followed by unconsciousness.
The barrel trees grew so thick, that only smaller creatures, no

bigger than a small man, could gain entry. At times one could
walk for miles before finding an opening in its perimeter. And
Ben had done just that over the centuries. One of the early
quests, following a year of study in the castle library, given by
Archon Jedd, to Ben, had been to journal and map the lands of
Western Corstevah. That project had taken literally fistfuls of
decades. Short interspaced fortnight vacations, scattered in
between the years, came to mind, as Ben thought back on his
adventures.
Robins and chickadees, a bit larger than their earthly cousins,

flittered here and there among the trees, near the stone tower.
34
While he did not see them, Ben heard the scolding of a blue jay
and the gamboling and chattering of a pair of squirrels. From
time to time a robin would alight upon the green grasses, that
ruffled in the light breeze, in his yard, to sing and hop, poking
for worms.
Ben watched a flock of chickadees cloistered around a patch of

sunflowers, enjoying nature’s buffet.
Hundreds of variations of birds, from tiny hummingbirds to the

huge flightless avians, such as ostriches, emus, and dodos,
ranged the vast super-continent of Corstevah.
Occasionally, pterosaurs would venture inland. These long

beaked and pointy headed flying reptiles competed with falcons,
hawks, buzzards, and eagles for small creatures or
decomposing creatures of any size. The birds of prey ranged
from normal earth size samplings, to monster-sized specimens
of mythical exaggerations.
Like their avian competitors, the reptilian pterosaurs, came in

a diversity of sizes. A smaller mixture congregated in the island
chain that graced the inland see of Eastern Corstevah. Not only
were they smaller but glistened in the sunlight. The island
caverns hosted colonies of bioluminescent fungi that covered
the walls, and the creatures who dwelled within. The larger
types, both tailless and barb-tailed kinds, had dull pebbly skin.
They were free of the reflective fungi and haunted the cliff-caves
of the mountains along the shores of the great outer ocean.
Ben paused to consider the flowers that lined the base of his
tower and circled the boles of most of the trees like fairy caps.
His tower grounds were a veritable botanical garden. Flowers
grew in every direction, near and far from Ben’s tower, bigger
and brighter than those native to earth. His botanist’s mind
reminded him that there were species of fauna here, that had
never grown upon earth or had died out ages ago.
35
Roses, but not rambled in the way an untended earth garden

would normally bloom, competed with massive agglomerations
of hibiscuses, orchids, and wildflowers, in rainbows of colors,
that dotted the landscape, in kaleidoscope sprinkles. Each
added their own potent scents. Strangely, the plants, although
not tended, were not choked with weeds and brambles.
Shadowing his eyes with a hand, Ben gazed into the distance
along the south east horizon. A family of elk grazed on the flats
outside of the foothills. That grassy plain extended hundreds
of miles beyond his range of vision before kissing the tall snow-
capped Spine of the World mountains.
Greatly proportioned, its dark tan head was topped with a

trophy rack twice the size of any world record Cervus
canadensis from contemporary earth. The great bull scanned
the skyline, near and far. It warily sniffed the air for predators.
Ears flicking, it stretched high its regal neck. Next it rumbled a
throaty snort before it bugled like a Lord of the Rings
Ringwraith. Following his declaration of dominance, it lowered
its massive rack, muzzle nuzzling the ground. Like the others,
it greedily munched the lush tufts of emerald green pasture that
filled the grasslands.
Both mammalian and reptilian creatures roamed the verdant

park lands of Corstevah, but the older and larger types, tended
to range the open spaces, more towards the center plains, and
avoided the foothills and mountains. Ben knew that as large as
that bull wapiti was, there were specimens roaming the central
plains that might be two or three times as large.
Most smaller creatures, especially humans, inclined towards

the safety of the foothills of the Iron Mountain range and the
densely forested regions. Contrarily, the high mountains of the
Spine of the World, people, and many animals, avoided.
Those mountains were not safe. They were populated by the

cannibalistic Skookum. Those monstrous ancient hairy
36
humanoids, like the earthly sasquatch, ranged from ten to

fifteen feet tall or more. Many were double that height and
bulkier than earth’s largest silver-tip gorillas. The monstrous
beast-men were incredibly fast and powerful, and exuded a
pungent aroma that blended skunk scent and rotted flesh. They
were very territorial. If not bothered, they would suspiciously
eye any humans who wandered within range, but unless they
violated the boundaries of their mountain, the Skookum would
ignore them.
Some of the Skookum possessed a psionic ability that bent light

waves around themselves, concealing their presence. If you
were a keen observer, you would see a blurry area, as if you
were looking through multiple layers of dusty Saran Wrap.
However, that trick did not disguise the obnoxious redolent
smell or the outline of their huge feet splaying mud or grass.
Still, if they were hiding in a tree or standing on a solid surface,
and were down wind, that was another kettle of fish.
Skookum, although they would devour most human interlopers

that dared venture into their lands, did not consider them a
delicacy. Their favorite foods were large sauropods and
mammoths, which they would hunt with spears. They ripped
off the chunks of meat, and carried them, wrapped in the freshly
bloody skins, of their kills, back to their camps to roast over
roaring fires.
Ben had, during an early exploration venture, watched a

Skookum bull that topped twenty feet in height, run down a
yearling musk ox heifer. He had once watched a hunting party
of them, armed with slings and ten-foot spears, but this lone
Skookum had been weaponless.
Small for its kind, the wild Bovidae had been larger than any
contemporary earth specimen. Ben had been flabbergasted by
the sheer power of the immense hairy Wildman. The Skookum
had raced beside the running musk ox, his strides over six feet
apiece. It had hooked one massive muscular arm around the
37
beast’s neck, lifted the running musk ox up, under its arm, and
carried it forward, all four legs off the ground, kicking wildly.
The Skookum, without stopping, had then ripped the oxen’s

front leg off with its other hairy arm. The beast-man had then
dropped the bellowing cow, without breaking stride. It ran off,
ripping the skin of the leg from thigh to hoof, and devoured the
meat raw from the bone, and then flung it away. Sprinting in
long rangy strides, it raced back towards the Spine of the World
mountains.
Ben saw it look back once at the dying cow. Vultures began to
circle the exsanguinating musk ox. Not long after that a pride
of the yellow, black spotted and black maned lions, common to
the area, had appeared. They had been drawn by the musk ox
heifer’s caterwauling and the smell of its blood. One lion ripped
its throat out, while the others surrounded the downed cow,
held it down with their forepaws and body weight, and
proceeded to feast. Ben had taken off in a direction away from
the lions and the mountain territory of the Skookum tribes.
Technically, the hairy hominids of Corstevah were not

carnivores. They were omnivorous creatures, who also ate
leaves, grains, and fruits, especially berries. Nor were they
averse to eating eggs, small lizards, birds, fish, and the tiny
miniature whales, two to three feet in length, which populated
the lakes and inland sea. Despite their varied palate, the
creatures were always on the lookout for the large herbivorous
dinosaurs or mammoths who wandered too close -within range
of sight or within olfactory limitations - to the borders of their
mountain lands.
Unless they had good reasons, the Skookum did not leave the
vast mountainous slopes of the Spine of the World mountains
and foothills. The only other enticement for them to leave the
mountains of the Spines of the World, were the pointy ring
circles that were scattered across Corstevah.
38
For those circles that grew close enough to their mountain, they
could instinctively sense when their magnetic fluctuations
became strong. Skookum craved the excitation and stimulation
of their brains pleasure centers. When the pylon circles were
entering a hyper stage, the Skookum would, immerse
themselves in that pleasure and dance and sing.
Trees grew on the open slopes of the Spine of the World

mountains, but only sparsely. The gigantic barrel trees, that
grew along the borders of the forests, did not. Those weird trees
that shadowed the Iron Mountain range, never grew in the
vicinity of the Spine of the World mountains.
Turning then to the northwest, and walking around the tower,

Ben watched the majestic sweep of the panoramic mottled gray
and rust peaks of the Iron Mountains. That chain started in the
south west, only several hours journey from the sea.
To the north, it meandered briefly eastward, and thickened in

the middle like a portly man, then bent around in a gentle curve
about the length and breadth of the state of Wisconsin. After
that it narrowed and fanned out many months journey by foot,
and finally nestled against the sea to the north west. It
intersected along the northern shores of the Spine of the World
mountains. That skyscraping mountain chain, much taller
than the Iron Mountain range, was uniformly tall and narrow.
It surrounded the extinct volcanic circle of mostly plains, that
was the massive isolated center of Eastern Corstevah.
Only views from high elevations, presented that image of the fat
man with the funny hat and big shoes. Most people who viewed
the mountains, only saw them from the vantage point of their
relative position, walking the mountain paths, or foothills, and
were blissfully unaware of that birds-eye view of the Iron
mountain chain. In a sense, the phenomenon was similar to the
Nazca drawings of Peru, in that one needed to be elevated high
above the ground to discern the figures drawn in the sand.
39
Only humans who were reckless or desperate roamed the

plains. Ben had done so, but warily. He also had the Far Travel
gift, which other humans could not use. A large, well-armed and
well-trained group might travel outside of the relative safety of
the mountains and dense forests, but such travel was risky and
rare. And the closer to the center of the plains one traveled, the
larger the size and numbers of beasts grew.
Ben had been forced to use his Far Travel gift on numerous
occasions when he had explored the plains on both sides of the
Iron Mountains. Padre had never ventured the plains unless
Jedd or Jazz had accompanied him. The knight had not
received the Far Travel gift, which only worked in the area of his
new watch-care, until he had been promoted to knight warden
of Eastern Corstevah.
Two or three normal men, or even a dozen, would stand little

chance against the mega-fauna of the deep plains. Against one
monster, there was a possibility, but the denizens of the center
lands rarely traveled alone. Before one monster could be
successfully killed, another group of hungry maneaters would
arrive on the scene.
Teeming bands of aurochs, wildebeests, yaks, hairy and

hairless elephants, deer, elk, bison, moose, and dinosaurs, from
Ankylosaurus to Zuniceratops, grazed in countless herds. Free-
range beasts that roamed the grassland browsing the super-
nutrient swards. They roamed in numbers that rivaled the
populations of wooly American buffalo that could stop early
American trains in their tracks for up to three hours.
There were as well small herds of semi-aquatic behemoths such

as diplodocus and brachiosaurus, but the vast majority of those
breeds, roamed near the inner or outer seas. Dinosaurs, from
dimetrodons to stegosaurs, or even large ceratopsians or the
turkey-sized compsognathidae breeds could be found in smaller
numbers anywhere on the plain. Most that roamed the inner
plains stayed near the numerous rivers, lakes, and swamps.
40
And wherever these beasts were found, dinosaurian carnivores

from allosaurus to xiyunykus were never far behind.
On the supercontinent of Corstevah roving packs of predators

skirted the herds on all sides. Mostly they watched for the
wounded or young to wander to the edges, while at other times
they would stampede the herd, hoping for a beast to become
separated or injured, making them easy prey.
Carnivorous Tyrannosaurus Rex or the omnivorous triceratops

roamed the lands. The triceratops was mainly a plant eater,
but the camouflaged greenish gray dinosaur, with its black and
yellow stripes, would also eat dead carcasses or small animals.
They were very ill-tempered brutes. More so than their one to
five horned, ceratopsians, and multi-horned cousins, such as
the styracosaurus. The other ceratopsians, while not exactly
mild mannered, were strict herbivores.
A host of titanic two and four-legged meat-eating reptiles were

not the only predators. Prides and packs of monster lions,
wolves, cave bears, sabretooth tigers, and hyeanadons roamed
the inner flatlands, making the grasslands the most dangerous
places on Corstevah for beasts and men alike.
Only the small hunting parties of Skookum, armed with their

slings and flint-tipped spears, large as a weaver’s beam, were
unafraid to roam the plains, that bordered their mountain
homes. Occasionally a battle occurred where, vanquished, the
legendary Skookum, became the bloody repast of predators and
carrions.
Walking back into his library, Ben ambled up the circling stairs
that entered the loft. The center loft, twenty feet in
circumference, contained an iron bed with a down-stuffed
mattress and a cured auroch fur. The middle level of the tower
was several feet smaller in circumference, which eluded Ben’s
detection for a few days. It contained a concealed doorway in an
empty walk-in wardrobe that led to a basement level library.
41
Large and black, a wooden wardrobe stood tall against the curve
of the wall. Ben opened it and found his clothing and personal
items, which he had owned at the castle. Rummaging through
the drawers, he found a small leather-bound book, that he had
helped design. It was a tally-book calendar, adjusted for
Corstevah’s solar cycle. Tucked inside a leather pouch,
attached to the inner front cover, was a homemade charcoal
stub for marking each new day. He circled the date, then placed
the book in one of the many pockets of his robe.
Walking up the final, shorter set of stairs, into the upper room,
that also possessed a twenty-foot radius, Ben found himself in
the room under the tower’s canopy. He had at last found the
audiovisual room. Ben hoped that it was like the advanced
technology library found at Castle Jedd. While it was not as
finely decorated as the castle, it contained all for which he had
hoped.
The room included numerous empty cabinets and display

tables, as well as, three desks, to his pleasant surprise. Ben
boomed in his best orator’s voice, “Greetings and Salutations,
dear friends!”
Two still as statue holograms hummed momentarily with a

sound reminiscent of twentieth century movie projectors. They
spun in their wheeled office chairs, away from their desks.
Both animations were surprisingly life-like, although

occasionally tiny flashes of static would distort their three-
dimensional surfaces. Another glitch was that their well-
modulated voices would dim in volume or crackle like the start
of an old gramophone.
As usual, the tall man, with the bright blue eyes, and long
tapered nose, and wavy white locks, arose fluidly. He then,
stepped forward with a bow and flourish. He stated, “Greetings,
Scholar Benachminides, your old friend, Tutor Ovineecci, has
42
missed you.” Ovin spoke in a fine tenor voice, parsed in

twentieth century grammar, although he was fluent in more
languages than Ben.
During his first year, Ovin had refreshed Ben on a variety of

subjects. The holographic instructor had also informed him,
that in the future, there would be an influx of new colonists that
would speak a modern variety of English.
However, prior to that, people of various earth languages,

especially Canadian French, Navaho, Cree, Innuit and Ojibwe
would continue to trickle into Corstevah through the stone
circles.
The portals across Corstevah, had only opened the dimensional

doorways infrequently in the past. A few years before he and
Padre had been brought to the planet, the ring circles had
suddenly experienced an uptick in eruptions that had never
waned. It had been both Ben and Padre’s experience, that, in
addition to statistically significant numbers of Canadians and
Americans, a large percentage of those who were captured
during the dimensional storms, were of German heritage.
However, every racial variety of earth human was represented
on Corstevah, although blacks and Asians had the least
representation at the time of Scholar Ben’s receiving his library
tower.
Ben reigned in his speculative profiling of the portal

phenomenon and focused again on the animatronic tutor.
Ovineecci primarily used a Socratic method of teaching, aided

by videos played on a holographic monitor that was part of his
advanced technology desk prop.
Upon meeting and conversing with his compatriot from Jazz

Castle, Ben had discovered that Nombre de Dios, had been
given an ancient Paxi device called a universal language
43
translator pendant. Ben had found three of the devices in the

Castle Jedd library, but had never used one himself.
Unlike Ben’s tutor, Nombre’s holographic “friends” were

primarily knights. They taught ancient hand weapons, defense
strategy, investigative technique, and diplomacy.
Nombre had not been provided with a holographic scribe.

However, Sir Reginald Winthrop, dressed in steel, from helm to
pointy steel studded leather sabatons, had been paired with
another holographic instructor, Arthos d’Artigan. Arthos was
attired with the classic plumed hat and caped uniform of a
Dumas 17th century musketeer. Like Tutor Ovineecci and
Scribe Dominic, the two holographic knights appeared very real.
They also suffered momentary glitches as their voices crackled
or lighting aberrations marred their surface appearance.
Nombre had been a highly trained warrior before meeting them

but had used them for sparring practice. He had also allowed
them to hone the skills he needed to train village guards, to
defend their villages from wandering monsters and bandits.
Nombre had wanted Jazz or Jedd to spar with him and teach
him greater levels of warrior or smithing craft. To his
disappointment, as Nombre had once shared with Ben, both
archons had firmly refused to acquiesce to his request.
Archons Jazzaziel and Jeddiduqah had firmly informed Ben’s

friend, Padre, that they had skirted a fine line already. Merely
allowing them access to the holographic knight tutors or placing
a smithing tome in Padre’s library, were very close to offenses
committed by a band of earthen archons called watchers.
Scholar Ben had read the 7th and 8th chapter of first Enoch, and
had shared with Padre, that Archon Azazel had taught mankind
how to make swords, daggers, and shields. But it was Ben’s
opinion, that teaching earth humans, charms, and spells and
then fornicating with their women had been the sins that had
44
forced the Capital E Elohim’s vengeance. That and the archons

creating unsanctioned angel human hybrids, tainting
mankind’s genetics, had been the real evil that had been the
straw that had busted the camel’s back.
Ben remembered Padre’s scowl and exclamation, “Grosero!

That was what Jude meant, when he said that those angels had
left their first estate. Forsooth, Ben, I remember that now.”
Padre, the former knight, had also been given quests to rescue
the magnetic storm victims of the portals. Those victims, a
handful, per portal, per year, were stolen from earth, either by
the storm itself, or because of the psionic capture attack of the
Skookum. The gargoyle faced Skookum rarely killed those they
captured, unless attacked first.
After mind-speaking to the weak, dazed victims, in primitive

toddleresque vernacular, they warned the “hoo-mons” to stay
off their mountains. Their curiosity sated, the Skookum would
leave the confused humans laying on the bare sands of the
circle, to later wander into the dangerous lands of Corstevah.
Most of the Skookum were the large ape-like creatures. Many

clans of them were scattered around the Spines of the World
mountains on both sides of Corstevah. There were other
varieties. The non-standard Skookum clans were a minority.
The insanely chaotic jackal-heads were the most hostile and
killed humans and other Skookum wherever they found them.
The jackal-heads were often hunted down by other clans
because of their blood-thirsty predations. Jackal-head males
often traveled alone. The males returned, usually no more than
a few times per year, to their matriarchal clans only to breed.
Youngling males following their first decade were sent from the
village and told that if they survived, they could return for a few
days during the full moon.
The lion-head clans, snake-head clans, monster-head clans,

and boar-head clans respected the traditional truce of the circle
45
shrines but were not as likely as the standard ape-like

Skookum to remain neutral when meeting humans off the
Spine of the World mountain. Most of the humans on Corstevah
called the ape-like hominids Skookum. They called the
monster-head clans orcs, dracs, or ogres. The canine Skookum
were called dog men or Jackal-heads. Ben also referred to the
snake-head clans as ophidians.
Non-standard Skookum were distinctive in that they possessed

an ability unknown in their Paxi DNA cousins. The lion-head
clans, snake-head clans, ogre clans, dog-head clans, and boar-
head clans had a unique ability. They could detect the genetic
signature of humans, with a precision and range that bested
the olfactory capabilities of bruins and bloodhounds.
Common consensus was that the rarest infra-variety of

Skookum waxed and waned between the dog men clans and the
monster-head clans. The ogre Skookum, or monster heads, had
green, gray, or bluish-purple skins. Their heads were distorted
human faces, with tusks or fangs that gave them the
appearance of the orcs from fantasy games.
The unique trait of the Ogres was that they supplemented their
lack of vocabulary by using foul language, casting insults, and
using rude gestures. They could not have a wife unless they
defeated a Skookum of a different clan and presented the head
to their intended mate’s family. Only one clan of monster-heads
lived on either side of Corstevah. The same was true for the
Jackal-head clans.
Like the standard Skookum, the non-standard types were the

remnants of ancient DNA experimentation of Draconian
scientists.
Ben had mused that the standard Skookum were products of

genetic manipulation of Paxi DNA, utilizing embryo combining
techniques, rather than additions of new angelic genetic
material.
46
He had read in Jedd’s library, that the standard Skookum had

been developed first.
Additionally, before the meteor shower, the circle pylons

allowed teleportation between all circles, and wormhole travel
to earth. The meteor showers had destroyed that capability,
but magnetic distortions and solar flares in the future could
partially activate those shrines that physically survived the
destruction.
The shimmer skinned Draconians had possessed a time

travelling shuttle that looked nothing like the Nazi Die Glocke.
However, it worked on similar principles. The Draconians used
it to travel to future earth and steal small numbers of humans
to mix their DNA into their Paxi and non-standard Skookum
experiments.
Later experimentation had inserted fifty percent fallen angel

DNA into animal/human subjects and Draconian warriors to
create the non-standard Skookum chimeras. That was why the
second-generation Skookum were tougher, more resilient, and
more inclined towards evil than the Paxi based chimeras.
The Greater Paxi had always been a very docile species not given
to aggressive behaviors. The Greater Paxi were very
humanesque. Except for their faces, and the palms of their feet,
the Greater Paxi were quite hairy. Otherwise they looked much
like men of earth. Their bones were very dense yet flexible.
Greater Paxi averaged six feet tall, give or take a few inches, had
broad shoulders, and narrow waists. They had a mane of hair
around their heads and around their waists, although under
the waste hair, front and back, their skins were as bare as their
faces.
Their craniums and faces were larger than humans by about

twenty-five percent, but with narrow chins. Greater Paxi had
pencil thin eyebrows and possessed five digits on each hand
47
and foot. Their feet were long and sturdy, but wide and rounded
on the inside of each foot. Greater Paxi hands were hairy, up to
the bottoms of their fingers, and except for being a bit longer,
looked very much like that of modern earth humans.
Except that their inner body tissue, organs, bones and blood
were almost identical to humans, their body contained high
amounts of organic silver, which caused their hair, and
sometimes their skin, to exhibit light or dark blue sprinkles like
glitter under certain lighting conditions. Greater Paxi healed
quickly and were resistant to disease and bodily decay. They
often lived to fifteen hundred years.
They had almost photographic memories, especially for

languages. Greater Paxi were generally highly intelligent, good
natured and twice as strong as was normal for earth humans.
When wet, especially if they consumed large quantities of meat,
they exhibited a musky odor. Usually they ate meat rarely, and
instead consumed great amounts of raw and cooked fruits,
vegetables, and nuts.
Because the standard Skookum were genetically enhanced

versions of the Greater Paxi, they were not perfect, but better
than the others at following the neutrality traditions of the
Spine of the World mountains and the circle shrines. While a
human could reason with the standard Skookum, off their
mountains, and at the circle shrines, there was little reasoning
with the non-standard Skookum.
Another strange neutrality aspect to the social mores of the

Skookum had to do with juveniles of both the humans and the
Skookum clans. Except for the jackal heads, who found
children, even their own, a delicacy, the Skookum were very
protective of all toddlers. The standard Skookum had even been
known to care for children who they had found or captured
during the circle portal dimensional storms. They would
physically carry them to a human village, if one were available,
and leave them within sight of it or adopt them into their tribe.
48
The same was true if a child wandered over the “no hoo-mons
allowed” boundary, rather than being killed, they were
protected.
On rare occasions, off-spring was born as a result of

interbreeding between humans and the Skookum. However, the
mother would die before the child was born of complications
natural to bearing children too large for their wombs. The
Skookum were not smart enough to use cesarean birthing
techniques before the second trimester.
Another trait differentiation between the standard Skookum

and non-standard clans, had to do with differences in teeth and
fingers and toes. Polydactylism was a rare occurrence among
the standard Skookums. The other types of Skookum
universally possessed double rows of teeth, six fingers and six
toes. While the standard Skookum were immensely powerful,
the damage resistance and regenerative abilities of the non-
standard Skookum was even more pronounced.
Nombre, until after his promotion, had not journeyed to the

isolated forbidden zone of Eastern Corstevah. He had mostly
visited the ring circles of the western lands, that were not too
far from safety zones. Ben, even though not the veteran warrior
that Padre Nombre was, had visited all of western Corstevah’s
circles, running from or using his Far Travel gift to escape most
monster attacks.
At times one or two humans would be forcefully relocated by

the dimensional storms. At other times, waves of life, from tiny
insects, to herds of deer, elk, moose, wild pigs, cougars, bears,
wolves, birds, bats and every living animal would be stolen, in
one or two interdimensional electro-magnetic surges, in a miles
wide sweep from earth. Most of the time, the portals opened up
in North America, but occasionally portals opened up in South
America, Africa, Europe, the South Seas, and Asia.
49
While the storm would instantly relocate life from earth, the
secluded forests, or mountains where the event had occurred
would remain silent. Myriad sounds of insects, birds, and
animals, all vanished from their native environments. Silence
reigned in lands that normally provided an aurally stimulating
backwoods cacophony of natural background noises. Only
when the frightened and hushed survivors had calmed, or when
the migrating of wildlife from nearby earth lands came to
replace the missing, would the natural sounds reappear.
Ben had been tapped for such missions, to rescue the

interdimensional storm survivors. He had been sent if they
appeared in the circles of areas distant from the safety zones.
And those were quick missions, using his Far Travel gift. He
entered the circle and teleported out of harm’s way to an
established village. However, the lion’s share of such rescue
operations, were given to Nombre and guards from the villages
he happened to be training at the time.
Seconds later, following his memories of storm portal rescues,

Ben waited patiently, for the other hologram to address him. At
last the squeaky and rotund little man, dressed in dark brown
medieval earth robes, and wearing a tonsure, returned his
greeting. The portly man spun in his chair but did not rise. His
hazel eyes twinkled, and he exclaimed in his raspy voice,
“Greetings, Scholar Ben! I am happy to see you, too!”
When first introduced to the short round monk, the corpulent

little hologram had introduced himself to Ben as “your personal
scribe, Dominic the Zerox man.”
Ben had no idea, then, or later, that Archon Jedd, had

programmed the animation to look and sound like a future
earth actor, Jay Brazeau, who had played the role of Harlan, in
the Stargate series episode “Tinman.”
Thankfully, Jedd had not programmed the animation to provide

the famous and cheerful, yet oily greeting, “Comtrya!”
50
Ben remembered asking Dominic, “What, pray-tell, is a Zerox

man?”
Dominic had responded, “Why, my fine gentleman, I copy

things! One of your tasks is going to be to record both written
and audio presentations on the flora and fauna of Corstevah, to
add to our library. You will be training teachers in the villages,
so that the young children may grow, learning not only a trade,
but also to read and write and cipher. I have been assigned to
help you with that task.”
Dominic recorded Ben’s writings and drawings and using his

advanced technology audio player and small three-dimensional
printer, or book crafting machine, produced sound recordings,
books, manuscripts and small demonstration aids such as
tools, figurines, or miniature duplicates of plants or animals.
Ben concluded cheerfully, “You may rest now, dear friends, but
I will speak with you again when I require your services.” He
added, “Thank you both, Ovin and Dominic, I take my leave!”
During the first year of his residence at the castle he had not
been able to so quickly terminate their programming functions.
Following the dismissal of Tutor and Scribe, Ben strolled over

to his personal desk. He sat at the padded bench in front of it.
The hutch cabinet on top of the desk had quills, scrolls, and
papers.
Skillfully placed side by side were the communicator and a

polished gray and white speckled reading stone and a
voluminous hard-back book.
There were also two labeled shiny metal portmanteaus, like

attaché cases. One was open and the other closed. The closed
case was labeled “Universal Translator Pendants, baseline: 20 th
century American English.”
51
The interior of the open case contained a soft spongey gray

material, with an open cut-out section. Two other holo-stones,
that had not been removed from the padded unit, sat ready for
removal and utilization, when necessary.
Ben eyed the holo-stones and a favorite book of his

acquaintance from the Castle Jedd library. He opened the huge
armored-saurian-leather-bound book.
The front cover contained a spider-webbed dent, while the back

cover was marred by a charred spot about the size of Ben’s
hand. The tome was about twenty-one inches long and
approximately sixteen inches wide. Three inches thick, the left
pages contained illustrations and the right pages, an exotic
calligraphic large font script.
Smiling broadly, Bacharach gingerly fingered first the cover and

then the rough, lightly stained pages. Each sheet exuded a
palpable aura of antiquity. Its fragrance hinted of vanilla, a
stronger grassy, acidic tang, and old smoke, but combined in
an aroma that was pleasant, rather than musty.
“I know that I was taught that one was to handle antiquities as

little as possible, but I love the feel of these old books,” declared
Ben to himself, in a subdued murmur.
All the old scrolls and books, beneath the soft caress of his
fingers, spoke with a lover’s tenderness, a romance language of
braille bumps. Ben’s inquisitive digits. like those of the blind,
who knew how to interpret the cell structures, eagerly absorbed
each tale. Each tactile adventure expressed in fanciful bardic
sonnets, legends of wonders and mysteries. Each tome hinted
coyly of all the wisdom he would soon read by sight, that would
be hidden within its pages.
“My old director, in the Vatican Artifacts library, would have

screamed at me for such sacrilege,” he muttered.
52
Having spent so many centuries, with more alone time, than

social time, had left him with a tendency to talk to himself. Such
a habit was common for the old and lonely.
Ben carefully scanned the pages of slithery runes of the

prehistoric sentient Draconians from Corstevah’s first age. He
could identify a few words, symbols, and phrases of the
primeval language, but still needed the ancient technology
holographic reading stones to understand the text.
This had been one of Scholar Ben’s favorite finds from the
Castle Jedd library. Within the pages it contained the history of
the first age of Corstevah. There was a section, Ben
remembered, in the back of the book, not written in Draconian
or Paxi, that contained an addendum, that outlined the fall of
the first native races of Corstevah at the end of the rebellion of
the evil entity known as the Great Architect of Light.
Following an extinction level event, where a meteor shower had

bombarded Corstevah, most of its flora and fauna had perished.
After thousands of years, survivors, from isolated areas, where
the dust winters had not as efficiently choked, smothered,
starved, and stolen the warmth, life persevered. Slowly paradise
had returned and life on the stricken planet resumed and
flourished.
The formerly sentient Draconians, both a reptilian and

amphibious variety of shiny-skinned creatures, had become
beast-men, like Nebuchadnezzar. They had survived but unlike
that famous ancient Earth king, had never regained their
superlative intelligence that had surpassed that of modern
earthly humans.
The diminutive apish Paxi, native to Corstevah, were much like

the small hairy hominids from the Saturday morning fantasy
drama, “Land of the Lost.” They had suffered the same fate, as
had their larger cousins, the Greater Paxi. The genetically
enhanced Greater Paxi, designed as slaves and super-soldiers.
53
called Skookum had survived, but never gained more than a

degenerated level of their former intellectual capacities.
Draconians had also genetically experimented with their own
kind and created their own variety of reptilian Skookum as well.
In some ways the Skookum were smarter, then the descendents

of the Lesser Paxi, in that they had developed a technique for
crafting flint-tipped spears. The Lesser Paxi used only the
crudest bone or wooden clubs. The degenerate modern Lesser
Paxi of modern Corstevah, were plump, three to four feet tall,
easily frightened and quite odiferous.
Ben lifted one of the advanced technologies reading stones,

which fit nicely in the palm of his hand, rounded side up and
nestled under his long, tapered fingers. Finally, it hummed.
The relic, supposedly a technology native to the ancient Paxi,
began to operate. A vivid three-dimensional hologram appeared
in the air in front of him. As Ben scrolled the stone down the
page, a column of the Draconian text appeared before him. On
the left was a holographic script presentation. The mirrored
interpretation appeared on the right in his language of choice.
Ben chuckled and said, “Dominus providbit: The Lord will

provide.”
He sat the book and the holographic reading stone down on the
desk. Ben decided to leave the one stone on the desktop, but
closed the attaché case, locked it, and slid it back, out of the
way, beneath the overhang of the hutch. Next, he peeked out
the two small round windows at the tower’s top, and then
scurried down both sets of stairs, to the bottom. Like the other
windows of the tower, air could flow freely through them, but
insects and other creatures, human and not human, were
stopped by an invisible barrier.
Following his tour of his new library tower, Ben walked back to
the table where he had tossed the scroll of instructions. He
54
picked it up and uncurled the scroll that had been given to him
earlier by Archon Jedd.
Ben quickly scanned the bookshelves until he found a small

wooden bowl filled with clean flat stones about the size and
thickness of his thumb. Grabbing a few, he placed the open
scroll on the table. Next, he positioned the rocks to hold the
scroll open. After that, Ben stood back and hands in his
pockets, peered intently at the information.
Finally, satisfied that he understood the directions, Ben

paused, and mentally analyzed the information again. He then
consulted the material to see if he had it down.
Ben slid the stone anchors off the parchment. Its ivory colored
pages rolled back into place. Scanning the bookshelves, he
found one that contained several wooden scroll tubes. Pulling
out a scroll tube, he filled it, popped the cork stopper, and
carefully placed it inside his pack.
“Ahh,” stated the scholar, “I see the Universal Translator

Pendant that I am to deliver to Tyrel.” Ben rummaged further
through the contents of the backpack. He checked to see that
his compass, a bit of dried food, and a few sundry travel items
were in place. Fresh fruit, vegetables, clover and honeysuckles
were often easily available for quick snacks during quests.
Donning his pack, Ben strapped on his quiver, and strung his
bow. Last he grabbed his meteor-ore clad staff. Ben then exited
the tower. He latched the door behind him as he vacated the
premises.
55
56
CHAPTER 3:
SLEESTAKA PORTAL
“You are my hammer and weapon of war: with you I break

nations in pieces; with you I destroy kingdoms;”
Jeremiah 51:20
Ben’s first instruction, written on the scroll, besides the

suggestion to make a quick tour of his tower, had been to
translate, using the Far Travel Gift. His destination was the
stone circle, north of the Sleestaka plains.
That circle was north of the ruined ancient city that lay atop a
high, flat-topped tower of rocky mesa that overlooked the
Sleestaka flatlands. The dolman circle on the top of the butte
was broken and scattered amongst the rubble. The towering
butte face was inaccessible on all sides. Ben had used his Far
Travel gift, the first time, by natural sight alignment, rather
than memory or photo, to gain access to the broken pillars of
the central temple edifice. He had barely been able to see that
location, but it was the clearest landmark, and Ben had used
the gift and prayed. His prayer had been answered.
Two pterosaurs, screeching angrily, had dive bombed him as

soon as he had appeared. The flying, heck-tailed reptiles were
57
not happy about his presence near their rookery. The

rhamophorynchus pair, snouted beaks snapping, had decided
that the intruder would not leave alive. Ben bloodied his staff,
and finished the battle with a few scars, but he had lived and
had not died.
Not much remained of “The Lost City,” except great slabs of

strange architecture. The majestic caprock was a mile long, half
as wide oval, that contained the ruins of an ancient Draconian
city. Broken rectangular sprawls of rubble and jumbled
sections of circular and geodesic domes, interspersed with
pyramidal structures, surrounded a line of shattered uneven
ionic columns of a central raised temple. Except for the
pterosaurs that roosted atop the shrine, the complex was devoid
of life. It was all that remained of the former capital city of the
ancient reptilian Draconians.
The reptoid race had devolved into the shimmering humanoid

dinosaurian raptors and the aquatic side of their line had
become the shiny skinned water dragons.
Once brilliant, and more intelligent than humans, they were

less sentient now than the Skookum, using captured Greater
Paxi, they had created in their genetic labs as super-soldiers
and slaves. When their experiments, that had been designed
with angelic DNA, had died, their creation’s physical forms had
ceased to exist, but the evil spirit of each creation had lived on.
Ben sensed that disconcerting darkness whenever he had

visited “The Lost City.” He had a theory that those spirits, had
been called away as their descendants, the non-standard
Skookum, had begun to make idols of them, and worship those
ancestral entities.
As those descendants died themselves, their spirits, although

lesser in power and potency than the originals, were adding a
taint to the planet. An increasing darkness was building - a
darkness that would need to be cleansed. While humans from
58
earth, victims of the portal storms, brought demons, Corstevah,

because of the evil of those original Draconian scientists, had
its own demons.
Both Scholar Ben and Padre de Dios had asked Archons Jazz
and Jedd, about the issue. Their answer had been less than
revealing. In addition to the Skookum created by the
Draconians using Greater Paxi lab specimens, they had also
created reptilian super soldiers and slave beast-men, and
injected DNA strains of fallen angel material, adding more dark
shades to the mix.
Ben and Padre had been told that they both would have a piece
of the action. One day, they would mentor servants of the Most
High capital E Elohim, who were as of yet unborn. Those
servants would be natives of Corstevah, and the others,
indigenous to earth. The Most High Elohim, Ben and Padre had
been told, was mindful of the issue and was already
orchestrating the deliverance of PXE749559.
Ben pushed aside that memory and thought again about the
Sleestaka Circle. One of many such circle portals scattered
across Corstevah, it was south of the north western sea, and
west of the northern tip of the Iron Mountains. That portal ring
would be his first stop.
While Ben had visited the ruins of “The Lost City” several times,
it had a strange ambience that had been disconcerting. Not only
were there brooding spiritual forces, that hated servants of the
Most High, but there were natural irritations as well. The
raucous caws of the pterosaurs that roosted there was an
aggravating sound, like nails across chalkboard or tension bar
music.
The putrid smell of pterano-guano was a cloying annoyance in

the city’s central structure. Below the tall ramparts where the
beaked aerial flying lizards nested, was a bed of foul feces, the
old and dried covered by new and fresh deposits.
59
While these flying lizards were commonly called dinosaurs,

especially on modern earth, Scholar Ben was well aware that
technically, the carnivorous creatures, who occasionally ate
fruits, were not classified as dinosaurs, but as flying reptiles.
Pteranodons ate small animals, fish, eggs, and fruit, but the
larger ones were known to carry off children.
Only the monster specimens would attempt to carry off adults

or animals the size of a deer. The ancient books had a few
legends of thunderbirds and giant flying lizards, as well as
dragons, who were said to be able to pick up small ocean whales
and large dinosaurs.
The smell of their manure was hardly noticeable along the

overlook, though. The dark entities did not seem to linger at the
edge of the caprock but haunted the ruins of the temple and
some of the rooms in the depths of the subterranean labyrinth.
Ben had always endured the irritations -the smell of the flying
reptiles and their shrill caws - because each visit to the inner
streets or underbelly of “The Lost City” had rewarded his
curiosity.
“The Lost City” was a veritable archaeological treasure trove: a

pottery shard here, an old ruined book there. Carved figurines
lay concealed under piles of broken stone rubble or cracked
pillars. Strange ooparts from ceramic batteries to radio-tubes,
as well as engraved stones of dinosaurian animal husbandry,
and faded molding tapestries of Draconian societal events, were
hidden in the underground grottoes.
Upon exiting the yard of his new tower, following his far travel
prayer, Ben appeared in the portal circle. He gazed around the
thirty-yard circle of standing stones and prepared to invoke his
portal deliverance prayer.
60
As Ben had been doing for years, whenever he appeared in one

of the ringed pylons he had always stopped, held out his arms
and proclaimed, “Dira Necessitas! In the name of the Unique
Son, Yesu Christo, I claim this stone circle for the Most High.
In His Name, I command any dark elohim to vacate these
premises, statim! If there be any fallen archons present, may
Yesu Christo rebuke you! Go now to Hell or the airless tops of
the Spines of the Mountains, daemons, your choice! Cease your
malefic predications, forthwith!”
After leaving the pointy topped stone circle, Ben jogged up the
mountain trail in the direction indicated on the map.
One of the mysteries of the stone circles, that dotted the lands,
was that no vegetation grew inside the edifices. Animals, great
and small, refused to stay within its confines and skirted them
fearfully. Only the Skookum danced and sang within its circle.
A compass was useless inside the circle and spun like a top.
Before a fluctuation event, the needle would spin much faster
than usual. Unlike the flat tabletop structures of earthly
Stonehenge, the circles of stone on Corstevah were a ring of
pointy topped obelisks. Strange sounds, mysterious fogs, cool
drops in temperature and electrical discharges, as well as sonic
booms, were all too common within the otherworldly ringed
pylons. Quick squalls of rain and snowstorms, the precipitation
quickly vanishing in the tropical heat, appeared from time to
time during portal activations.
After pondering the mysteries of the circle portal that he had

just exited, Ben continued along the ascending trail. He was
entering the foothills that preceded the mountain path.
Huge mounds of boulders heaped like discarded toys, from a

giant’s toy box, lay in scattered piles along both sides of the
path, but not in a continuous line. A small stream trickled from
a spring on the hill, and laced a tiny blue ribbon, downhill.
Picking up speed, as it jutted away from the flat radial circle
that surrounded the rock structure, it continued its downward
61
journey. Continuing ahead, a flashy tinkle, it followed the

contours of a shallow ravine that banked laterally, so that it
trickled out into another hillock.
Ben thought again about his instructions, including the small

crude map that depicted a game trail that extended north of the
circle onto a mountain pass. Confident that he was following
the correct trail, Ben watched and listened warily, hoping to
avoid the wolves, bears, mountain lions, and occasional
dinosaurs that might interrupt his journey, wanting to make
him their next meal. He squeezed through a gap in the barrel
tree boundary that formed a barrier that skirted the edge of the
mountain forest as far as the eye could see.
Scholar Ben was grateful for his narrow hips and shoulders. He
knew that in the past, squeezing through some smaller barrel
tree gaps had been quite challenging for the broad shouldered,
six foot five, paunchy paladin, Nombre De Dios!
Ben mentally reminded himself that he should finish reading

the scroll. Since the other dates of importance were future
events, he surmised that he would have time later to finish that
task.
Benachmanides was well-versed in estimating times of day by

observing the positions of the sun.
He had found books in Jedd’s library that had allowed him to

ascertain that months on Corstevah were thirty days long and
followed a twelve-month cycle. Ben had lost his access to
Earth’s calendars, so he had decided to craft his own.
While Ben made larger calendars, too, that he tacked on walls,

to keep track of the days, he also made smaller versions. Those
he consulted as needed and kept in his pack, along with a
charcoal marking stick. Ben had had an extra calendar and
marking stick in his pocket, which he intended to present to
Tyrel and Stella as a gift.
62
Remembering the scroll instructions, Ben continued to scan the

trail, as he climbed the path that wound through the foothills.
The scholar knew from experience that while the mountains
were safer than the plains, the travel was always a travail. Every
mile as the crow flies was two to three miles of hiking. Once he
had visited a place, he usually could use the Far Travel gift and
translate to the location. When traveling somewhere new, as he
was today, Ben was forced to travel the old-fashioned way, by
walking or running.
Deciduous trees loomed above him. Bird calls rang

intermittently through the thick forest that shadowed the path.
The loamy smells of earth and the scents of barks and flowers
greeted him like old friends as he trudged upward along the
mountain path.
Rising over a hill, the scholar heard a rapid buzzing swiftly

approaching from behind. He spun adroitly, on the balls of his
feet, staff positioned to defend or attack. It was only a teal
dragon fly.
The anisoptera boasted a three-foot wingspan. The

Brobdingnagian bug sailed by him and skimmed over a small
pond, just off the road and to his right. The monster insect
swooped low and hungrily chased a cloud of midges, cutting a
bloody swath through the swarm, mandibles clicking rapidly.
Those few midges that had survived, zoomed away from the
pool’s mirrored surface, determined to live another day.
The dragonflies native to Corstevah were not only giants

compared to those he had seen on earth but lived for decades
before growing old. Most, however, became some beast’s lunch
long before that.
A speckled bobcat stopped lapping the water, and stared at him,

and the hovering dragonfly, balefully, as Ben sprinted past.
Following a momentary glare, from its devilish eyes, the forest
63
cat finished drinking the cool water, then launched itself at the
hovering dragon fly. The bobcat’s jaws clamped like a steel trap,
around the insect’s abdomen, and landed back into the pond.
Exiting the shallow pool, the feral cat, vigorously shook the
water from its fur, and exited the woodland pool. The lynx then
slunk off into the brush, desiring to devour its meal in private.
After an hour of intermittent fast-walking and sprinting, scholar

Ben was at last rewarded with the sighting of his second
landmark.
The fallen thirty-foot long birch tree, that was grounded on a

rocky hillside, was just ahead. Ben noticed that the trail split
here. One branch of the trail continued northwest. The other
dipped to the southeast.
Under the tree and in the rocks, he would find a concealed

tunnel, covered by a scrub elm thicket, that was barely large
enough for him to traverse.
The notes in his scroll had estimated that it would take him
roughly an hour at a fast trot, to traverse the trail from the rock
circle. He would, after that, eventually find the fallen tree that
obscured the tunnel opening.
That concealed opening would, after about forty minutes of

stooped travel, emerge into a beautiful hanging valley, that was
an especially safe zone.
No meat eaters lived in it, or so he had been told. Additionally,

the closest bandit clan or small village was at least several days
walk away from the concealed tunnel.
There, inside the hanging valley, he would find the gift-dwelling

of two new residents. They were soon to receive a special
invitation, just as he had, and his friend, the former Spanish
knight, Nombre de Dios. They had also been invited to relocate
64
from earth to planet Corstevah. Honored servants and guests,

of the Capital E Elohim.
Thinking about the new visitors from Earth that he would soon
meet, led to another memory. Ben recalled what had transpired
in his youth, while he had been working in the Vatican. An
event that had drastically altered his life. That event had
happened, what would be considered several normal life-times
past.
Benachmanides Bacharach, had been born to a well-to-do

family, that traveled occasionally between early nineteenth
century New York, and more often, a route that covered London,
France, and Rome, peddling art, and antiquities. His father had
been a Jewish merchant, with homes in London, France. and
colonial America. Ben’s mother had been a young, fiery, and
dramatic Italian socialite.
Back then, he had been a child prodigy with an interest in

ancient history, natural science, and religious artifacts, who
grew up in a Catholic family. Ben possessed a gift for quickly
learning languages. His social standing, and a family showing
of their wares near the Vatican, had brought him, as a youth,
to the attention of the Jesuits.
Following several years of attending one of their colleges, at a

very tender age, had led to his being offered a position in the
Vatican library. While many modern people scoff at the “false
news” of young and gifted students graduating from advanced
education in their early teens, they do not understand history.
Not that such events were common, but they are not myth and
legend.
Born July 27th, 1767, John Quincy Adams, for example, had
joined the early United States Diplomatic Corp, at the age of
fourteen. In 1781, John Quincy Adams accompanied diplomat
65
Francis Dana to Russia, and served as his secretary and

translator.
Much in the same way, Ben, not only because of his scholarly
gifts, but because of parental wealth and influence, and Divine
intervention, had at an incredibly young age been offered a
prestigious vocational assignment at the Vatican.
That initial Vatican assignment, in turn, led one day to Ben

being placed, following an internal promotion, into a position
outside the public library. This library was considered outside
the public domain. It was used by the rare visitor, or select men
attached to the Vatican staff.
The Reliquary and Ancient Artifacts Library, which contained

more than books and scrolls, was a closely guarded secret.
Those who studied there, only entered with special passes. They
were discouraged from sharing their visits or the information
contained within the sub-basement vaults.
What Ben had found secreted within its walls had turned his
life upside down. The knowledge had destroyed the paradigms
that had governed his general religious beliefs and gutted his
former training in the natural sciences as well.
Benachmanides was one of the rare scientific minds that

wanted the truth wherever it led. Most scholars he knew
claimed that propensity but were as dogmatic and unteachable
as many who manned a pulpit. Ben was not one to follow the
party line, when it came to new revelation, whether it was within
the realm of either science or religion.
While Ben was not by nature dogmatic or fiery, he was not

afraid to disagree with entrenched doctrine or opinion. His
curiosity also compelled him to search for answers, that to him,
necessitated solutions. His superiors, however, were not
amused by his esoteric delvings. Frankly, they had considered
them taboo. Ben had attempted to be discreet and had gained
66
access to lower levels of the vaults. Alas, Benachmanides’ illegal

and forbidden investigations had not gone unnoticed.
The Vatican Secret Service, at the time of his tenure, was still a
neonate organization. One day that agency, in its influence and
professional capability, would rival that of other sovereign
countries intelligence agencies, including that of the
contemporary Central Intelligence Agency of the United States.
While fearfully contemplating the end of his life in a cell block,

one whose existence was not even “officially” recognized by the
Vatican Gendarmerie Corps, Ben awaited his execution. He was
still wearing the soiled clerical gown and slacks ensemble that
he had been wearing three days ago, when he had been
unceremoniously dumped into the cell.
Only wan light from torches in the hallway flickered into the
bare cell. Ben was sitting, despondent, arms folded around his
knees, on an old rug.
He had been praying, his mind muddled, by fear and pain.

Drugs that had been injected into his body by his captors,
dulled his mind, producing a mental fog. Ben mumbled to
himself, “My thoughts are fractured, my energy spent.”
Suddenly, to his amazement, an undeniably impossible event

had transpired before his eyes. Momentarily Ben had doubted
his own sanity. The gloomy darkness of his solitary
confinement, in the dimly lit holding cell of the subterranean
Vatican chamber, had been suddenly and forcefully dispelled.
An intense light, that had blinded him, chased away the

shadows that had poisoned his mind like toxic apparitions.
Two glowing beings had appeared, standing tall and majestic

above him. The light was so intense, and their presence so awe
inspiring, that he had quickly turned away. To his shock and
wonder, they had appeared inside of his locked cell, without
67
using the impenetrable barred door that held him in solitary

confinement. For three days Ben had been incarcerated in an
ancient chamber, located several floors below Vatican City.
One of the secrets Ben had discovered, while librarian of the

Relics rooms, was that many Catholic churches had been built,
around the world, over access routes into a vast labyrinth.
These secreted entries provided ingress to extensive
underground caverns.
The underground grottoes were illuminated in many places with

Zero Point Modules. According to a book he had read in the
confidential archives, they provided light for thousands of
years.
Other evidences of an advanced antediluvian race were also

extant in the vast caverns. The existence of those entities,
human or not, was known by a few, in many countries, but
relegated to an Above Top-Secret rating, under the auspices of
each sovereign nation’s National Security division.
One of the beings, who had miraculously appeared, was a broad

shouldered and muscular fellow of seven feet in height.
Sporting a blond van dyke beard and golden hair that swept
back, revealing chiseled handsome features, the entity
exclaimed, “Do not be afraid, Benachmanides Bacharach, we
are servants of the Most High. We have come to you with an
offer you cannot refuse…”
“Actually, Ben,” interjected the other, another being just as tall,

but with an olive complexion, “you have a free will, and you
have every right to disregard our offer.”
“Do you wish to live, son of Adam?” asked the first small e
elohim. He added, “Or shall your line, of House Moses ben
Nahman, and that of your father, Jacob Bacharach, come to its
end this sad day?”
68
Ben replied hesitantly, “I take it you are divine beings.”
“Yes, I am known as Jazzaziel. You may call me Jazz.”

The other intoned, “I am Archon Jeddiduquah. You may call me
Jedd.”
Jazz added, “I realize that this is rather sudden and very

disconcerting for you, but the Vatican Intelligence operatives
are on their way, even as we speak. Do you wish to come with
us and live, Ben, or stay and die at their hands? The choice is
yours.”
“I would prefer not… to die,” answered Ben. “I have been alone

here for three days. Except for when I would be dragged from
my cell and interrogated. Or when the guard would bring a
morsel of stale food and take my night-soils bucket.”
The glowing being who had called himself Jazz replied, “Actually
you were not alone. Your guardian angel, although he always
stays in invisibility mode, has not left your side.
“It was his call for assistance, and being alerted to his distress
call, by The Most High, that brought us. The Dark Kingdom
forces are extraordinarily strong down here in the catacombs
and it has taken us three days to fight our way, to you,
Benachmanides Bacharach.”
“Indubitably,” mumbled Ben through swollen broken lips that

stank of old blood.
Jedd added, “One more revelation, before you decide, Ben. You
will never be able to return, and the Vatican will send a letter of
apology to your parents, informing them that you have died
under mysterious circumstances, and that your body was never
recovered.
“If you agree to come with us, Ben, not only will we take you to
a place that is not earth, but we are taking you several centuries
69
into the past, as well, and you will never return to this planet
or your family.”
“What choice do I have?” stated Ben, resisting his fear and

wonder, which made it difficult for him to speak in their
presence. “What does one man do when faced with such brutal
hypocritical mystics, with souls blacker than the garb they
wear, ready to viciously abscond with your life’s essence, all
with unholy joy and extreme prejudice?” Fighting the pain and
the mental angst caused by the drugs, Ben whimpered, and
choked back a fresh font of bitter, salty tears. Throat stinging,
his voice raspy, Ben fought his urge to ramble.
“You always have a choice,” offered Jazz. He asked pointedly,

“Which choice do you make?”
Jedd asked, “Will you come with us?”
“Indubitably.”
The archons gently clasped their hands under Ben’s arms and
lifted his stiff wounded body from the floor.
The tall, thin man of Jewish and Italian ancestry, nodded and
mumbled, “Deus gratia ago tibi; thank you God.”
Finished reliving the memory, several centuries later, the

scholar said once again, “Deus gratia ago tibi; thank you God.”
He shook his head and chuckled, “O folly, fudge, and

flumadidle! That happened several hundred years ago.
“I have arrived, but I need to pick up the pace. That concealed

tunnel into the next valley is around here somewhere! I am
supposed to be there to meet Tyrel and Stella! And I may be
running late!”
70
The scholar yawned twice and breathed in the invigorating air.

The oxygen mix of the atmosphere was different than earth. Not
only was it clean and pure, but not of the same nature as that
of earth’s environment.
He knew that some of its elements would have been considered

caustic on earth, yet the chemical composition of the air and
the nutrient rich plant life combined in an effect which gave the
body extreme energy and abundant health.
Ben gazed again at the fallen birch tree. It lay at an angle, up

the hill, snaked across a pile of gray phyllite boulders, that
comprised an elevated section of natural mounded berm. A
colony of moral tapinella, like flat, scalloped seashells, clustered
in tan groupings along the shaded north side of the tree.
Three to seven-foot thickets of thick, reedy, scrub elm grew

densely around and obscured the peeling white barked tree. The
bunches grew less abundantly, farther up the hill, and on the
northern side of the fallen thin-leaved deciduous hardwood tree
of the genus Betula family. Stands of alders, hazels,
hornbeams, and beech oaks, stood, tall, and aloof amongst the
predominate groves of white birch.
Stooping and stepping under, the top of the fallen birch, his
staff caught in a branch. Backing away to the side, and avoiding
that branch, another snagged at his quiver, but with a bit more
care he eased underneath it.
Following a short search through the scrub elms, Ben at last

found the concealed tunnel, that led to the secreted hanging
valley, where he would meet new friends, Tyrel, and Stella.
71
72
CHAPTER 4:
PADRE’S CHAPEL COMPOUND
Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for war,

and my fingers for battle; Psalm 144:1 KJV 1611
“Most have been forgotten. Most deserve to be forgotten.

The heroes will always be remembered. The best. The
best and the worst. And a few who were a bit of both.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Feast for Crows
Padre had used the castle teleport hundreds of times before

losing count. The journey, although instantaneous, usually
seemed to take forever. There was a freefall feeling that sent the
butterflies in his stomach madly darting hither and yon and a
chill that numbed one to the bone. Yet, upon arriving, the chill
and the sense of falling were merely memories. His first few
times his goatee had been frosted, but never again after that.
This time was different. Not in the sense of the freefalling with
its commensurate anxiety or the coldness of the in-between, but
in that Nombre remembered a rush of old memories. Much like
the last-moment-of-life memories, flushed rushes of
imagination, remembered by the hanged man in the short story,
"An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge." Except, that Padre’s
73
story did not end with a fantasy escape suddenly stopped by

the reality of an inescapable short drop and tightening of the
noose.
Nombre, although he was several hundred years old, and had

experienced much, both on earth and on planet PXE749559,
had never met Ambrose Bierce, or read the short story written
by the American writer and Civil War veteran from the year
1890. Nombre’s memories flooded his mind, mostly the many
fears that he had been forced to conquer each time, as he had
prepared for battle.
During battle, fear had never been an option. His quick mind
assessed the minute differences of each melee. Then, as the
adrenaline would flood his body, the memory muscle of hours
of sword and mace drills and many tours of combat, would
simply react, doing whatever needed done. Early on, the
memories of blood, twisted bodies and dead dirty faces, lips
warped into horrid grimaces, had haunted his dreams, but now
they were just old sighs, followed by a roll over, and back to
sleep.
Presently, Padre’s waking moments were not pestered by

memories of fear and blood, but regret for the lives, especially
human, that he had been forced to take. “Sicut umbra
transeunt – as the shadow pass the days,” mumbled Padre to
himself, remembering an old Templar saying.
Just then the stillness hit, like a calm before the storm, and he
flexed his knees.
Padre appeared in the center of a round tiki hut. The room

contained a large cross and a small table with books. He spun
in place, quickly cataloguing a series of images. Here and there,
his mind earmarked a sight or sound or smell, like when he
investigated a crime scene or tracks on a path.
74
Nombre knew that he had appeared in a high clearing nestled

in the mountains. They were not the brown shades of the Iron
Mountains, but blue gray. He could see, far to the north, the
white-tipped, Spines of the World, peaks. Just to his left, and
within the compound, was a small, two-towered castle, with a
moat. The stream that flowed through it, disappeared over the
edge of the mountain vale. He could hear the crash of its waters
as it descended forcefully bouncing over rocks sounding like an
intense kettle drum solo. Padre could see an overlook at the
edge of the mountain. Beyond it, at least a few hours walk,
maybe several, was a ringed pylon, covered in swirling mists.
Aye, it must be about to activate, he mused. While the foothill it

rested upon was fairly bare, there was a stream and boulder
field behind it. The dense forest layer that surrounded the
mountain chain swirled out around the cone-pillared stone
circle and then ended. Far in the distance, at a range that
extended beyond clear vision, it looked as if the land suddenly
dropped into a great valley.
Padre glanced back over his shoulder. Puzzled, he saw a fort,

but with a lock outside the gate. There was a sign on the fort
which read “Fort Wallace, Trading Post and Medical Clinic.”
He scanned the area to his right side. Just passed the tiki hut,
was a pavilion with benches and tables and a small open area
with basins around a pumpjack housed in an open laundry
facility.
Passed that area, about twenty yards, was a long hut, such as
Padre seemed to remember hearing, was of the kind used by
some American and European native peoples. Around the long
hut were also several bound upright tipi poles, but without
skins.
Padre jolted to a stop as his eyes focused on a cemetery. There

was an open grave and a stately coffin sat across from a mound
of dirt and two shovels. Forsooth, someone must die today,
75
thought Nombre. Whose grave lies yonder? There was also a

small building that resembled a mausoleum, but the sign read,
“Sexton’s Shed and Transporter Room to Tree Platform and
Funeral Pyre Burial Site.”
Voices called to him from straight ahead, which Padre guessed

was east, from what appeared to be a training camp, with
barracks, and a blacksmithing area. It looked like the one used
by his father, who had been a farrier for a large mercenary band
on earth during the twelfth century.
In the training area, with its stands of weapons, practice

dummies, and archery target displays, were two tall tents. A
smile lit Padre Nombre’s face.
His face was broad and tanned, looking very distinctly Spanish.
One day he would rescue a young man, kidnapped and brought
to Corstevah, from 21st century earth, who would say Padre
looked like the spitting image, except taller and larger, of the
actor Sean Connery when he played the role of Juan Sánchez-
Villalobos Ramírez in the movie “Highlander.”
Padre’s dark hair, which only a short time before, had been
streaked with gray, was now a rich, full wavy blue-black, with
a short pony, wound with a leather thong. Gone as well was the
silver in his goatee.
Nombre stood six-five, was broad shouldered, but with a slight

paunch, and wide, strong, muscular hips. Upon meeting the
former Templar, a few thought him to be a bit chubby. Yes, he
had a moon face and fat layer, but it covered a very muscular
and fit body. One of his beautiful former consorts, from planet
earth, from centuries past, had laughed, upon hugging him,
and accused him of being muscled like a bear. While Padre had
not had time to check his mirror, he could tell by the lack of
wrinkles and age blemishes on his hands, that those evident
signs of aging had disappeared.
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His dark brown eyes effortlessly glinted with merriment but

could just as easily freeze an irritating person with a glare.
Padre possessed a long strong nose and chiseled chin.
There was a sword cut scar on his forehead, the tear from a
chain mace along his cheek, and a jagged dagger welt under his
neck, but Padre had always been considered a handsome man.
Before he had decided to be a priest, he had known women, but

felt that his life was too filled with danger, and a wife or
girlfriend, too tempting a target for revenge or blackmail. And
his life of constant travel as a mercenary would be indeed, a
travail, not conducive to long term relationships.
Nombre de Dios, offered a quick, “Hola,” as he waved to Sir

Reginald Winthrop. Winthrop was dressed in steel, from helm
to pointy steel studded leather sabatons. He nodded as well to
Arthos d’Artigan. Arthos, attired with the classic plumed hat
and caped uniform of a Dumas 17th century musketeer, doffed
his hat, and bowed slightly. The French Musketeer’s feather
wriggled in the breeze as he cupped his cap in his right hand
by its rim and grinned at Padre.
Padre knew that they were only holographic representations,

but they appeared so human he often forgot, and treated them
as friends. Yes, like scholar’s two mobile advanced technology
holograms, they could glitch in presentation or their voices
would dim occasionally. However, just like real friends had their
quirks of personality, so too Winthrop and Arthos had their
aberrations.
“Glad to see thee, too,” remarked Sir Reginald, “but alas, we

have no time for pleasantries, Padre Nombre.”
Padre could easily read Winthrop’s anxious body language and

terse frown. He could also see that Winthrop and Arthos had
readied his mace, sword, staff, and crossbow, as well as his
weapon harness and had placed them on the practice yard
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table. So too, they had readied his chain and leather ensemble,
helm, and shield.
“You look tense, Sir Reginald, “and forsooth, I see that you have
my traveling arms and armor at the ready.”
“Aye, Archon Jazz was here of course when they put together
your gift-dwelling last night. He said that when you arrived it
was imperative that we help you gear-up. Jazz also said that
time was of essence. Yon circle of pylon cones is activating as
we speak. This one is not normal. It is a sweep storm that is
coming.”
“Aye, how long until it triggers?”
“The archon did not say, Padre. Just that it would happen very
rapidly. You will not have time to walk there. We are to gear
you up quickly. And you must use your new Far Travel Gift to
go there.”
Arthos stepped forward briskly, “Merveilleux, Padre, I can see

that the Far Travel Gift is not the only gift the Lord Most High
bestowed upon you, this day! You look thirty anniversaries old,
if a day, ami!”
Arthos handed Padre his leather armor and, after Padre donned
it, he tightened the straps.
“Gracias, d’Artigan, my amigo,” whispered Padre Nombre de

Dios, excommunicated Templar knight, unsanctioned padre,
paladin and newly commissioned Knight Warden of Eastern
Corstevah, in the service of the Capital E Elohim.
Next, Arthos passed a light chainmail chest armor to Padre,

which he tugged over the leather hauberk.
Sir Reginald added, “One more announcement from the Archon.

Until thee finish with this mission, we cannot discuss the
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matter. So, please, no questions, Padre Nombre. I will inform

you later. Do not forget to ask me about the Seser tech device.
“The monsters here, or so Jazz mentioned, tend to be larger and

more virulent than those on the West side of Corstevah. He said
that thine weapon arsenal, formidable enough already, as I see
it, is about to be increased.”
Padre grunted and nodded to Winthrop as Arthos fastened the

metal and leather weapons harness over his back and chest.
“Did Jazz say anything about the battle I am about to face now?
Forsooth, is it a rescue mission?”
“Aye,” remarked Sir Winthrop. He added, “Simple the mission

shall not be. The archon said thee would need to use both a
binding prayer and the meteor-ore weapons today.
“The bigger monsters roam the old volcano basin below the
plateau top, so I doubt the normal monsters will be anything
thee cannot handle. Archon Jazz said that thee will be escorting
several people back here today, not just the usual one or at
most, two. Thee will need to prepare a place on thine newly
gifted compound for them. Aye, I almost forgot, the fort is
reserved and is to remain locked. The guest who is to be given
the key, is still on earth and has not passed through the portal.”
Padre grabbed his sturdy leather boots from the table and
exchanged them for his formal shoes. Arthos passed a steel
staff to Padre which he dropped into a harness ring on his left
shoulder.
Next, he accepted a cross bow and quiver of bolts, and dropped

them onto hooks over his right shoulder. Arthos handed him a
belt pack with small pouches that contained a few
miscellaneous supplies such as a first-aid kit, clasp knife, small
rope, and some dried food.
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Last, Padre inserted a round meteor-ore mace over his left hip
into its ring, followed by his meteor ore katana, which he
inserted into the scabbard of his right-side weapons harness.
Lightening crashed in the distance, startling Padre. He was

always a bit on edge before a battle. Gazing out over the
overlook at the ring of stone cones, he was amazed. Lightening
crashed and thunder boomed.
That was not what had stunned him. He had seen rings activate
many times. Huge quantities of snow appeared in a blizzard
that surrounded the thirty-yard edifice. Such a great quantity
of snow was being dumped that even the tropical temperatures
of Corstevah could not instantly vaporize the onslaught.
Next pandemonium erupted as several bears, wolves, caribou,

elk, and deer and a bull moose appeared within the confines of
the circle. They had ignored each other and stumbled fearfully
from the stone ring as fast as possible. Other small blurs that
he could not identify raced, like frightened drunks from the
stone ring, scattering in all directions.
A pack of twelve wolves, the alpha male about the size of a sleek
quarter-horse, small according to Corstevah’s standards,
charged across the small stream and into the disoriented
beasts. One of them bumped into an old silver-tip grizzly. It
drunkenly swatted two of the wolves, leaving them stunned and
bleeding. Three more wolves left their prey to attack the old
grizzly. While it was distracted by other wolves, the alpha male
darted in and ripped out its throat. The other wolves dispatched
a deer, three elk and a caribou.
Padre squinted at the grisly scene, shook his head, and then
muttered his favorite life-verse from the KJV. Scholar Ben had
given him an English 1611 Bible as a gift not long after they
had met. Even though Padre had first memorized the verse, in
Spanish, as a young man, he had often quoted it from his gift
80
Bible. “Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my

hands to warre, and my fingers to fight.” Psalm 144:1, KJV.
He crossed himself – old habits die hard – as the archons had

taught them to honor, but not worship Mary, the mother of Jesu
Christo. Padre Nombre prayed to be taken to the circle-stone
edifice.
Nombre appeared in the center of the ring, just as another wave

of fleeing animals came through the portal. Dozens more deer,
elk, bears and several wolves and a few catamounts, came
tumbling through, as well as a honey-badger, a beaver family,
mink, otter, and a yak bull, and a few cows, and several brown
and snowy owls. He was bowled over by the yak, barely avoiding
the hooves of a heifer, beside and a bit behind the first, by
rolling. He fell in front of a male black bear who leaped over
him, then staggered, before tottering out of the circle.
Another pack of wolves, loping in from the south, begin milling

on the opposite side of the ring. So, there were now two wolf
packs around the circle portal. While the alpha male of pack
one was fit but aging, the alpha male of pack two was young,
just having won the right to lead his pack recently. His uncle
was still part of the pack, but retired, and presently sharing a
deer with three juveniles.
Like most wolf packs, the idea of alpha males and females, was
more a manner to designate the leaders. Most wolf packs in
Corstevah, like those on earth, were created by the lead male
and female producing offspring.
Occasionally a stray wolf might be allowed to socialize with the

rest of the pack, and then it would be tested to see if it would
submit to the dominance of the leaders. If it did not, it would
either be killed or injured and chased away from the pack.
The new earth-sized wolves that were recently arrived through

the portal eruption, those that survived the dangerous
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environment, when a male and female would meet, would start

their own pack. They were exceedingly small compared to the
wolves of Corstevah and would most likely find a way through
the barrel tree barrier and into the Smoke Mountains, where
the larger predators did not travel.
A wolf from pack one snapped at the honey-badger, but it

tumbled under the Shetland sized he-wolf, latched onto its
phallus, and hung on like a bronco rider, until the wolf,
screaming like a banshee, rushed away from the group. The
large wolf circled and rolled and attempted to bite the honey-
badger but was unsuccessful. Venting a horrid scream, it
rushed off towards the nearby copse of trees. Near the woods,
the honey-badger dismembered the wolf, then dropped from the
wolf, onto the emerald sward and rushed into the nearby woods.
The pony-sized wolf, yelping and howling shrilly, fell into a heap
and bled to death, not long afterwards.
Nombre de Dios grabbed the mace that had fallen from his
hand. He also picked up his green scaly leather helmet that had
rolled off his head and replaced it. The helm he had crafted from
the head of a shiny amphibious saurian creature that had
lunged out of a deep pond to attack him. He had skewered it
with his katana as it had dived down upon him twelve years
past. His instinct for danger had kicked in, and he had pulled
out the sword, before nearing the pond. If he had not done so,
the paladin had often mused, he may have lost that battle.
A translucent jade, sail-back dorsal fin, ran the length of the

helm. Spikes that had covered the helm were bright crimson,
neon green, and fiery orange. Some spines were knobby and
others spiky. He had also dropped the steel reinforced turtle
shell shield that he had grabbed from the practice yard table,
just prior to Far Traveling to the circle sphere.
Just as before, the fleeing animals had drunkenly exited the

circle, as if running from a forest fire, braying, growling,
grunting, snarling, bugling, or snorting. Wolves from pack one,
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circled near the north end of the ringed edifice. Avoiding the
wolves of pack one, the lately arrived pack two wolves circled
near the south and east of the shrine, not entering it. They
chased down and killed several of the second group of
transported animals.
Padre knew from experience that it was highly unlikely for any
of the animals, including the circling wolves of Corstevah, to
enter the inside of the circle.
Many of the surviving animals had ran or flown to the trees of

the forest that swung near the circle edifice but ended not too
far passed the river. Animals were afraid of staying within the
sands of the shrine. Snow, quickly melting, covered the sandy
interior of the coned stone ring, pooling briefly before sinking
into the bone white sands. He was not sure whether it was
merely instinct that kept the wolves at bay or the droning of the
pylons.
He and Scholar Ben had discussed the stone circles, and while
they understood some of their nuances, much of the
technological aspects were still a mystery. Scholar had read
that the Draconians had developed their own teleportals,
utilizing a different branch of technology, but neither he nor the
scholar had seen one of those teleport systems designed by the
reptilian sentient species. And both of those systems were
entirely different than the teleports that connected Jazz and
Jedd Castles.
Padre and Scholar Ben knew that originally, the ring portals, a
sentient Paxi invention, had functioned as teleport devices.
While teleportation to earth was possible, small mobile devices
interacted with the pylons and allowed fast travel between any
circle in Corstevah. Following the meteor storm at the end of
the first age, many of the portals had been destroyed, but those
still operating were not functioning correctly, and only opened
temporary wormholes to earth.
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The technology was a combination of magnetic fields and

sound. Every stone cone was affected by the planet’s magnetic
field and had a pattern of geometric shapes on each cone that
changed whenever the magnetism fluctuated. Both the pattern
and the sound would change depending on whether it was
quietly humming or vibrating at a higher pitch just prior to
erupting. Padre had never heard the intense whine that was
almost louder than the thunder and lightning blizzard that was
assailing his senses.
Once again, the portal spit forth another group of animals, only
a few bears and wolves from earth, but several dozen mixes of
moose, deer, elk, and caribou, that drunkenly raced in all
directions from the stone circle.
Padre was not knocked over this time. He peered around the
inner circle of the ring, but also extended his vision beyond, at
the exterior where the two packs of wolves patrolled, pack one
to the north and pack two to the south and east of the edifice.
While the two wolf packs warily tolerated each other, as they
ate their kills, on opposite sides of the thirty-yard circle of stone
cones, another predator was splashing noisily through the
stream east of the thirty-yard cone circle. The female alpha
from pack two suddenly and shrilly barked a warning. Wolves
from both packs, startled, looked up from their feeding.
Padre assumed that the stream that fell into the rocks below
the overlook of his new compound was the source of this river.
Nestled at the bottom of the mountain, it formed a small pond
that hugged the row of barrel trees that formed a tight perimeter
across the mixed conifer and deciduous forest line that curved
gently around and ended on the shores of the eastern river and
boulder escarpment. Beyond it was a great plain, and plateau
over a volcanic valley that stretched for hundreds of miles to an
inland sea.
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Nombre de Dios took notice of the new threat that was crossing
the river, ambulating around huge round boulders, towards the
stone cone circle. A large lizard, almost five feet tall, forked
tongue constantly flicking out of its mouth, exited the stream.
The squatting reptile lumbered slowly forward. Both wolf packs
spun to face the threat, howling, and growling towards the east.
The noticeably young and the old wolves, ran further back, and
began eating again. As the lizard came closer, Padre could tell
that it was aiming towards a bull elk, east and south of the ring,
that three of pack two’s wolves had downed and disemboweled.
Padre shook his head, sighed and exclaimed, “A fronte

praecipitium a tergo lupi! A precipice in front, wolves behind.
Forsooth, talk about being between a rock and a hard place!”
The thirty-three-foot-long lizard, with rough dull brown leathery

skin, lumbered, undulating as it advanced. It seemed to pay no
mind to the wolves but was fixated on the disemboweled elk. It
was then that Padre discerned that the huge lizard, like a
Komodo dragon, but much larger, looked incredibly old. Its
pebbly skin was a mass of scar tissue and one rear leg was
dragging, more than supporting its weight. A jagged scar ran
diagonally across a large as a dinner plate eye that was milky
white.
At last, ignoring the snarling of the three feeding wolves of pack

two, it bulled forward, forcing its bulk, deliberately yet
awkwardly, over the elk. The lizard quickly began biting huge
gulps of flesh from the prone elk, swallowing the bloody meat
whole. One of the wolves snapped at its face near the lizard’s
healthy green and red, slit pupiled eye.
Bedlam erupted but was short-lived. The lizard snapped back,

biting the female Canus lupis, its backward facing razor-sharp
teeth crushing and shredding her head. The giant lizard shook
the small young female in its mouth and tossed its torso aside.
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One bark from the male alpha of pack one, to the north, held
his wolves in place. Pack two, at the south eastern end of the
circle portal, alerted by their alpha male’s signal bark, did the
opposite. Pack two bolted into action, circled the lizard, and
quickly cataloged its weaknesses. The tail of the lizard whipped
and busted bones in three of the attacking wolves, but the
coordinated feinting attacks of pack two were ultimately
victorious. The lizard collapsed as its atrophied leg gave way,
exposing it to the deadly vengeance attack.
Just then another group of animals burst through the portal.
However, this time humans begin appearing amidst the chaos
of hooves and claws that rushed drunkenly out of the circle.
The humans seemed to be affected more severely than usual.
Padre had met many individual people over the years, in the
circles, and they were often a bit disoriented, nauseous, and
groggy, but so far, every human that appeared had fallen in the
melting snow. Nor did they seem able to stand up.
First, several men and women appeared. They wore mostly furs
and had dark coppery skin. He had rescued their kind before,
in Western Corstevah. He could understand them because he
wore the ancient technology universal language translation
device. Some of them, who referred to themselves as First
Nation people, and identified with specific tribal varieties, were
decent folk, others were not to be trusted, and would kill you as
soon as look at you.
Next, several women appeared. Some of them wore a

combination of pants and blouses, and woolens under long
dresses, others were dressed in furs and appeared to be of
mixed race. Unless he missed his guess, they were Native
Americans mixed with a European stock of some type.
Then a clean shaven, short haired blond man, wearing a red

uniform, one that Padre had never seen before, fell awkwardly
86
to his knees, off a sorrel, three stocking mustang stallion. The

horse neighed, foaming at the mouth, then bolted, out of the
circle, and was immediately jumped by three wolves, from pack
one. It bucked and swirled and kicked, although groggily. Two
wolves flanked and hamstrung it. The other wolf jumped onto
its back and bore the horse to the ground. The feisty chestnut
mustang neighed shrilly before a wolf bit into its neck.
Padre watched curiously as the man in the odd red uniform

with black trim, lost his hat, a strange round rimmed variety,
and fell to his knees into a drift of snow. The man barfed a pile
of steaming brown vomit and was bowled over by a cougar that
snarled once, but fled the circle, snapped at a wolf, and
continued off into the plains.
Next a man dressed in furs, hobbling on a makeshift crutch,

appeared and instantly fell on his back, breathing with
difficulty. Beside him was a tall boy. Padre estimated that the
boy’s age was ten to twelve years old. The first thing Padre
noticed about the boy, was that his eyes were deep black, and
burned with a fiery intensity. The second thing Padre noticed
was that the boy had a powerful presence about him, for one so
young.
The lad stopped to pull off his father’s pack and placed it under
his head like a pillow. He then dropped his own onto the
ground, and reached for his bow, but hesitated and clutched
his spear tightly.
The former Templar, an excellent judge of character, surmised

that the lad would grow up into a man of honesty and integrity.
All the same, the lad would become a dangerous man, but only
to those foolish enough to harm him or those he considered
friends and family. The young native wobbled once, but grasped
his spear, firmly in large hands, larger than would seem normal
for a young boy, and whispered “Father, I am here.”
87
Aye, that is a Scottish trapper and trader, thought Padre, unless

I miss my guess. I have helped a few of them. Usually decent,
industrious folk.
The boy stepped over his father. His long feet were quite nimble.
The boy frowned. His father’s woolen cap had fallen off and his
only response had been a low moan.
Just as suddenly, two Native American toddlers came tumbling

into the circle at the lad’s feet. One was a boy-child and the
other a girl, a year or two younger. They tried to get up and run
but immediately fell. Both were crying, snot dribbling from their
tiny brown noses. The little boy wiped his face on the arm of his
fur jacket, then hugged his gasping, wailing sister. The boy
child looked up warily at the young lad with the spear. The
young lad scowled at the children, but then his countenance,
except for his dazzling eyes, calmed.
Padre noticed the spear-toting lad give him a measuring look,

then turned his back upon Padre Nombre, and scanned the
circle. The lad determinedly guarded both his father and the
two whining Kaska toddlers. Padre noticed then that the lad,
sporting an unruly mass of shoulder length dark brown hair,
was large-eared, with huge hands and long feet. The lad carried
a pack and a short bow with a quiver of arrows.
The droning of the rings began to quiet and following one last
sonic boom, the blizzard ended. Slowly the stone’s patterns
began to fade into a different, dimmer pattern.
Hmm, grunted Padre, was the archon wrong? I did not see any
chimera come through. Jazz told Winthrop and d’Artigan that I
would need both a binding prayer and my meteor-ore weapons.
Just then an upright canine appeared inside of the circle. Padre

froze with dread. He had seen a few such beasts, black and
muscular, eight to twelve feet tall, long limbed, and thick
chested, but narrow at the hips. This one was white, stood
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twelve feet tall, and maybe a bit more, and its head was lupine
rather than canine.
Padre had seen and even fought with a smaller, similar being
twice in over seven hundred years. Nombre grasped his meteor-
ore mace, breathed deeply, pushing away his fear, and tamed it
like a fire. Fire could burn and destroy, but it could also bring
warmth and cook food. Everyone was afraid. He had taught
several village guards this same lesson. Only fools did not fear.
But the wise soldier learned to use that fear rather than being
paralyzed by it.
Padre flexed his shoulders and his knees, took in another deep
breath and then intoned firmly, “Verily, verily, in the Name of
Jesu Christo, I bind you Jackal-Head, Wolf-Head Chimera, or
whatever devil beast you be!”
The lupine spirit wolf’s reverberating laugh turned into a growl.

At the name of Jesu Christo, it shuddered, but then it spoke in
a dark tongue, mixed with English, French and three First
Nations of Canada dialects, all interpreted by Padre’s universal
translator.
“You must have faith for that to work on me, warrior! I will rend
you like the seven sons of Sceva, except that I will not let you
flee naked and scratched. I will eat you and all the humans in
this circle.”
Padre replied, “Accede ad ignem hunc, jam calesces plus satis.

Approach this fire, Wolf-Head, and you will soon be too warm.”
“You speak Latin, then, son of Adam,” snarled the tall white
wolf. Gazing down at the paladin, cocking its head to one side
it continued, “You must be a Catholic priest. I have eaten
hundreds of your kind over the centuries. You black-robes are
pathetic and weak.”
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The boy stepped between the wolf man and the Kaska toddlers.
He said, head erect, and pride etched into the passion of his
young face, “My name is Knight and I will die with honor, spirit
wolf, goblin-spawn, Nekedzaltara! Curse you Ghastly – Wolf!”
The wolfman turned away from Padre, and growled ominously,

eyes brightly burning red orbs, “Shut your face half-breed,
before I bite it off! I am Yes-Yu, the Yukon loup-garou! I will
enjoy eating you son of the dead Metis medicine woman! And
then I will devour your expiring father, McDermot of Clan
McDermot. That Scottish piece of excrement will wake up in my
belly, boy!”
“Forsooth, Yes-Yu, diablo wolf-spirit, it is you who will die this

day!” exclaimed Padre Nombre De Dios. “And while your flesh
rots, your evil spirit will wander the airless tops of the Spine of
the World Mountains.”
Yes-Yu barked haughtily, “You, are a fool priest! I see that you
are a weapons master. Know dunderhead, that no bullet, blade,
or missile can pierce my hide! Use your weak Catholic exorcism
or your puny weapons: they will not avail you.
“Ahh. Now, I understand. You were once a Templar. How did

you wind up on this planet human? No matter. You will taste
just as good. Your bones will crunch just as satisfyingly. Your
hot red blood will sate my sanguineous appetite all the same,
Templar.” Yes-Yu lifted his fanged snout and howled, “Come my
wolf servants. Come dine with me!”
Padre watched the surviving members of the two wolf packs

howl in response. The two male alphas snarled and barked a
retreat order. Two wolves from the first pack and one from the
second stayed. They haltingly crept forward, yipped, howled,
and sniffed the circle hesitantly. Finally, but slowly and
cautiously, they entered the wet sands of the circle.
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Padre shook his head and exclaimed one of his favorite

expressions, “A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi - A precipice in
front, wolves behind. Verily, we are between a rock and a hard
place, lad!” The lad glanced at Padre and nodded but said not a
word. Padre did not know if the lad would understand him, but
young Knight heard and understood every word, for a spiritual
gift that had never operated in Corstevah began to manifest in
that danger-filled moment, which augmented the technical
abilities of the Universal Translator that Nombre wore around
his neck. Such translators worked very well for the wearer, but
not as well for those who heard the speaker wearing the device.
The hairy, long-limbed bipedal lupine and human fallen angel

chimera stuck out his massive snow-haired chest and thumped
it with a long-clawed, six-fingered fist. The devil-beast’s
sulfurous zombie stench wafted across the circle as the winds
softened and changed direction. The humming of the pylon
ebbed to a dull roar almost indiscernible to human ears.
“Your Rock will not save you Templar Priest!” snarled Yes-Yu,
following a lip licking howl. His long pink tongue slid across six-
inch fangs and black-gummed lupine molars as he panted in
anticipation of his upcoming feast.
“Fee-fi-fo-fum is not the mythical doggerel orations of ancient

British skalds; I can literally smell Christians and distinguish
racial and animal species like a shark smells a drop of blood in
an ocean of salt water!
It remarked proudly, “I am Yes-Yu, the Yukon loup-garou! Both

of you are going to go down!” The monster laughed a laugh that
rumbled from deep within its massive muscular chest, flexed
its razor claws, and its knobby knees, and then flicked its long
bushy tail. The lupine goblin monster exclaimed, “Yes, you are
both going down my gullet in two gulps. One pretty boy
horseless caballero and one half-breed lancer kid named
Knight, coming right up!”
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Though wise in evil, the creature was not omniscient. The

goblin-spirit-wolf, lately of the Yukon Territory and the Nahanni
Valley region, thought the deceased disemboweled horse he had
smelled belonged to Padre, rather than the Mounty who was
passed out on his face in the snow. The creature should have
detected the scent of the horse on the clothing of the red-coated
policeman, but the breeze had been blowing a different
direction.
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CHAPTER 5:
TYREL AND STELLA
In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I

have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? John 14:2 KJV
Scholar Ben exited the tunnel through a fountain of multi-

colored sprays of a bush that he had never seen before. The
leaves were a fine green about the size of his palm, slightly paler
on the underside. The floral bouquets were like multi-colored
lilacs in color, with pastel pussy willow centers, but they
streamed downward interlacing the leaves that fluttered in the
breeze, like sparkling curtains of weeping willow branches.
The dry seeds lost their prismatic coloration and became a soft
cottony white, about the size and shape of a large fan-tail
shrimp, but much larger than earthly willow catkins. Several
dry seeds, brushed off by his passing, twirled through the air
and drifted down the slope. He had exited far down the
mountainside, but still several minutes’ walk from the spring-
fed bottom of the cirque.
93
Warm sunlight dappled against the glittervescent flowers

presenting him with an almost mesmerizing prism of dazzling
colors. Each beautiful rainbow-hued flower released a
fragrance as he brushed against them that smelled like crushed
rose petals with a hint of tangerine and cinnamon. Among the
stands of birch and a few scattered oaks, the rainbow willows
were scattered like tinsel on Christmas trees.
The mountains thickly adorned below the tree-line, around the

valley, were almost as steep as the spine of the world mountains
and the trees were mostly white birch stands. Thinly placed in
some spots, the stands of trees grew thicker in others. At the
bottom of the valley was a slight rise of emerald short grass
nestled against a small lake that glistened like a mirror.
The vale was a place of quiet, peaceful magnificence. Steeply

elevated peaks, a mixture of smoky blues and grays, lifted into
glacially adorned hanging valleys, smaller versions of the one
where Scholar Ben was standing, minus the lake. The cirque
of the hanging valley, with its picturesque lake, was a huge
amphitheater of splendorous beauty that took one’s breath
away.
Concavely shaped, the half-opened steep sided valley

descended toward the lake. Ben squinted into the distance and
saw one dwelling that looked like a marble columned ancient
Greek Island pavilion and several small cabins like small Viking
long huts scattered around the lake.
Each building area seemed to have a narrow wooden building

about three feet wide and several feet tall. There were also what
appeared to be an empty chicken coop and a small round barn,
between the long huts and the columned open air
Mediterranean main house. Two other small open aired
buildings, spaced quite far apart on the edge of the lake,
seemed, or so Scholar Ben surmised, a screened fish house and
a laundry facility with a well, a boiler oven, wooden sinks,
washboards, and drying racks.
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Scholar Ben could not see people moving around but observed
the flit of songbirds careening among the branches of a tall
gnarled oak that stood guard like a lonely sentinel at the water’s
edge. A large doe stood beneath the tree, front legs in the water,
drinking deeply from the cool mountain waters.
Scholar Ben stepped into the porticoed Greek Island home,

entering through a latticed patio style door, and called out
“Greetings and Salutations,” but no one responded.
Except for one flat roofed room crafted of adobe and stone, that
was enclosed and covered by an ornate, blond stained, thick
wooden door, the rooms were all open air. The roof of the
columned building was peaked and covered with rounded
terracotta clay tiles.
Walking to the nearest pillar Scholar traced the smooth milky

white surface, webbed with striations of blue and green lines.
“Indubitably, that is fine marble.”
Like most Doric columns, each pillar was thicker at the base,
and narrow at the top, with a simple capital. The side fluting,
however, was composed of alternating vertical rows of seashell
and starfish imprints.
Benachmanides watched the doe lope off from the lake and into
the thick stands of birch that swathed the mountain edge that
cupped the lake shore. Ben reached out gently, testing to see if
the apparent open-air was really that, or was like the invisible
sim windows of his library.
Feeling the slight tingling sensation, followed by a cessation of

movement Scholar whispered, “Indubitably, that is an invisible
sim wall.”
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Overall, the marbled patio room looked quite austere, but

suddenly bookshelves, much like those in his library appeared
out of nowhere, but without many books.
The shelving units were about a meter high and filled with
knick-knacks. Ben peered intently at one china plate on a
wrought iron holder that had appeared atop one of the nearest
shelving units.
It was an autumn nature scene painting of a gray cabin with

smoke spiraling from a chimney. Printed underneath the
picture, on the white rim of the decorative plate were the words,
in Times Roman font, “… as for me and my house, we shall
serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15 KJV.”
Outside, three large glass patio tables, with sky-blue umbrella

tops appeared, not too far from a metal sky-blue and white wood
cookstove, topped with fry pans and pots. Beside it there
appeared an axe, mallet, splitting chisels, firewood, decorative
aluminum flint kit box about the size of a small cookie tin, and
a bucket of kindling.
Scholar Ben heard a whisper in his ear, “They are coming,

Benachmanides Bacharach. Prepare to greet them.”
Tyrel and Stella, appeared beside him, dressed as they had been
earlier when visited by Jazz and Jedd. Scholar been gently
clasped each of them by their arm and warmly offered,
“Greetings and Salutations, Tyrell and Stella. Welcome to your
new home. I am Benachmanides Benjamin Bacharach. Most
people around here call me Ben or Scholar.” He paused and
added, “I have gifts for you. Just let me get them from my pack.”
Ben took out a fine necklace with a white crystal oval stone and
gently handed it to Tyrel. “It is a universal translation pendant
that you will need in your service to the Lord Most High. While
wearing it, the device will translate foreign words and
languages. I am also giving you a calendar tally book. Earth
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calendars don’t work here, but you can use this to keep track
of days, weeks and months.”
While both newcomers were shocked to the point that their

mouths gaped open, Tyrel was a bit unsteady. Neither Tyrel or
Stella spoke, but both smiled and nodded.
“Deep breaths, Tyrel, and you will be fine. If you are a bit cold,
it is just a side product of the travel. The air is quite warm here,
although a bit cooler, than the tropical lands outside this
hanging valley.”
“Where are we?” asked Tyrel. “The air is different. I still feel old,
but I am feeling stronger than I’ve felt in twenty years!”
“It’s not winter here!” exclaimed Stella. “I recognize our stuff,

but where are the walls? What happens if it rains or when
winter does come as it always does?”
Scholar Ben chuckled, “I am certain it will take a bit of getting

used to, but planet Corstevah is a tropical paradise. It never
rains. Do you remember reading in the sixth chapter of
Genesis, that a mist came up from the ground?
“While we cannot demand that there was no rain on earth before

the flood, the Bible does say that a vapor, mist or dew provided
moisture for the growing plants. And there are no winters here,
but,” pointing at the surrounding mountain tops, he added,
“there is a sprinkling of snow, as you can see, on the highest
mountain tops.”
Looking back at Tyrel, Scholar Ben said, “Yes, the air is different
here, than the air on earth.
“You were brought here by angels, but most people who come
to Corstevah from earth, come through portals.
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“It is too complicated to explain, Tyrel, but those devices are

scattered around the country, ancient devices, that no longer
function properly. When there are magnetic fluctuations in the
planet or solar flares, those devices will sometimes start trying
to operate but fail. When they do, they capture people from
earth, and they get stranded here.
I am sent to them, like I have been sent to you, and help them
get settled. There are not large numbers of people here on the
planet, but there are several scattered villages, but people
mostly stay close to their communities, hidden in the mountain
passes. The lands outside of the mountains are lush and
beautiful, but it is teeming with hungry predators.
Exceptionally large ones.
“Anyway, I digress. A few of the people I rescued and took to

the villages were old, though I think they were younger than
both of you. It would take a few months to a year or more, but
the air and nutrients in the food, instantly began energizing
them and healing them.
“Don’t be surprised if your hair starts losing its gray in a few

months. In time you may age regress to the point that you look
as if you are thirty – maybe even twenty years old. Do not be
surprised! I warned you!”
“So, we are going to be young again! The angel said Stella would
one day have children!”
Ben chuckled again, “on earth that would be a miracle like

Abraham and Sarah had, but here, I would hazard that such a
thing would be quite probable.”
Stella looked around excitedly, “I reckon this will be a nice

place. We should invite the neighbors and have a shindig!”
Scholar Ben replied, “I see little cabins around the lake, but
they look new like your gift-house. I think they are empty, and
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I will be bringing a few people, from time to time to stay in them.

Some will be just passing through, but others will stay and
become your neighbors.
“I was told that this hanging valley is the safest spot on the
continent. As far as I know there are not even any predators in
here.
“On the way down, judging by signs and tracks, you have lots
of deer, foxes, squirrels and songbirds. I did not see any reptile
tracks, except for the small tuataras. They are very shy timid
creatures who only come out at night. They trill and sing, but it
is a sound much more beautiful than that of insects and frogs.
I did not see any large cat, Mustelidae, or wolf and bear sign.
You will probably need to thin out the deer population. I only
saw one, and I think there are elk here as well, but the trail I
crossed getting here from the hidden tunnel out of this
mountain valley was layered with sign.”
“Talking about harvesting a deer or two, I own a shotgun, a rifle

and a crossbow, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I am more of a
fisherman though, and is that a fish cleaning house I see by the
lake…You said your name was Ben?”
“Indeed, that is my moniker,” answered Ben.
Tyrel continued, “I can’t wait to try fishing.”
“Are you sure, Ben,” asked Stella anxiously, wringing her plump
tiny hands, that there aren’t any wolves and bears? They can
just walk right through into our house and eat us up!”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. I know it looks like there aren’t

any walls, but just try to reach through them.”
Stella carefully walked over passed a seashell and starfish pillar

and poked a tiny plump finger. She tried several times. “Ty!
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There is a wall there. It’s totally invisible. Kinda stings like. Try
it Ty! Try it!”
Tyrel waved his hands at her, “Don’t get so excited, Stella! Calm
down.” He grunted and shook his head, “Wonders never cease!”
Stella replied, “Okey Dokey, Ty, I’ll calm down. I reckon there’s
things that will take getting’ used to. I always dreamed of going
on a vacation, to the Mediterranean and camp in a patio just
like this. It is my dream house, Ty. I love it. I really do! But
there’s no privacy! And I don’t see an easy chair or a couch.
Where in tarnation are we going to sleep?”
“Never thought about that,” grunted Tyrel.
“This is the first time I have ever seen your house or been to
this hanging valley,” offered Scholar Ben, “but I have toured a
Mediterranean Island back when I lived on earth.
“There is a closed room behind you. Those are probably your

sleeping quarters.”
Both Tyrel and Stella turned around and walked over to the
beautifully constructed blond door of the adobe and native
stone room. Stella excitedly reached forward and opened the
door.
When she opened it and the light of the sun lighted the room,
Stella danced a jig and squealed, “Look! Ty! It’s a fancy canopy
bed, just like I’ve always wanted. It’s a highboy, with burgundy
side curtains of lace with a full emerald green top!”
Tyrel shook his head, “It is just a bed, Lovie, but I’m glad you
like it.”
Stella became deflated, “Where’s our dressers? There’s no

closets,” she whined as she walked inside.
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Scholar Ben, standing behind them asked, “Is there a ladder or

stairway up to the top room? The one I stayed in when I visited
the Mediterranean Islands, just had rugs and furs on the floor,
but there was a ladder up to an open-air room with storage
chests and a padded bench that looked out over the sea.”
Tyrel sliding around behind his wife announced, “Yes, Ben,

there is a small stairway up.” Tyrel carefully ascended the
stairs. He looked around, then called down, “Yes, there are
chests and wardrobes for both of us. They are really fancy and
expensive looking!
“And one of those futon couches that our daughter used to rave
about. It is set up high, on a raised floor, so that we can look
out over the lake. It’s got one of those invisible walls! Great! No
birds, bugs and bats will get in!
“Hey, there’s a gun cabinet up here!” Sounds of drawers and

doors opening and closing, lent a cessation of dialogue to the
confabulation. Ty announced, “No guns, but both my bow and
cross bow and all of my fishing rods and tackle boxes are inside
it.”
Tyrel came down faster than he had went up the stair. He and
Stella exited the bedroom and closed the door.
“I’m so hungry, I could go catch some fish for us. Are you
hungry, Ben?”
Ben rubbed his slight belly and replied, “I haven’t had a good
home-cooked meal in a while. Fish sounds good! My favorite
food though, is slumgullion!”
“What’s slumgullion?” asked Stella, hands on her hips, elbows

flared out over her blue flowered granny dress. “It sounds
awful.”
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After Scholar Ben described the dish, Stella replied, “Well I

never! That’s beef stew! I never heard-tell it called that before!
Is that what they call it here?”
Scholar laughed, “No, that’s what the servants called it in the

mansion where I grew up. The one in London, England that is.”
“That sounds like a story, Ben. A good one,” quipped Tyrel. “I

can tell by the way you talk. Lots of big words and full of stories.
I think we are going to have many interesting conversations in
the future.”
Stella said, “Let’s mosey out to the patio. My Royal Windsor,

wood-fired cook stove, should have a beef vegetable casserole in
it. It’s best hot, but if it is cold it’ll still be good, too.”
The trio opened the latticed patio door and stepped down the
short and wide roughhewn, granite steps that elevated the
open-air home and strolled over to the out-door patio.
When they stepped outside, the low bellowing of a Holstein calf

and its mother, called out from a timbered stock pen. Black and
white Wyandotte chickens crowed and hopped about pecking at
bugs.
“I see God has given you your critters back, Ty.” Just then the
family dogs, a golden retriever, and a blue-tick heeler-collie
cross barked and ran into the yard, happily greeting Tyrel and
Stella, but carefully sniffing in the direction of and closely
watching Scholar Ben.
Ben laughed and said, “Dominus Providbit. The Lord will

provide.”
“Indeed, He does,” answered Tyrel, petting his dogs.
“Shoo. Go lay down now,” crooned Stella, “You are loveable

mutts, but it’s time for eats!” The two dogs obediently found a
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spot just outside the table area. “Have you doggies seen the
cats? I suppose Orange Dream and Choco Snuggles are hiding
somewhere. At least I hope they came with us!”
An apple pie sat on the patio table on top of a crowing black

rooster hot pad, that sat protectively atop the blue checkered
tablecloth which deftly covered and skirted the legs of the first
patio table.
There was a sturdy oak cabinet a yard or so from the patio table.
Stella asked, “What’s in here I wonder?” She opened it and
dispensed a few plates, silver, and cups. She tossed Tyrel some
hot mitts that matched the rooster hot pad, and said, “Since
you seem right spry this afternoon, Ty, how ‘bout opening the
oven on that Royal Windsor cook stove and take out the
casserole. Hope it is at least good and warm.
“If you reckon you can, Ty, stir up the coals, if there are any,
and throw in some more wood. I’ll grab a pitcher and get some
water from the lake. We’ll drink the water with our meal, and I
want to start some coffee.”
There’s a well in the laundry that’s closer,” offered Scholar.
“I’ll try it,” replied Stella, “but if it doesn’t taste right, I’ll go down
to the lake.”
When she returned with the water, she asked Tyrel to pray and
the three shared the meal.
After the meal Scholar Ben pushed back his mug of black coffee
and said, “The day is still young. And I am energized from one
of the best meals I have ever eaten. I cannot remember when I
last had coffee! Tea yes, but coffee, not in forever. How would
you like to see my new gift house and my favorite place called
‘The Overlook?’ I promise, you won’t even have to walk far, and
we’ll come right back.”
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Tyrel and Stella looked at each other. Tyrel finally said, “The
day is young, as you say, Ben, and I feel stronger than I have
for years. I guess if it doesn’t take too long and we don’t have to
walk too far, I reckon it will be Okey Dokey.”
Scholar Ben gently arose from the umbrella-topped patio table

and said, “You have experienced the angelic Far Travel gift
today. I have a lesser Far Travel gift that is just for humans.
The Lord Most High gave me the Far Travel gift many decades
ago, but I just learned this extra little perk a few years ago. The
Lord gave it to me for helping people like you get settled.”
Tyrel and Stella arose as well.
Gently, but firmly, Scholar Ben clasped one forearm of both

Tyrel and Stella. In a flash all three appeared in his library.
Almost in unison Tyrel and Stella said, “I reckon that is going

to take a bit of getting used to!”
Scholar Ben gave them a tour of the library. When they stepped
outside of the library tower, Stella covered her mouth with her
hand and said, “Oh My Lord God – the flowers. His flowers here
put my old earthly flower gardens to shame.”
While Stella began to carefully examine every flower, fruit and

vegetable in Scholar Ben’s lawn, the elk family appeared again,
but grazing in a different spot. Scholar Ben put his fingers to
his lips, then whispered, “Tyrel, have you ever seen a trophy
elk?”
Tyrel shook his head again and muttered, “May wonders never
cease! I don’t think there is a world class trophy elk anywhere
near that size on earth. I went hunting in Alaska with my son
while he was still alive. We hired a plane and stayed at a lodge
with some native trackers. They were along to keep us from
getting lost and to keep the bears off! We shot a big one. We
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thought it was a record breaker, but it wasn’t.” Tyrel asked,

“Do all the elk get that big here?”
“They get bigger!” Ben asked, “Do you remember, Tyrel, when I
told you that most people live near or in the mountains because
they are safer from the bigger predators that roam the plains?”
Tyrel nodded.
Scholar Ben wiped his hands on his lean hips and stretched his
narrow shoulders before continuing, “Do you see those sequoia-
tall lavender and gray barrel-trunked trees that skirt the forest
behind the tower and extend as far as the eye can see?
“Those are similar to the barrel trees on that one island, on

earth, that I was telling you about, but much larger than the
ones on Madagascar.”
“I think I have heard of Madagascar,” replied Tyrel thoughtfully.

“It is a large island off south eastern Africa, if I remember my
geography lessons from my one room school days.”
“Top marks, Tyrel. Anyway, this is a similar species of tree. Its

wood and waters are terribly bitter and nauseously toxic, and
the bark is hard as iron. They also grow so close together that
they form a tall fence around the edge of the mountain forests.
Here and there one shrivels up and dies, is missing or does not
flush up to another tree, forming an opening. The bigger
predators cannot get through.
“Now there are some large flying predators that can fly over the
barrier, but the forests in most of the Smoke Mountains, which
this range is called, is very dense, Much denser than earth
forests. So, the large flying carnivores often stick to the open
lands.”
“Do those big birds fly into our new home on the lake in the
secret mountain valley?” asked Tyrel.
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“No, I think it has an invisible barrier like the sim-walls of your

Mediterranean style home. You would think predators would
find a way through the tunnel. And not only, animals, there is
a bandit tribe of humans that live about a day’s walk from that
tunnel. They do not know about it.”
“Bandits?” asked Tyrel worriedly.
“There are a few bandit clans,” responded Scholar Ben,

“scattered around Corstevah, but my friend Nombre de Dios, he
is a knight from earth, that does this same kind of work that I
do, that is his department. He was just sent to Eastern
Corstevah to be a warden there. This is Western Corstevah. He
would usually take care of that problem, but unless they get out
of hand, we let them be. Their unfounded optimism and general
stupidity usually wind-up being their downfall. They often lead
a short life and they end up lunch for the carnivores, sooner
rather than later.”
Ben asked, following a pause, “Do you know what a dinosaur

is, Tyrel?”
“Yeah, I’ve read about them and seen drawings of them. I have
heard a few stories about them still living in remote places, but
I think they are just stories. They died out millions of years ago,
or so I’ve read.”
Scholar Ben asked, “Do you think we are in a remote place?

Remote from earth that is?”
Tyrel cocked his head at an angle and looked down his hawk
nose, “Dinosaurs here? Do you mean Komodo dragons or big
alligators?”
Tyrel called for Stella and when she walked over, holding a
handful of flowers, she said, “I picked some, Ben. I hope you
don’t mind.”
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Scholar Ben smiled, “Enjoy them. They are beautiful, but until
today I never saw anything as beautiful, as far as flowering
shrubs, as the Rainbow Willows. Unless there are some growing
across the Spine of the World Mountains, they only grow at your
place. That mountain chain I mentioned is too high to cross. My
friend Nombre was teleported there recently. You simply must
go find a specimen of Eritque Arcus Salix, that is a rainbow
willow tree. They grow all over in your secluded mountain
valley. The branches are like willow trees from earth---”
“We have, uhh, had a willow tree in our backyard at home,”

offered Stella.
“The branches are like willow trees,” continued Scholar, and it

has flowers that are kind of like lilac bushes, but they come in
a rainbow of colors. And when the sunlight strikes them, they
glitter like sunspots on a choppy lake on a bright and breezy
day. I will have to collect one and add it to my library collection.
Until today I didn’t know such a floral species existed.”
“Take as many as you want, Scholar! Maybe we can dig one up

or soak a branch in water for you?” offered Tyrel. “Stella has
green thumbs. She is great with shrubs and flowers!”
Scholar smiled and thanked them, then said dramatically,

“Ready, Tyrel and Stella? Overlook, here we come, ready or not!”
When they appeared on top of the Overlook of the mile-long flat-

topped Mesa of Sleestaka Plains, he held onto Tyrel and Stella
firmly.
Upon arriving Stella promptly dropped her flowers that she had
clutched to her bosom. The flowers fell slowly, tumbling in slow
motion, from the top of the mesa far down to the lake and river
that flowed out into the plain.
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Roving bands of gigantic lions, huge hyenas, dire wolves, and

both single predatory dinosaurs, and groups, most of them
majestically humongous, skirted the waters, preying upon giant
sauropods that swam in the lake grazing upon water lilies,
seaweeds, and other marine vegetation. Tyrel muttered, “My
Lord and My God and My King!”
Stella covered her mouth with her hand, “How do people

survive? There are monsters everywhere!”
“Nisi per gratiam Dei est script – only by God’s grace.”
“You’ve got that right, Scholar,” said Tyrel.
Behind them some distance away the shrill cries of the

pterosaurs filled the skies as they cawed from atop the broken
temple pillars of the Lost City.
“If you think living, larger than life dinosaurs, are spectacular,”
said Scholar, “wait until you see the night sky. There are rare
nights on earth, with a crisply scintillating sprinkling of stars
across an ebony sky, that are memorable, but the dullest night-
sky of Corstevah is beyond comprehension, my dear friends!”
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CHAPTER 6:
BATTLE AT WOLFSHEAD GATE
“…the people that do know their god

shall be strong and do exploits.”
Daniel 11:32 b KJV
Padre hugged his shield to the left side of his body, covering his
vulnerable side and stomach and angled his mace defensively.
He focused most of his attention on the tall Wolf-Head, but in
his peripheral vision, he also watched the three charmed wolves
enter the sandy flat of the stone pillared portal ring. The
morning sun was still shining at about the nineth hour position
forcing shadows of the cones across the white sands of the circle
like jagged teeth.
Time had slowed for Padre as it often did for him during battles.
He noticed the red-coated soldier stir and rise to a kneeling
position, and freeze momentarily, as he noted the gargantuan
wolf preparing to launch in his direction. One second the pistol
was on the Mountie’s belt and with flashing speed, in the next
second, it was in his hand.
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Padre focused again on the spirit-wolf, then side-stepped as

Knight dropped the but-end of his spear into the sand. He
watched Knight angle the weapon forward as the small she-wolf
leaped.
Yes-Yu howled and smirked, “I will take great satisfaction in

devouring you Templar. I have supped on many of your kind,
back on earth, centuries ago.”
Continuing to circle, as did the loup-garou, Padre exclaimed,

“Spare me your super-villain discourses, arch-knave and devil-
wolf!”
Just then Padre noticed that the bright red light from the
chimera’s orbs had dimmed. “Forsooth,” whispered Padre, “I see
the binding prayer is kicking in.”
Yes-Yu growled, hesitated, and blinked.
The change was subtle, but to the paladin’s experienced eyes,

he saw that the spirit-wolf’s lightning fast, flowing movements
had slowed, and a barely perceptible hesitancy began to shroud
its actions.
The goblin-wolf spoke again, but the former superlative evil

intelligence had vanished. Even the cadence of its voice had
changed, and the former superlatively intellectual verbosity had
disappeared. The devil-wolf sounded more beast than super-
human. “I kill you now, man-thing. Eat you I will,” it snarled
with an ominous snap of its slavering maw.
Then, distracted, the evil Nekedzaltara snapped its head in the

direction of the red-coated Mounty and the lad, Knight.
Not taking his eyes off the circling wolf-man, Padre let his
peripheral vision assess the situation to his side.
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As Knight crouched, holding his spear tip outward, shaft end

against the ground, he caught the leaping she wolf through the
chest when she pounced. Snarling and yipping she slid down
the blade as Knight frantically fought to maintain his balance.
The she-wolf wriggled, snarling, teeth bared, and jaws
snapping. The little wolf, not much bigger than the earth wolves,
that had passed through the portal earlier, try as it might, was
unable to force itself forward.
The female did rake the lad once with the claws of its fore paws,
as it danced death’s final waltz. Yelping and whimpering, it
lingered for a long while, temporarily evading death. It tugged
Knight forcefully, this way and that, in its final fight, prancing
at the end of his spear.
Meanwhile red-coat fanned his Colt 45 in a blaze of glory as the

pony-sized male lupine charged. Five bullets burst into its
chest. The last pierced the roof of its snarling, saliva dripping
maw. The Royal Mounted Policeman dropped his smoking gun
and defensively covered his head and throat with his arms.
The wolf’s charge had bowled him over. Its jaws snapped like a
vice-grip along the edge of his wrist. The crunch of breaking
bone was audible as the massive jaws splintered the Mounty’s
carpals. Its forward momentum forced it, snout over tail, to lose
its grip, as it rolled over the man. The wolf spun and collapsed,
growling. It tried crawling back to attack once more, but
spasming once, it died.
Then the loup-garou, slowed and confused, but still a formidable

opponent, prepared to leap. But the third wolf, a male larger
than the one killed by the Mounty, had leaped first. Like a horse
jumping over a tourney barrier, gray wolf hair raised along its
back like that of a hissing cat’s, it had bypassed the Mounty
and the lad Knight, taking aim at Padre.
Padre adroitly stepped back, much like a matador. As the wolf

flew passed, neck craning around to bite the paladin, down
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crashed the meteor-ore mace. The blunt force trauma of the

weapon crushed the beast’s skull like a shattered watermelon;
brains and blood splattered everywhere.
Barely in time, Padre raised his shield as the loup-garou raked

his left claw in a sideswipe. The blow was jarring, leaving the
former Templar, momentarily exposed to the wolf-man’s right
claw attack. It came down high and hard but was stopped by
the haft of the mace.
The impetus of the blow knocked the mace from Padre’s hand,
but doing an evasive tumble roll, to his left, the warrior-priest
came adroitly to his feet. The swish of the blade sounded a
quick echoing call to arms when Nombre de Dios whipped out
his meteor-ore katana.
The loup-garou clenched its left six-fingered fist and slammed

a wicked haymaker at Padre’s shield, busting the carapace, but
the metal frame held it intact. Anticipating the move and
ignoring the wrenching pain as his shoulder took the impact
through the shield, the wily knight-errant whipped up the
katana with a swift upper cut.
The blade of the sword was almost unbreakable and sharper

than Toledo steel. Yes-Yu howled in anguish, clutching his
stump, blood-spewing from his severed arm. It howled, glaring
at Nombre de Dios, raging in tortured disbelief.
Stepping forward and spinning lightly to the right, Padre did an

upward superman leap forward, and plunged the katana into
the sweet spot between the monster’s ribs, where the beast’s
heart pumped madly.
Wrenching the blade out, as Padre fell back, graceful as a feline,

the wolf-man fell awkwardly to its knees. In the blink of an eye,
Padre flexed his legs into the correct stance for a diagonally
flicked blade slice that swiped the neck from the lupine’s
colossal shoulders. The skull tumbled and rolled away, leaking
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out crimson waves, along with the Wolf-Head’s neck, onto the
wet sands of the sharply pointed coned circle. Once the head
had been removed, that ended the chimera’s super-charged
regeneration ability. The flesh died, but its spirit did not.
Padre exclaimed, “Verily, verily, in the Name of Jesu Christo, I

sentence your spirit, Yes-Yu, to roam the Spines of the World
Mountain until it is time for you to rot in Hell!”
Bowing his head Padre said, “Thank you for victory, Jesu
Christo. Thank you for saving our lives. Please help us to get
home.”
Looking around the circle, Nombre noticed that people were

beginning to sit up or stand, except for Knight’s father. Knight
was kneeling by his father, talking softly.
Padre looked at the mixed group and announced, “I am Padre

Nombre. Welcome to Corstevah. I was sent by the Lord Most
High to help you.”
A native American man, with just a hint of white at his

sideburns, tugged his braid, then replied, “Creator be praised!
Chief Dancing Caribou thanks you. Although my tribe calls me
Chief or Chief Dancer.” He pointed at a pretty, but heavy
woman, “This is my wife Squatting Beaver, although we call her
Bee. And these are our children.”
They smiled hesitantly. The oldest, a boy, stood quietly, but the
five other children, the second oldest and the youngest girls,
stepped behind Bee. They peeked out smiling and whispered to
each other.
“Hola! Which band and where are you from? Forsooth, I have
helped others who look and dress like you before.”
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Chief Dancer whispered to an old woman at his side and pointed

towards the fallen Scotsman. He said, “Dene Strong-Oak, go
help McDermot and Knight, and then see about the Mounty.”
He cleared his throat, “To answer your question Padre...” He

paused and pointed at the Mounty who was sitting, watching
the introductions, cradling his bleeding right arm to his
stomach, and then at the another band of natives huddled
behind him, as well as four women who had entered through
the portal independently, who were scattered around the circle.
Chief Dancer continued, “Chief Dancer cannot speak for the

others, Padre, but my band is Slavey, from the Nahanni Valley
of Canada.
“My family and four braves were asked to leave our tribe
because we wanted to worship only Creator and not the other
small g gods and spirit beings. We were on our way to Fort
Liard to trade our furs and see about living there for a while.
“We met Scotty McDermot and his son Knight there. He said he
had a small cabin, next to his trading post, near Fort Simpson,
that he would let us use. We were traveling from Fort Liard
together, and he fell through the ice, crossing a lake. That is
how he came down with pneumonia. We both had dog sleds,
too. Chief Dancer does not see them anywhere. It seems our
belongings, except for the items we were carrying, didn’t make
it through with us.”
Padre answered, “The portal storms are like that. Usually only
one or two people or animals come through, but with big storms
like this, many people or animals are trapped and brought
here.”
One of Chief Dancer’s braves stepped forward, “Oskar Snow-

Owl greets you. Hail mighty warrior! How we get back?”
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“As far as I know, forsooth,” replied Padre with a sad hunch of

his broad shoulders, “once a person is brought from earth to
planet Corstevah, there is no going back. If a portal opens back
to earth, you cannot just walk back over. There is a shield in
place that will not let you enter. You cannot see it. I have tried.
I have heard of others, such as yourselves who have tried. And
yet, there is a species here, called a Skookum, that is able to
travel back and forth.”
Snow-Owl grunted and stepped back.
Another brave at his side stepped forward, “Medicine-Horn

greets you.” He pointed to a brave beside him, with a barrel
chest and back and muscular torso, “this High Back Bull.
Youngling, next to him, is my brother, Barnabas Hawkfeather.
We call him Hawk.”
Nombre turned as he heard Dene Strong-Oak, rock slowly from

side to side, and whisper to Knight, “Dene Strong-Oak sorry,
Knight. There is nothing I can do. Your father has passed on to
Happy Hunting Grounds.” One lone tear slipped down Knight’s
cheek, but he said nothing. Nombre’s gaze shifted to the two
native children who sat quietly on the ground at Knight’s side
and then watched as Dene Strong-Oak took ointment and
towels from her pack and began ministering to the Mounty.
Just then a tall and willowy woman of great beauty, with creamy
coppery skin, wearing a fine skirt and an expensive seal fur and
leather winter jacket, stepped forward and curtsied. The tall,
slim lady possessed a stately demeanor of palaces, even though
wearing only exquisitely crafted Aluetian clothing. Though she
dressed in a much finer fashion, her clothing style was like that
of the Metis women. There was a distinctive aura about her
that subtly declared her connection to Russian nobility.
Technically, she was a Tinglat princess, not a Russian princess.
When she spoke, Wind-Elk often displayed the Russian accents
of her father, but the accent was neither as heavy nor
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pronounced as generally practiced by Russians speaking

English as a second language.
While Wind-Elk did not hyphenate two syllable words, as her

father would have, to say such terms as daugh-ter or bro-ther,
she did tend to pronounce th sounds with a distinctive z. And
yet she could pronounce the t and th sounds for words such as
time or told, theological or thunderstruck, but tended to say
that, their, and there or with as her Russian father would
naturally speak those words. “I am Wind-Elk Sokolov. My
father is a Russian Trading Diplomat. Are you certain zhat we
cannot return? 1897 is the year my father goes back to Russia
to visit his family and I am supposed to sail wizz him across the
sea!”
“Pardon me Madam Sokolov, did you say 1897!”
“Yes, Mounty, uhhm…?”
Padre looked between them curiously.
“I am Royal Mounted Policeman Dexter LaClare,” he grunted as

Dene swabbed his wrist and applied an herbal ointment, “at
your service. But how can that be? I was on the trail of a miner
who went mad and had killed his partner, north of Headless, in
the Nahanni Valley. It is 1925. Aylesworth Perry is my
Commissioner. I was just sent last fall to the Laird McKenzie
area to replace Mounty Sergeant H. A. Joy.”
Wind-Elk smiled gently, “I am certain zhat zhe year is 1897,

Mounty LaClare. I am well educated and would not mistake the
year.”
Padre interjected, “Forsooth, no need to bicker. Most likely both

of you, Miss Wind-Elk and Mounty LaClare, are correct in your
estimate of the year. It is common for a portal storm of this
magnitude to pull people and animals from different time
zones.”
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Elder Laughing Otter, of the McKenzie Mountain Band, stepped

forward, “Laughing Otter once met H.A. Joy just after
Commissioner Perry sent him on expedition to explore north
rim. My son-in-law,” he paused and pointed at a tall thin man,
dressed in furs and a white fox cap, “has seen LaClare.”
“My name is Sully McCloud; I am married to Elder Otter’s

granddaughter Moon-Dove. Yes, I know of Dexter. Never met
him until now. The year was 1925, for my family anyway, when
our group was whisked away from earth to here. Wherever here
is. Nice place though. We left a land of ice and snow in the
middle of a blizzard and this place is a tropical paradise! Kind
of reminds me of the hot spring valleys in the Nahanni region.”
LaClare, a thirty-year-old man with short golden hair, who

stood a stocky ten inches over five feet, cocked his head and
addressed the fur-trapper. He tended to walk very stiffly, like a
calvary officer. “Glad to meet you, sir. I wish our meeting were
under better circumstances. Are you related to the McCleod
who is manager of the Hudson Bay Company at Fort Liard?”
McCloud slowly nodded his head from side to side and

answered, “Non, I know the man, LaClare, but he spells his
name differently. Mine is spelled Mc capital C and then L, O, U,
and D. His name is spelled L, E, O and D. And his family is
much more famous than mine.”
Laughing Otter interjected, “McCloud is married to my

granddaughter Moon-Dove. That short handsome fellow with
the scar on his cheek is my youngest son, Small Bear. His wife
is Caroline Eaglewings. That bundle of joy on her back is their
first papoose, Tiwi.
“The tall warrior with us is Winnamaka. He Yellowknife. We

were getting ready to travel back to summer camp in the
McKenzie Mountains. Winnamaka stopped to share fire but was
on his way to his family lands in Northern Yukon.
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“We were sitting around fire talking. Suddenly all kneeling in

snow. We feared getting trampled in stampede! Not sure year.”
“Forsooth, the portals have a way of doing that,” replied Padre

with a nod of his handsome moon face, “interrupting our lives
at a moment’s notice and changing them forever.” Nombre De
Dios paused then added, “We still haven’t heard from the three
other lasses who appeared with Miss Wind-Elk Sokolov.”
The three ladies looked at each other. One short buxom woman
stepped forward and said, “Guten Morgen, Tolly Weber I am.
Only daughter I am the of the gold miner Gunter Weber. Struck
it rich he never, but he had a knack for well doing. Ya, ya!
Enough so that we got by comfortably. He was a drinker or
gambler never. Nein! Helped us that did. We had a cabin near
Prairie Creek. Looks like Vater is going to have, without me, to
go on.” Crestfallen, holding back tears, face reddening, she
stared at her worn quill and bead moccasins.
A plain and tall native with a warm smile stepped forward, “I

am Deedra McKay. I am a Metis.” She pronounced the word
May-tee. She continued, “My mother and father live in cabin
near Fort Liard. We trapped, gathered herbs, and hunted and
traded near there. 1851 was year.”
Next a dark haired, dark eyed woman with a button nose,

dressed in a knee-length gingham dress, but wearing woolen
pants beneath said shyly, looking down at the sands as she
spoke, following her first glance at the surrounding faces, “Oui,
I am Millie Snow-Hare McByers. My parents were going to open
a small trading post between Fort Simpson and Fort Liard. My
daddy hunted and trapped. My momma was good at crafting
and making clothes.”
The last lady, dressed in furs, did not step forward. She offered,
“I also am daughter of hunters, gatherers, and trappers. We
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lived closer to Fort Simpson. My name is Lydia LaPoint. I prefer

to be called Lydi.”
“Thank you for introducing yourselves. Well, actually, Knight

did not introduce himself, but I have heard his name twice
today and I will remember it with pride and honor. And today
is a day we will all remember. I do not know the two native
children who came through the portal together.”
While it came to his ears as English, Padre heard as Knight

asked the boy and girl toddlers their names in the Kaska dialect.
The boy replied, “I am Raven. My sister’s name is Nosse. That
means mouse.”
Knight looked up at Padre, his black eyes very intense, and said,
“I wish to bury my father according to his customs.”
Padre said, “I will say words for him. There is a cemetery with
an open grave back in my camp.” He pointed up to the
mountain toward an overlook in a low valley. It will probably
take us until almost night to walk up there.”
“Laughing Elder,” said Padre. “I notice that your group has a

travois that came through. Do you think we could split up your
supplies, and use it to bring Knight’s father back to my camp?”
Small Bear and his wife prepared packs and distributed them
to himself and McCloud and Moon-Dove.
Oskar Snow-Owl said to the other three Slavey braves. “Come.

Let us take turns pulling the travois. Oskar Snow Owl will take
first turn.” He then helped Knight position his father’s body
onto the travois. Once again, Knight placed his father’s pack
under his head like a pillow and picked up his wool cap and
placed it gently over his head and face. Raven and Mouse
followed quietly behind him.
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Padre said, “Forsooth, do you see those barrel shaped trees that
border the forests? My friend the scholar says that there is an
island on earth that has a similar species. If you look closely,
one of them is missing. I will have the hardest time squeezing
through the opening myself, but if I can get through, you can
easily get through.
“I haven’t walked the trail yet,” said Padre, “but I could see it
from the mountain top. Hold on. Maybe I should check it out
first. You are safe inside the portal circle.”
Padre was gone in a flash. He Far Traveled to the other side of

the opening, looked around the narrow forest game trail, then
using the same method of travel, joined the party back in the
circle.
Chief Dancer asked the question all the others were pondering.
“Chief Dancer asks, what kind of man are you, Padre? You kill
unkillable Nekedzaltara! You vanish and appear in another
place and then back again!”
“I am just a servant of Jesu Christo. You serve Creator, just like

I do. I just call Him by different names. I am a priest. I was a
Templar once, but now am just a warrior. As far as my job
description, my work is much like that of Mounty LaClare. It is
my job to rescue people trapped by the portals and generally
keep the peace in the villages. Although, I have no villages here.
They are back far to the west. Western Corstevah is separated
from Eastern Corstevah by an impassable mountain range.”
Padre’s left arm and shoulder were still recovering from the
battle with the Devil-Wolf. He picked up his shield and slowly
and awkwardly positioned it over the harness hook on his back.
“Follow me. I will lead you to your new home.” He added,
“Verily, I know you are in a great deal of pain Mounty LaClare,
but are you able to travel?”
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LaClare replied, “I am a Mounty. I will endure. I want to find

my horse, though. I want to get my rifle and pull a few things
from my saddle bags.”
Padre replied, “We don’t have any more horses. Domesticated

ones, that is. And once your bullets are gone, Dexter, your rifle
and pistol, will be no more than fancy clubs. By the way, nice
job on that wolf, Mounty LaClare. That wolf left scars, but it is
dead, and you are alive. You will heal, and much faster than
you would have on earth!”
The party paused as they came to the remains of Dexter’s sorrel

mustang. Bloating and stiffening had not started, but wolves
had devoured sections of it, and the carrion were taking over,
not only on the horse, but other scattered kills. The Mounty
yelled at a few vultures. They flew off to peck another carcass.
Dexter said, “I’ll miss that old boy. I had to let him know who
was boss sometimes, but that horse could take me through wild
country where the company horses floundered.”
Unbuttoning his jacket with his left hand, he winced. Dexter

grumbled an oath as he snagged the sling Dene Strong-Oak had
placed around his right arm, LaClare, gingerly used his left
hand to rummage through his saddle bag that wasn’t covered
by the horse, filled his pockets with bullets and jerky, then
grabbed his water canteen and slung it over his good shoulder.
Last he picked up his carbine.
The party was just crossing the stream that meandered through
the forty-foot-high barrel tree border that led to the opening
onto the mountain path when Mounty Dexter asked. “Padre, I
was pretty out of my mind, when I came to, but it seems like I
remember hearing the loup-garou saying you were a Templar. I
am a history buff. I read everything I could about them. Weren’t
they disbanded in March 1312? How can you be a Templar?”
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Padre’s eyes flashed with irritation, but then he sighed. “That is

ex-Templar, Dexter. I haven’t been a Templar for several
hundred years.”
“Several hundred years! That’s almost harder to swallow than

your vanishing act and the fact that you can kill a werewolf that,
according to legend, could not be cut with any blade or pierced
with bullets.”
Padre answered, “Have you ever read the book of Genesis?”
“Yes, my Bible was in my other saddle-bag.” replied Mounty

LaClair. “The one I couldn’t get to. I have read from it, but not
as much as I should have.”
“Verily, this planet is like earth was back when Adam and his
grand children were around. People lived a long time then. It
was not unusual in those days for people to live almost one
thousand years. Planet Corstevah is like that, too.”
Nombre De Dios watched as Wind-Elk, Tolly, Lydia and Millie

walked back to a position behind the lad Knight. Millie asked
Mouse if she could carry her. The Kasha toddler hesitated but
had been crying again because walking was too hard, so she
allowed it.
They crossed the stream. Padre was not able to squeeze

through the opening into the forest. He Far Traveled to the other
side of the gap.
Chief Dancer’s band followed into the forest, shadowed by Elder

Otter’s tribe. Then came Oskar Snow-Owl, pulling the travois
carrying the deceased Scotty McDermot, followed by Knight.
Knight picked up the back of his father’s travois as they crossed
the stream but gently dropped it back down as they exited the
waters. Last came the four single ladies with the two Kaska
native children.
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Knight turned and said, “Thank you for seeing to the Kaska
children. The Kaska are a very violent tribe and few others will
help them.”
Wind-Elk replied, “Nyet! In my time, zhat was considered myth

and legend. Maybe was true at one time? My father monitored
the Russian fur company zhat traded wizz zhem. Some of zhem
were honorable. Some were not. Zhat could be said about any
people group.”
Mounty LaClare caught up again with Padre. He said, “I have

always wanted to be a Templar. It looks like I am not going to
be going back to earth. Why don’t you show me how to be a
Templar? Since I can’t be a Mounty and there is no
Commissioner Aylesworth Perry to report to anymore.”
Nombre scowled, shook his head, and exclaimed “Maleducado!”

He added, “Forsooth, Dexter, let me educate you on the
Templars!
“Verily I say unto you, LaClare, in medieval times, contrary to

common belief...” Padre paused to emphasize the word most.
“… most knights and Templars were bandits, mercenaries,
lawless brigands, highwaymen, and thieves! The presumed
chivalry of European knights and Holy Templars had as much
to do with most medieval cavaliers as The Unique Son of The
Most High God, Jesu Christo, had with the temporal riches,
corruption and hypocrisy of the church.
“Commonly attended by their wicked entourage of servants,

priests, and whores, they went from quest to quest like a band
of gypsies or gang of Caribbean pirates. City to city, village to
village, pillaging, murdering, skirmishing, raping, and thieving
the population mercilessly. Soldiering and warring were the
nobleman's substitution for gainful employment in those times.
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“Templars, forsooth, with few exceptions, if they were possessed

of good Godly character, then they were oft as not assassinated
or abandoned in battle to die.
“Those Templar princes of higher rank, privy to the dark

secrets, did not worship Jesu Christo or the Lord Most High, as
we do, but instead they bowed their heart and knee to the dark
prince of princes, that entity known in the Holy Scriptures as
Ha-Satan. Although, that is a title or job function, not a name.
Ha is the definitive article, the. People call you Dexter or
LaClare. Not ‘The Dexter or the LaClare. Well, the is the first
part of your surname, but I think you get my point. Please
forgive the redundancy, forsooth. But they may call you ‘the
Mounty.’”
Dexter LaClare nodded.
“No, Dexter, stop dreaming of the good and noble virtues of

Templars! However, if you are looking for a vocation, Corstevah
needs a branch of your Mounties.” Padre paused, then
continued dramatically with the musical, lilting Spanish accent
that always managed to lace his dialogs like chains of pretty
verbal wildflower garlands, “I can commission you just as well
as what was his name, ahh, Aylesworth Perry! Forsooth, Dexter,
we need heroes in Corstevah, as much as your wintery Canada
needs Royal Mounted Policeman!”
“Once I mend, Padre, I want to help.”
Padre smiled, “Good.” The warrior-priest turned back,

dramatically waving an arm. “Hola, alla atras? How is everyone
doing back there? I know it is not that far to my compound but
traveling in the mountains always seems to take at least two or
three times as long as you would think. And we are not going to
the top of the mountains, but into a low valley, along the edge
of the mountain.
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“Forsooth, if we do not run into an impassible route or get

attacked by smaller wolves, bears or dinosaurs, we should
make it back before nightfall. And verily, I say, the night-sky
here is much more beautiful than earth.”
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126
CHAPTER 7:
SETTLING IN
HE IS LIKE A TREE
PLANTED BY STREAMS OF WATER
THAT YIELDS ITS FRUIT IN ITS SEASON,
AND ITS LEAF DOES NOT WITHER.
IN ALL THAT HE DOES, HE PROSPERS.
PSALM 1:3
The sun had not yet set, but the day was winding to a close.
“Well, my new friends, have you seen enough of the “Lost City
Overlook? Are you ready for me to return you to your new home
in the Rainbow Willow Valley?”
“Okey Dokey,” said Tyrel.
“Are you sure there aren’t any monsters near our new home,
Ben?” asked Stella.
“Bosh! I was promised that the Lord Most High gave you the
safest home in all of Corstevah. Prepare yourselves now. I will
Far Travel with you back to your gift-home.”
Scholar Ben, Tyrel and Stella appeared back in the patio area
of their Mediterranean style home.
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“If you want, I am sure you could stay in that nearest cabin on
the lake,” offered Stella.
Scholar Ben smiled patiently, “I would prefer not. However, I

thank you for your kind consideration.
“I am excited to return to my new gift-home and settle in, just

as I am certain is the case for you, Tyrel, and Stella. This is my
first day at the library. I lived in Archon Jedd’s castle before
that.
“What an adventure we had today! My thoughts are fractured.

My energy is spent. I am ready for a nocturnal journey in the
land of blinkin’ and nod. May the Great Elohim and His Unique
Son bless you!
“I will probably give you at least a day or so to settle in, but then
I shall return to explain the duties of your assignment here in
Elohim Most High’s service. And may I suggest, before you retire
for the evening yourselves, go up to the loft, sit on the roof,
thank Jesu for His wonderful gift, and be amazed at the beauty
of the night sky, which He created?”
With a slight bow to Tyrel and Stella, Scholar Ben said, “I take
my leave.” Instantly he was gone, back to his library tower.
Tyrel clasped Stella’s hand, “Scholar Ben was right as rain.

Today was a great adventure. Shall we retire to the roof Lovie,
and watch the sunset together?”
“Let’s clean up the table, Okey Dokey? We don’t want to invite

any skunks or other varmints to eat our vittles.”
Tyrel replied, “That would probably be best, but the doggies will
probably chase them off.”
128
Stella and Tyrel chatted as they filled a basket and walked to

the wash house.
“I really like this new place, Ty, but it is going to take some
getting’ used to. I miss running water, the commode, and my
fridge. I will have to think through how much food I prepare.
Either it will have to be food that stores well, or we are going to
have to eat it up at the table. And too much human food isn’t
good for our doggies and kitties, I reckon. We need more salt for
preserving. And we need to do some meat smokin’, too.”
Tyrel nodded and said, “I reckon so.” He paused, “Should I start

a fire under the boiler for the dishes, Lovie?”
“No. Just a quick rinse off should be good for tonight,” replied
Stella. “We can take care of washing in hot water after
breakfast. Talking about washing dishes. I think we are going
to have to make our own soap again.”
“We could do that Lovie. Maybe we can trade for it or the

ingredients we can’t find, at one of the settlements. We’ll have
to ask Scholar Ben. It might be that if we look more carefully
around the property tomorrow, maybe there are a few things in
our personal effects that we can use during the transition, like
dishwater soap, laundry soap or bathroom soap.”
Stella said, “Well, I suppose it’s time to go up and try out that
fancy futon on the upper deck. Maybe we’ll see some deer come
to drink, like Scholar Ben did earlier.”
Hand in hand Tyler and Stella walked into their house, through
the lattice door, opened the thick blond bedroom door, closed it
snugly, then walked up the narrow steps, one ahead of the
other, into the upper bedroom. Tyler and Stella sat together on
the futon and watched the sun set.
Because they were deep in a hanging valley, the shadows of

evening were coming sooner than for the lands outside. In the
129
meantime, they watched several elk and deer, individually and

in small groups, exit the birch forests that surrounded the lake,
as they came to drink. The chickens were quiet, but their cow
mooed a few times. From time to time, if one of the forest
dwellers came too close to their house, the dogs barked a few
times.
“I must admit, Stella,” said Tyrel, “I am a bit impatient for the

sun to set. I think Scholar Ben mentioned more than once that
the night sky here is much more brilliant than on earth.”
Stella snuggled a bit closer to her husband and squealed, “I’m

thinkin’ the same and I can’t wait to see it!”
Meanwhile Padre’s group had been steadily climbing the trail to

his new compound. Early morning had faded into afternoon.
The group had stopped twice for short breaks, and once about
mid-day to heat up tea and share jerky. Padre had a small
package of dinosaur jerky and almost everyone present wanted
to try it for the novelty.
About three in the afternoon the group topped a slight rise and
entered a stretch of the mountain trail that was quite clear of
trees for a short distance. Suddenly the beautiful, willowy Wind-
Elk Sokolov pointed into the distance and squealed, “Zhere are
mammoths! I see mammoths!”
Everyone looked passed her shapely arm. Like the others who
had left the cold climes of the Nahanni Valley of Earth, in the
Northwest Territories of Canada, she had removed her overly
warm outer winter coat and extra layers of furs and shirts.
In the distance, dozens of hairy dark brown and black

mammoths were grazing the lush plains. From time to time a
shrill trumpet blast, dimmed by distance, reached their
attentive ears.
130
“Forsooth, we have many mammoths here. In the mountains we

do not see them. Occasionally though, small groups of them
will graze along the edges of the mountains, outside the barrel
tree barriers. I have seen huge herds of them in other places.
The one we are seeing now is a small heard. Occasionally you
will see a lone cow or bull or just a small family, but especially
in the plains, they group together for protection.
“The cows and calves, if you don’t hurt them or scare them, will
leave you alone. Stay away from the bulls though! Verily, if they
see or smell or hear you, they will smash you with their tusks,
throw you with their trunks or trample you. They are just as
mean and aggressive as one of those three horned Triceratops
dinosaurs! If you want to live, keep your distance!”
Chief Dancer had been about to ask what a triceratops dinosaur

was when Wind-Elk exclaimed, “You have ceratopians here? I
want to see zhem! Do you have styracosaurus dinosaurs, zhen
too, Padre?”
“Aye,” answered Padre. “We have them all. Not in the mountains
of course. Scholar Ben, my friend from Western Corstevah,
knows all about them.
“Forsooth, if I remember, the styracs have several horns that

fan out from their neck crest. Most of the ceratopsians have one
horn on their snouts or two on their heads. They are built like
the rhino of earth but have an armor frill around their necks
and have one to five horns on their heads. The triceratops here
have black and yellow bands of skin that helps them hide in
brush and they, unlike the others of the ceratopsians, are
omnivores. They will eat vegetation, but they will also hunt
animals and humans.
“Really! Triceratops is omnivorous?” exclaimed Wind-Elk.
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“I have several books about dinosaurs in my library. Well I did

anyway. I have a new library now. I can let you borrow them if
they are still there. Verily, I have telescope in my pack. I have
an overlook on the mountain. You can see the ring portal where
you entered Corstevah. I am sure that all manner of what you
consider prehistoric creatures, reptilian or mammalian, may
stroll by.”
Knight suddenly perked up, “My father had binoculars. They

are in his pack. His family from Scotland sent us expensive
presents every Christmas. They sent binoculars as a gift to
father as a present a few years ago.”
Wind-Elk responded, “I would like zhat, Padre. Zhere were

rumors zhat mammoths still live in Canada. I’ve never seen one.
Just zheir tusks. I saw a carcass zhat was taken from zhe ice,
back in Northern Canada. Zhe natives with us roasted some of
zhe meat and fed raw slices to zheir dogs. Batya, father,
wouldn’t let me try any; he was afraid it might make me ill.”
Chief Dancer said, “Chief Dancer has heard stories, too. The
Old Ones say that once there were many hairy elephants long
ago, before my grandfather’s time.”
Chief Laughing Otter added, “Laughing Otter knows! The Old

Ones say much stories about Nu’uti to our people.”
Padre called a break and removed his telescope from his pack,
then held it out to the group. Chief Dancer smiled, quickly
accepted the proffered tool, and used the scope to view the
faraway hairy pachyderms.”
He-Who-Dances-With-Caribou yipped and almost dropped the

spyglass. Chief Dancer laughed upon seeing that the hairy
pachyderms had not suddenly Far Traveled in front of him, like
a Far Traveling Padre. Once he had understood the principle of
the novelty, he did not fear that he was about to be gored or
trampled.
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“In the March 4th, 1893 edition of zhe Juneau Free press,”
declared Wind-Elk, “zhere was an article about mammoths. Zhe
article stated that a Stikine Indian followed the tracks of a large
mammoth, each one as round as a salt barrel, for several miles.
“The December 31st, edition of zhe Lawrence Daily Gazette, out

of Lawrence Kansas had an article zhat said, and I quote, it is
… ‘a well authenticated fact that a living mastodon has been
seen in zhe center of Alaska…, end quote.’ I have, I mean I had,
zhe articles in a box of papers back home. Do you think zhe
mammoths are coming to earth through zhese portals?”
Padre offered, “Mostly the portals will take animals and people
from earth and bring them here. There have been rare accounts
of the portals opening both ways, especially during storms like
each of you survived this morning. However, it is more likely
that in remote areas, some specimens of ancient animals
survived later than in highly populated areas.
“I’ll take back my seeing-glass now. We should keep moving.”
Wind-Elk looked as if she were about to ask another question

and did not head back to the ladies who were with the orphaned
First Nations toddlers, Raven and Mouse.
As the group continued up the mountain trail, Mounty LaClare,

caught his breath and worked through the pain of arising and
asked, “Are you quite certain, Padre, that we are forever cut off
from returning to earth?”
Padre looked back and squinted down at the Mounty, ran a

hand across his van dyke and said, “Forsooth, barring some
technology that Scholar Ben and I haven’t found, that is the
way of it. The portal type you just came through cannot take
you back.”
133
LaClare winced and continued, “Non! I am not at liberty to share

all I know on the subject. Oaths and contracts and all of that,
but as it looks like I am no longer a member of the Canadian
Royal Police, I will share this much. When Mounty Herbert
Alfred Joy was showing me the ropes, before leaving on the
expedition that Commissioner Aylesworth Bowen Perry
authorized along the top of northern Canada, we had a private,
off the record discussion.
“One of the things of which Sergeant Joy reminded me was that

I was to officially deny the existence of hairy hominids, as a
national security secret. As much as possible I was to cover up
any events and record it as an animal attack.
“Then I had been directed to send a seemingly innocent letter

about supplies, with a few key words worked into the message
to the commissioner. But only if the problem persisted. After
that, a specialized team would be sent privately to deal with the
problem. Joy said that other countries, like the United States,
also knew of the classified existence of several types of hairy
hominids. The commissioner had access to an elite group of
specially trained military soldiers to deal with that issue.
“Joy also said that from time to time that this group also had
been deployed to execute large troublesome marine creatures
that were a bit too bold - killing people or capsizing small to
medium watercraft.
“There were three reasons, besides mapping,” added LaClare,”

that my revered colleague was sent on that expedition. Allegedly
there was a mammoth sighting on an island south of Ellesmere,
in the Northwest Territories islands. There was also a rumor
about a living village of artic pygmies. Not at Skraeling Island,
which had both physical and archaeological remains that
another explorer discovered earlier, along with Viking remains.
I read that the small humanoids had been killed battling Viking
explorers. Joy was to investigate the other island and
reexamine Skraeling Island as well.”
134
Wind-Elk became excited at the mention of Ellesmere Island,

but scowled at Dexter, folding her arms across her chest, and
looked as if she had changed her mind about interjecting a
comment.
“Joy was also to attend a clandestine meeting, at one of those

two islands I mentioned with a copy of a book called Smoky God
and a map to a secret passage to an underground city. He had
been asked to deliver the book and map to an American explorer
and military man, Byrd. Byrd had fortean knowledge, which I
won’t discuss, which he traded in return to Joy, for
Commissioner Perry.”
“Forsooth, that sounds quite mysterious. I only know a little

about North America of your time, and not much about the
area, when I did live on earth,” commented Padre.
Wind-Elk exclaimed, “Smoky God! I heard zhat story! My batya

told me that was what Olaf Jansen called zhe sun of hollow
earth! My batya read some of zhat old man’s diary. Olaf was a
trader and fisherman, with his father, Jens Jansen. Olaf was a
half Russian, half Norseman, who sailed wizz his father, in the
early 1830’s to a village zhat had an entrance to an
underground city in hollow earth!”
LaClair looked confused, then scoffed, “I thought the book was

just a science fiction book! Hollow earth? How can the earth be
hollow?”
Wind-Elk snapped, “Durak!” crossed her arms and scowled.
Padre, raised an eyebrow, but ignored Wind-Elk’s expletive, that

had been interpreted by his universal translator and said, “I
don’t know about a hollow earth, but I have heard stories about
underground cities on earth, centuries ago, when I lived there,
and I have recently heard Scholar Ben say that there are at least
two underground cities on this planet.”
135
Dancing Caribou, from his position, back in line, chimed in,

“The Old One’s say that there is a hollow earth. Dancing
Caribou has been asking Creator to confirm that to me.”
Padre suddenly threw up his left hand and exclaimed, “Deja de

habler!”
The old but young-looking knight and ex-Templar forgot to

speak in the modern English taught to him by the archons and
Scholar Ben’s tutor, Ovineecci.
Since only about half the party was fluent in modern English
that was not particularly important anyway. He often used a
few Spanish words or Latin and a few scholarly phrases used
by his friend scholar Ben. His advanced technology translating
device, worked excellently at interpreting foreign languages; it
was not meant to interpret words for the others.
What Padre had not noticed was that a spiritual gift had started
operating at the pylons of Wolfshead Gate. The Native
Americans who had come through the portal from various time
lines of the Nahanni Valley region, were hearing his words as if
he were speaking their most fluent First Nations dialect and the
others had heard his exclamation in their particular brand of
English.
The party stopped talking and walking. Those who were not
naturally stoic showed expressions that ranged from puzzled to
confused.
Padre continued, “Forsooth, my danger sense is tingling! It

could be the narrowness of the trail at this point, but my gut
tells me it is more than that.”
Just ahead of the group, heading up the pass, the gravel trail
narrowed suddenly and the hilly forest of hardwoods on either
side of the trail had become a stony vertical drop that lead into
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deep twin valleys of mixed conifers and hardwoods. The trail

had narrowed to where two people might walk side by side, but
it would be safer to walk single file. The single file area was only
about thirty yards long, until the trail entered a depression in
the rock-face that heralded the entry into a larger path between
two sides of a sheer granite and quartz rise of grubby green and
pink that rose seventy feet into the skyline. Sixty feet into the
entry of the pass a dark cave loomed like a super-amalgamated
giant’s mouth on the left side.
“Winnamaka sees a cave ahead. Do you see it, Padre?” asked

Laughing Otter’s Yukon friend, the Yellowknife native,
Winnamaka. He pulled a yard long black-feathered arrow from
his quiver but did not yet place it in his bow.
“I see it.” Padre paused, “Warriors with bows, prepare your

weapons. Single file ahead, at my signal.
“Wind-Elk, please regroup the women and children back with

the travois! Wait there until we check out that cave! We do not
want to be attacked while crossing the dangerous section of
path just ahead. Mounty LaClare, go back and stay with the
travois, too.”
High Back Bull, who had been taking his turn assisting Knight
with the travois carrying McDermott’s body, lowered his end to
the ground.
Knight had a small bow which he removed from his quiver and
strung. He said, “I wish to join you, Padre.”
Padre cocked his head, “Verily lad, I know you are brave.
Knight, I watched you kill the small she-wolf, with your spear,
but you carry a small bow. I doubt it will be powerful enough to
seriously injure whatever is in that cave if it is a monster lair. I
would prefer that you stay and guard the women and children.
Most of the braves here have more powerful bows and larger
spears.”
137
Knight responded, “My bow is small, Padre, but it is not wooden

like those of the others. I have been watching. The others have
bone or flint arrowheads. My arrows, while shorter, to match
my bow, are tipped with steel. I am an excellent shot and my
range is at least as far as the Yellowknife’s war bow. A master
level craftsman who worked at my grandfather’s castle in the
Kingdom of Connacht crafted it from premium steel. We are
Irish rather than Scottish. We are, as the goblin-wolf surmised,
part of that clan McDermot.”
“Ahh,” said Padre, “those McDermot’s. I thought Cormac lost

that castle following an attack. I was still on earth back then,
but not for long.”
Knight nodded, “We did. But arms are not the only way to win
battles. My grandfather became wealthy, changed his name and
bought the castle, centuries later.”
Padre frowned then said, “Forsooth, I could be persuaded to let

you join my advance party, but who will stay and guard the
women, the injured and the children?”
High Back Bull grunted and offered, “High Back Bull lost bow
and spear coming here. Must be back in Nahanni Valley. I have
only skinning knife.”
“Forsooth, High Back Bull. I accept your substitution for

Knight.” He unslung his crossbow, cocked it and said,
“Advance group. Follow me.” Laughing Otter said, “Laughing
Otter is old as rock. Laughing Otter’s sight is dim. Laughing
Otter will also stay.”
Padre nodded as the McKenzie Mountain Band chief walked

back to the rear-guard group. Padre started to do the sign of the
cross, stopped himself and prayed in a normal voice, “Jesu
Christo help us.” Then he whispered, in 1611 King James
138
English, “Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my

hands to warre, and my fingers to fight.” Psalm 144:1 KJV.
Padre, Knight, Small Bear, Oskar Snow Owl, Medicine Horn,

Barnabas Hawkfeather, and McCloud, Otter’s son-in-law,
followed, weapons ready. They were almost half-way through
the narrow pass when a roar blasted from the cave and echoed
across the mountainside.
“It is an Ursus horribilis!” yelled Padre. “Don’t let it catch us on

the narrow pass!” Of course, the other warriors did not hear
the Latin taxonomical term, Ursus horribilis. They heard, in
their own language, something akin to “giant horrible fear-
inspiring grizzly.” Even Padre froze momentarily as the gigantic
bruin stormed from the cave mouth and leaped with
unbelievable agility down the descending mountain path and
slammed with a dust spraying stop at the mouth of the trail.
Eleven feet high at the shoulder, it braced itself on its four thick
hairy legs.
The giant grizzly stood upright; its dark brown fur mixed with
grizzled murky blond hairs that ruffled in the slight breeze that
whispered up over the steep stone walls. The prehistoric grizzly
stretched out to a towering twenty-two feet, growled, shook its
massive head, and pummeled the air with its paws.
“The path is narrow, maybe it cannot cross,” shouted Padre.

Before it could lower back onto all fours, the group fired.
Quickly, but being forced to aim carefully, so as to shoot the
bear and not each other, they attacked the gigantic bear.
Several arrows, including Padre’s bolt, hit the bruin in the
chest. It roared in pain but started forward as if unhindered by
the shots.
Dancing Caribou yelled “Creator help us!”
Medicine Horn screamed, “Medicine Horn ask, what we do? It

is medicine bear! It unhurt!”
139
Padre scowled and exclaimed, “Maleducado, Medicine Horn! It

bleeds heavily. Animals here soak up more damage and avoid
death longer than earth animals. Fire again!”
The bear strode determinedly, but carefully as it walked the

narrow ridge that fell a thousand feet on both sides.
Once again Padre and the natives fired. This time, only Padre
and Winnamaka scored hits. The bear grunted and wobbled,
almost within swatting distance.
Knight had not fired, but dropped to his knees and scooted
under Padre, then in the prone position fired two arrows
simultaneously at the grizzly’s right paw. Both arrows plunged
into the top of the massive clawed foot and pierced through the
carpal pads. The Ursus horribilis growled, snapped at the short,
feathered missiles, lost its balance, and fell, tumbling and
growling over the edge of the cliff. Ten seconds that seemed to
last forever ended with the massive beast bouncing through
pine tree branches that snapped like rifle shots. When it
slammed into the ground, the bear did not move.
Padre smiled at Knight and helped him up. Knight nodded at

Padre, eyes burning intensely, but said not a word.
“It is dead; thank you Creator!” exclaimed Chief Dancing

Caribou.
The bear growled and the sound echoed throughout the valley
below. However, following the growl, it seemed as if the great
beast moved one paw, raking sixteen-inch furrows into the
sandy loam of the forest floor, but after that it never moved or
growled again. Both groups peered into the vast drop off, over
the cliff’s edge, at the dim mass, at the bottom of the valley.
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“Yes, thank you Jesu Christo,” agreed Padre. He added,

“Forsooth, we had better check the cave just to be sure. I am
not feeling the danger sense now, but…”
The advance party checked out the cave. Padre put away the
crossbow on its harness hook. He then pulled an oil-soaked
torch out of a capped length of hollow bamboo from his pack.
Padre used a flint kit to ignite the torch wrappings.
Like any woodland bear den, it stank from layers of donut

shaped scat and decomposing flesh. The cavern was also full of
rotting meat and old bones, but otherwise was empty. Padre
thought, however, that there was a small outcropping of what
might be iron ore on a natural shelf along the back of the cave.
Oskar Snow-Owl poked a pile of fresh excrement with a stick.

“Hmph. Oskar Snow Owl’s uncle would do taste test. Oskar
Snow Owl will only do sniff and probe test. Red meat, berry
seeds, fish bones. Yes, big bear often hunted down below.
There are berry patches along the river there. We pass’em at
bottom, through tall tree border, not long after standing stones
circle.”
Chief Dancer said, “Does Chief Dancing Caribou remember

when Padre say, that the big carnivores couldn’t get into the
mountains?”
Padre frowned thoughtfully for a moment before responding,

“Verily, Chief Dancer, this is passing strange. Mayhap it
wandered up the trail as a cub before it was too large to fit
through the opening in the barrel tree border?” He added,
“Forsooth, we should collect the others and make our way up
to the compound.”
Not far up the trail the mountain cliff narrowed, and the rock
type changed. The mountainside became a dense polished
material of jet black, like dark ice, and rose over one hundred
feet. The strange outcropping of cliff-sides then ended abruptly
141
on both sides after about eighty meters. While the others could
squeeze through the narrow trail, once again Padre was forced
to use his Far Travel gift to vanish and appear farther up the
trail where his vast bulk could more easily travel.
The rest of the trip was uneventful as the group appeared at the
compound. Arthos, the holographic musketeer, was cooking a
deer over the spit in the cooking area between the men’s
barracks and the Native American camp.
Padre mused to himself, I know they can travel a small distance

from their projectors, but I did not know they could cook!
Padre motioned to the group to take seats at the tables around

the fire-pit area. “Welcome to my compound. This is one of my
trainers, Arthos. He looks real, but he is -how can I say it – not
real. I know this may make no sense but, Arthos d’Artigan is an
artificial construct of advanced technology. He trains, among
other things, how to shoot missile weapons, as well as conducts
spear and sword practice. Until today, I did not know he could
roast a deer.”
Even though the spiritual gift had translated his words to the
native speakers, they still looked very puzzled. Only Wind-Elk
seemed to intuitively understand. She was amazed rather than
confused.
Arthos, attired with his classic plumed hat and caped uniform
of a Dumas 17th century musketeer, bowed and answered with
a wry grin, “Magnifique! If that buck would not have pranced
into the compound, Padre, I would not be turning this fine
venison on the spit!”
“Are you an advanced technology construct of a Dumas

musketeer, Arthos?” asked Wind-Elk.
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“Felicitations, M’Lady! Or top marks, as our friend Scholar Ben

was wont to say, Miss?” replied Arthos, speculation ending his
sentence.
“Wind-Elk Sokolov is my name,” replied the Tlingit and Russian

lady. “Formerly from Sitka, Alaska, of earth, my batya was a
Russian ambassador who was zhe liaison to the local
government and zhe Russian-American Trading Company. I am
pleased to meet you, Arthos.”
Arthos, smiled, bowed once more, doffed his hat, and said, “The
pleasure was mine, M’Lady.”
D’Artigan pulled out a dagger, then cut and heaped chunks and
slices of the roasted venison and placed them on a wooden
trencher, then placed it on the table for passing, next to a plate
of sliced carrots and sweet peppers, that grew along the edges
of the compound.
Pointing to several carved wooden cups and a pitcher of well

water, the holographic musketeer smiled and said, “Welcome to
the Compound of Padre Nombre De Dios. Enjoy your repast. I
bid you welcome. I will return to my post at the training yard
with Sir Winthrop. If any of you would like training in missile
weapons or swords or spears, come visit us!”
Padre asked Chief Dancer to bless the food. Following the

prayer, they all shared the venison, carrots, orange sweet
peppers and water. Padre nibbled at a venison chop and
fumbled in his pack for the scroll that Jazz had given him earlier
in the morning and skimmed most of its contents.
As he pondered the instructions, Padre listened to the natives

of Chief Otter’s McKenzie Mountain Band and Chief Dancer’s
Slavey friends and family. The four ladies, including Wind-Elk
chattered amongst themselves and tended to the Kaska
toddlers, Raven and Mouse.
143
Knight sat quietly eating slices of meat and nibbling a carrot

stick. He glanced over at his father’s body several times but
remained quiet.
Padre rumbled a deep cough, then announced, “Forsooth, you

have my apologies, my friends. I do not have much to offer you
as a host.
“Today is the first day I came here to the compound. I lived in a

castle with Archon Jazz, who is one of two angelic beings on
this world who are responsible to watch over it for Jesu Christo,
or Creator, as Chief Dancer would say.
“I lived in a wing of Jazz Castle, in the North West mountains. I

arrived here only this morning. Just like when you saw me
disappear, I was there, and appeared at the opening of the
barrel tree border, I vanished from Jazz Castle and arrived here.
“The compound here is part of a mountain chain in the center

of the continent. The central mountain chain divides the
eastern side of the continent from the western side. I was a
knight warden responsible to help the guardians of this world.
On the eastern side I was sent out to rescue people like
yourselves, who were caught in portal storms and generally
keep the peace. Until today, this side of Corstevah has not had
a warden. I was sent to fulfill that position. I was a Knight
Warden of Corstevah for centuries before being sent here, on
the eastern side.
I know it may sound strange, but sometimes Jesu Christo will

give one a house-gift. My friend Scholar Ben, who you have
heard mentioned a few times today, was given a library in a
tower this morning. And from what I have been told, if you will
accept them, Jesu Christo has given you house-gifts as well.
Padre smiled, “And before you ask, Mounty LaClare, you will
not be given the fort.
144
“I have been noticing that you keep looking behind you, to the
east, at it. There is a lady physician who has not arrived yet,
who receives the fort as a gift. I have been told, dear Dexter,
that when she opens up the fort, you will have an office there.
For now, you will have a bunk in the men’s cabin near the
training center.”
“Oui, Padre, I had my eye on the fort. When I am not wandering

the wilderness, I am accustomed to working inside a fort.
“I take it the men’s cabin is the large log building directly to our
west, not too far from the training grounds and black smith
area? Is it the log cabin with the crossed spears and shields?
The big log cabin with the latticed archway flower porch, that
must be the ladies’ cabin. It’s near the tiniest castle I have ever
seen. Your castle I presume?”
Padre nodded, “Forsooth Dexter, that is my castle sight unseen.

It is a bit tiny, but it does have two towers and a moat.”
Nombre the Padre paused, then pointed outside of the

community pavilion to a long hut and several tipis that
surrounded it, “Like I said, forsooth, I have not seen it, but I
gather the long hut has three sections. An open area in the
center and two smaller areas in back. One is Chief Dancer’s
office and the other is Chief Otter’s office. There are several
tipis around the long house, and those are for families or braves
of Chief Dancer and Chief Otter’s band. And there are three
other long house and tipi villages, spread out over this
mountain chain, that some of their tribe will visit on a rotating
basis. As we rescue more people from the portals, some of them
will be given homes in the other Native American settlements,
but this village will be the chief village.
Wind-Elk, Deedra, Millie and Tolly have the women’s cabin.

There will be a room there for Raven and Mouse, too. Knight
has a place with Dexter in the men’s cabin, although he is free
to find a tipi in the camp of Dancer and Otter if he so desires.
145
Between the men’s cabin and Chief Dancer’s and Chief Otter’s
long hut, there is a laundry room and fire-pits for our
community. The Tiki hut is a chapel. It has a cross in it and
circled chairs. While the chapel is considered part of my house-
gift, I am willing to share it, but only for worship of Jesu Christo.
I will not suffer the worship of pagan deities and small g gods
there or in the cemetery, whether in the grave plot, or the Tree
Platform and Funeral Pyre lot.”
Knight chewed a sliver of orange sweet pepper and washed it

down with a draught of water. After placing the heavy wooden
tankard on the table, he asked, “Padre, I see an open grave,
back at the edge of the valley, between the men’s cabin and the
native village. Is that the place of rest you promised for my
father? If so, I would like to have a service for him before the
day is done. And I would like to stay in the men’s cabin, near
the training yard.”
“Forsooth, Knight, why don’t we all get settled in our quarters

and then meet in the chapel in about thirty minutes. We will
thank Jesu Christo for our house-gift and say words for your
father, Scotty McDermot, and then inter him in the earth.”
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CHAPTER 8:
THREE HOME WARMINGS AND A FUNERAL
Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in

me.
2
In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I
would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.
3
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and
receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.
John 14:1-3 (KJV).
As the rest of Padre’s companions scattered to investigate their

new homes, the former Knight Warden of Western Corstevah
ambled along the cobblestone path to his gift castle. Crossing
the moat, he looked over the edge of the draw bridge into the
waters of the creek that exited the moat and reappeared at the
edge of the mountain’s overlook. The silvery flash of fish darted
under the waters as Padre’s feet echoed along the new wooden
planks.
147
The door at the front of the castle was not a pair of double doors
large enough to offer egress for carriages, but was, none-the-
less, large, and sturdy, and easily admitted his bulky six-foot
five body.
He stepped into the chamber of the main castle. Padre was

greeted by three holographic figures, dressed in fine period
costumes of a male butler and two female serving maids. Upon
introducing themselves, all three promised to begin their duties
on the morrow’s dawn, then bowed gracefully and vanished.
Marble hallways ran east and west. Ahead was an eight-foot

archway into a large skylighted room. Sunlight whispered in
warm splashes along the finely polished wooden floor. Striding
briskly forward, Padre entered a large chamber set up like the
personal quarters of an ancient Persian dignitary. A large white
circular tent within the huge vaulted room contained a circle of
colorful couches and comfortable chairs along with exquisitely
crafted tables adorned with finely polished, wood, metal, and
terra cotta vases. Gem encrusted, feathered displays of knights
jousting or slaying dragons, in intricately carved wood and
pewter models, sat atop tables, while a few were life-sized
marble or bronze. Along the west wall, outside and a distance
from the carnival tent, was a large fireplace, and above it hung
an oil painting of Nombre’s castle, complete with drawbridge,
moat, and minareted towers, flags of azure and emerald,
brilliantly sun-kissed and snapping smartly, ruffled by a brisk
breeze. .
The walls up to about three feet were of polished granite

stonework of dark green, clustered with fine highlights of yellow
and red speckles, streaks, and swirls. Above the wainscoting,
the walls were made of blond polished timbers that ended in a
vaulted ceiling with a walkway overlook that circled the room
but did not have visible staircases. The ceiling contained
several skylights. Five stained glass windows of knightly scenes,
148
hunting, jousting, as well as, sword and mace tournaments,

were equidistantly spaced along the back wall.
Lamps of the same size, but of frosted orange and turquoise

stone, surrounded the walls of the room, but did not light as he
approached. Padre assumed that they would light as the room
darkened prior to the setting of the sun, which because the
compound was nestled in the basin of a mountain valley, would
come earlier than for the lands to the exterior of the mountain
stronghold.
Looking to the left and right upon entering the room, Padre
noticed two wardrobes and an armor and weapons closet. He
stopped momentarily and deposited his shield, katana, mace,
staff, and crossbow on iron hooks. After he placed his pack on
a table, Padre removed his helm and leather armor.
Padre grimaced at his soiled tunic and sniffed the stale odor of
sweat. “Forsooth,” he mumbled to himself, “I will need to find
my personal room, clean myself, and put on fresh clothing.”
Padre stretched, noting that the stiffness in his shoulder, from

the Nahanni Valley chimera-wolf’s punch that had damaged his
shield, had almost completed its healing. His new youth and
the invigorating air and consumption of the highly nutritious
food of the planet was unparalleled in its ability to quickly heal
wounds and reverse disease.
Nombre De Dios strolled briskly under the large white tent.

Lamps, contained in tall metal columns, held what appeared to
be rough wooden torches interned in iron sconces, that
automatically lit inside the room as he approached. He cocked
his head to one side, then snaked a hand near the flames. When
he did not feel warmth, Padre carefully tested the crackling
snapping yellow display and found that it was merely an
illusion.
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“Thank you for your gift, Jesu Christo,” said Padre with a smile
as he exited the tent and walked to the back of the room. To
the west was an ornately polished ebony library bookcase,
seven feet high, on one wall. It contained an attached sliding
ladder. Fine leather chairs sat beside beautifully polished ebony
tables. Padre nodded and smiled as he walked through the four
stations of round tables and chairs of the reading room.
However, he had not lingered long, wanting to explore the large

table which resembled a three-dimensional topical map that
was sequestered at the eastern expanse of his library. The map
table was elevated on a raised dais about three feet above the
floor. There was about one meter of open space along both walls
that allowed one to easily walk around it. The display was over
two meters wide and many meters long. It was a map of eastern
Corstevah. Five life-like and exquisite pictures of the Cone
Circles, like Wolfshead Portal, which he had visited earlier in
the morning, prior to the dramatic rescue of Knight, Dexter,
Wind-Elk, Tolly, Deedra, Millie, Lydia and Chief Dancer’s and
Chief Otter’s bands, were hanging on the wall like works of art.
Each appeared to have two gems, one green and the other white,
upon the bottom of each frame. Upon closer inspection, Padre
found that two were actually exquisitely lifelike paintings.
Padre walked over to the first portal photo, examined it more

closely, then hesitantly touched the green gem. The
corresponding portal lit up on the horizonal topographical map
and began to beep. Padre turned and located the position on
the map, then touched the green gem. The light emanation and
beeping from the tabletop map stopped. Padre touched the
white button. A holographic image of the portal appeared in the
area of the castle between the library and the map room.
The former knight walked over and stood in the center of the
hologram. He could see around him, just as if he were at the
center of the stone portal ring. Circling in place he noticed a
small pond with an up thrusted gray spire, surrounded by lily
pads, that was not visible in the picture. He also noticed an
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ascending rise of pools and streams that flowed down from a

high hill of wooded copses and giant boulders, where a top ridge
of rock that resembled the ruins of a castle, graced the top of
the great tor. Padre concentrated on the mental picture, prayed
the Far Travel prayer and he was there instantly. He listened to
the trilling of frogs that sat upon the lily pads, basking in the
sun, waiting for small insects. The warm breeze licked his face.
Padre heard a distinct plop as one of the frogs jumped from the
lily pad and smacked the water.
The concentrated circles that formed the print on the stones

was very dim as such portals were when quiet. Padre prayed
again, to return to his library and reappeared next to the portal
photo. He touched the white gem and the hologram of the portal
vanished. A label appeared on the frame that said, “Lilly Pad
Pond Portal.”
Padre walked around the map table and found a map legend.
He perused its message.
 YOU ARE HERE: BLINKING WHITE LIGHT

 BLACK OVAL: PADRE’S MOUNTAIN COMPOUND
 GREEN CIRCLES: FOUR NATIVE AMERICAN GIFT
LODGES
 BLINKING CRYSTAL CONE CIRCLES: WORKING
PORTALS
 GLOWING CHIMING PORTALS: PREPARING TO
ACTIVATE- INVESTIGATE!
 RED GLOWING PORTALS: DO NOT INVESTIGATE!
Upon reading the legend, Padre peered at the map until he

found the blinking white light that was a small white gem on
the tiny gray castle model on the topographical map. A black
oval encircled the mountain valley of his compound. Small life-
like models of the Native American village, the men’s dorm,
women’s dorm, Winthrop’s and Arthos’ training compound, Fort
Wallace, the community cooking and laundry area, cemetery
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and the Tiki Hut Chapel, each had their own three-dimensional
representation within the marked oval.
Padre mumbled, “I will need to return, forsooth, and examine

this map room again. For now, I need to go find a place to clean
up and change clothes for Knight’s father’s funeral.”
Nombre walked away from the map room, passed under his tent
sitting room, and exited the archway into the marble floored
hallway. Dithering momentarily, Padre finally turned west and
walked toward the western tower. He came to a door. Padre
shook his head and mumbled, “Forsooth, where is the blasted
doorknob?” He tried pushing the door. Nothing happened.
Next, Padre grasped the door frame on the left and pulled. Then
he tried the right side. Nothing.
Padre knocked dramatically. “Butler and maids, por favor?

Hola, anyone?” It was then that Padre noticed two eye symbols
faintly etched into the stone doorway of the castle tower about
five and a half feet above the floor and a small round indentation
about two inches below. Padre poked at the small hole with a
broad pointer finger and then peered at it. Nothing happened.
With a dramatic flailing of his arms Padre growled, “I can’t even
figure out how to open the door to my own castle!”
With a sigh he walked east along the hallway. When he came

to the door of that tower and saw that it looked the same as the
other, he threw up his hands frustratedly, sighed even louder
and exclaimed, “Maleducado!”
He noticed that something seemed different about the door and

curious, he examined it more closely.
“Verily, the circular indentation is wider. I can place my finger

into it. It is also about six feet above the floor to the eye symbols.
Padre stood back, fingered his goatee, looked thoughtfully at
the hole under the eyes and stepped forward. He leaned in and
pressed his nose into the hole. There was a flash of light and a
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tingling around his eyes. With a creaking groan, the stone door
slid sideways into the wall, then closed again as Padre stepped
across the threshold.
Padre grinned, “Thank you Jesu! Forsooth, I must apologize for

my crankiness. I really do love the gift-house you have given
me!”
The first floor had a bathroom and a small sitting room.

Upstairs was a fine hunting green and burgundy, and black
shrouded, canopy bed. Wardrobes and chests hugged the circle
of the walls. Opening the wardrobe, he found the Spanish style
silk shirts and, both corduroy and woolen slacks that he favored
for dress up occasions.
Another wardrobe had simple tunics and leather “everyday”

clothing. He sat a fresh change of special occasion clothes onto
the bed, then disrobed, draped the cloak that was hanging on
the hook on the left door of the wardrobe, over his massive
frame, then sauntered off to the bathroom.
The bathroom was almost identical to the one he had been

accustomed to at Jazz Castle. Following his French bath, he
shaved with the ancient technology razor and cleaned his teeth
with another ancient technology device. Although cavities
healed on Corstevah, until shortly before one’s body began
shutting down, Padre enjoyed displaying a bright smile and
wished to avoid the burdens of simple chronic halitosis.
After returning to his room to change clothes, Padre Nombre

exited his castle and strolled easily into his chapel.
A tray of cheese and fruit had been placed on the communion

table. There was a note in the basket that said, “To our friend
Padre Nombre. We hope that you enjoy your compound and
Elohim’s gift-house. Best wishes, Jazz and Jedd.”
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Padre looked around the Tiki Hut chapel as the others strolled
from their gift houses toward the sanctuary. Open windows
surrounded the circular hut. The building was about thirty feet
in circumference. The entrance archway viewed Fort Wallace.
Opposite the doorway was a seven-foot cross.
Nombre sampled a cheese stick and opened a large wardrobe

next to the communion table. It contained small shakers,
tambourines, bells, flutes, guitars, banjoes, a zither, and a few
harps. Two pull out drawers contained a hammered dulcimer
and a digital organ powered by an energy crystal.
Twenty-four chairs arranged in a circle, separated by small

wooden tables, were placed in the center of the room. Each
table contained a thick leather book, two thinner bound
volumes and a slim metallic object with a glassy surface that
was about half an inch thick, eleven inches long and nine
inches wide.
Padre walked into one of the four entries of the chair circle as
Wind-Elk, Tolly, Deedra, Millie and Lydia, with Raven and
Mouse in tow, entered the hut.
Nombre smiled and beckoned with his large scarred hands at

the food tray. He picked up the large leather-bound book and
read the title as the five women entered the Tiki Hut.
The Bible was entitled, “Holy Bible,” but the sub-title read
“Padre Nombre de Dios Parallel Gift Translation.” Quickly
fanning a few of its thin gold edged pages, he noted that it was
divided into four columns. The first column was a King James
Translation. The second was entitled English Standard
Version. The third column contained the original language in
Hebrew, or Aramaic or Greek. The fourth column of the Old
Testament also included the Septuagint version.
“Hola! Help yourself to refreshments,” offered Padre as he gently

sat the Bible back on the table.
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Deedra said, “Thank you. Perhaps later for me. We had fresh
cut flowers and a fruit and cheese basket in our lodge, too.”
Wind-Elk asked, “Who are Jazz and Jedd? The note wizz our
basket was signed wizz zhose names, although zhe note said
zhe gifts had actually been provided by Zhe Lord Most High and
His Unique Son, Jesus zhe Christ.”
Padre nodded, “They are the two divine beings that were placed
in charge of watching over planet Corstevah. Unlike the
Watchers and other entities that we read about in the
scriptures, they take their responsibilities seriously and have
avoided the temptations of unholy, unnatural dalliances or
accepting worship.”
The Slavey and McKenzie Bands, who had been crossing the
area of the compound which contained the general food pavilion
and laundry, began entering.
Laughing Otter said, “Laughing Otter is pleased with gift-home,

Padre! Laughing Otter had food gifts, too.” They surrounded
the food platter on the communion table and chattered about
their gift-homes.
Padre glanced through the open windows of the hut to ascertain

if the others were coming. Dexter and Knight were joined by Sir
Winthrop and Arthos as they passed the training compound
and smithy.
Mouse, timidly peeking from behind the Russian-Tinglat

princess, tugged at Wind-Elk’s new black dress and asked,
“What is that?” She pointed at colorful woven rugs located in
three sections at the edge of the room. Each area had a wicker
basket with colorful books and a few toys.
Wind-Elk walked casually towards one of the rug areas with

Mouse. Raven hesitated and followed. She motioned for them to
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sit down. The two Kaska toddlers began examining the colorful
books of Bible stories and checking out the dolls, alphabet
blocks and Noah’s Ark boat and figurine set.
Millie Snow-Hare McByers followed. She said, wrinkling her

tiny triangle nose like a bunny, “I am not much for social events.
I will stay here with Raven and Mouse.” The young Metis woman
sat down beside the brother and sister, but also watched and
listened to the conversations of those gathered in the chapel.
Padre greeted Chief Dancing Caribou, then added, “I plan on

having informal meetings here almost daily to pray, sing or read
scripture together. I am not very formal or traditional in my
approach to having a gathering, and even though I am called
Padre, I consider myself to be part of a plurality of elders. If you
read Acts chapter twenty or Titus one, you may see what I am
getting at.”
Chief Dancing Caribou replied, “Dancer visited some services at

the forts in the Nahanni Valley, but the preachers did not seem
to follow that. Dancer was seeing it that way, like you are talking
about, but the ministers told me that they had been trained and
that I had not. It was confusing.”
Padre nodded thoughtfully. “The angels who trained me often

spoke of ‘the traditions of men.” Just like the Pharisees of Jesus
day had quaint traditions, that were not actually in agreement
with scripture, they said the Christian churches throughout the
ages on Earth tended to do the same thing.
“The angels said that if their heart is right, the Most High
honors peoples gatherings, but he actually prefers when we
meet in small groups informally, like they did in the New
Testament. We should study these things together, Dancer,
and see if we can work as a team.
“Do you have any scripture you can share today, during the
funeral service? You also knew Scotty McDermot. I just know
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about him from little bits I have heard and through meeting his
son.”
Chief Dancer replied, “Chief Dancer did not know him long.
Scotty was a good man. Most white men look down on First
Nations people like me. Scotty was not like that. He was
honorable and fair.
“As for the funeral, I have a verse to share. It was used at a few
of the white-man funerals I went to back in the Nahanni Valley.
It is Psalm twenty-three. I lost my Bible on the crossing, but I
can quote that scripture by heart.”
“Good,” replied Padre with a nod of his head. “I see that Dexter
and Knight have entered. I will ask Knight to sit by me and
share about his father. I will ask you to share, as well Dancer.
Then I will share some scriptures that I feel to be appropriate
and then offer others a chance to share.”
Padre cleared his throat to get every one’s attention. “Please

come into the circle. Find a place to sit. Knight, would you come
sit by me?”
Knight faltered but came to sit by Padre. Momentarily the

native adults from both bands seated themselves around the
circle. The ladies, except for Millie, who stayed with Raven and
Mouse, found seats. Winnamaka was the last man to enter the
circle and sat not too far from Chief Laughing Otter.
“Forsooth, we are gathered here today to honor our friend,

Knight’s father, Scotty McDermot. Lord Most High, please be
with us today and comfort us, especially Knight, in our loss.
Our one comfort, among many is this. Paul the Apostle said in
chapter five of second Corinthians, at the 8 th verse, ‘We are
confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body,
and to be present with the Lord.’ Thank you, Jesu Christo, for
that comfort.”
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Padre paused and scanned the faces around the circle, “Does
anyone here have a song they would like to sing in Scotty
McDermot’s honor. There was silence for almost a minute, then
Wind-Elk asked, “Do you mind if I share zhe song, “In zhe Sweet
Bye and Bye? Anyone who knows it may join me.”
Arthos, the advanced technology construct, said “That song is

in the electronic tablet on the tables, M’Lady! Let me show you,
Miss Wind-Elk! You can just think the song or hold the unit and
say the name of the song out loud.”
The Dumas Musketeer hologram picked up the slim rectangular

silver rectangle and asked, “Are you ready Miss Sokolov? Pick
up the device. Look at the crystal screen and say the name of
the song.” Many of those present, including Padre looked at the
enigmatic mechanism, like the one Wind-Elk had collected from
the small book table shared by each pair of chairs, but only the
Russian-Tinglat princess picked up the device to use it.
Wind-Elk, with equal measures of curiosity and anxiety, picked

up the metallic and crystal screened unit, and said tremulously,
‘In zhe Sweet By and By.’ After a few seconds, the song
appeared on the screen, followed by the music, in a
presentation style much like modern earth’s karaoke machines.
‘“Zhere’s a land zhat is fairer than day, and by faith we can see
it afar; for zhe Father waits over zhe way, to prepare us a
dwelling place zhere…’”
While many of the native Americans, except for Chief Dancer’s

family, had never heard the song before; to their bewilderment,
they understood her words as if Wind-Elk had been singing the
words in their own tongue. Some of them were happy and awed
by the miracle, while others, like Winnamaka, Medicine Horn
and Barnabas Hawkfeather were mildly afraid. Raven and
Mouse had instantly dropped their books and toys, fascinated
by the crisp melodious orchestrations of music that came from
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no discernable direction and flooded the interior of the Tiki Hut

Chapel.
Padre said, “I have a passage of scripture that I will share and

then I will share a few words. Following that, I will ask Knight
McDermot, to share with us about his father Scotty.
“If any of you wish to follow along, in the Bibles at your tables,
you may do so as I read the first three verses of the Gospel of
John. I will, forsooth, be using the ESV translation from that
book. Sometimes I read from a King James.
“When Scholar Ben and I were being trained we were often

taught from the English Standard Version so that we would
familiarize ourselves with modern English. We were told that
many we would rescue, from the portals or elsewhere, would
speak a modern style of that language, rather than that used in
the standard KJV, 1611 or Geneva Bibles.
“And verily, before I digress further, the words of John 14:1-3,

‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe
also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not
so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a
place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come
back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I
am.’
“Forsooth, I was not privileged to know the man, Scotty

McDermot. I did hear a few interesting stories about him today.
He was a caring father and a good husband. He believed in
Jesu Christo. McDermot was a noble by birth and one that
characterized that class of people in the best light, while
walking in great honor and humility among all classes and
races. He taught his son early, to walk in strength, while being
steadfastly compassionate. McDermot taught his son the
weapons of war, and more than one language of men. He also
read a book of knight’s tales that taught his son Knight bravery
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and honor and how to best serve The Most High God, King and
country and friends and family.
“We know how Scotty McDermot walked in life and we know

where he has gone. I am reminded of the fifty-seventh book of
Isaiah, in the first and second verses.” He picked up the Bible
from the table beside him and read, “‘The righteous perish, and
no one takes it to heart; the devout are taken away, and no one
understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared
from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find
rest as they lie in death.’
“Even though Scotty McDermot has died, and we will miss him,
he has merely shed his earthly habitation.
“While his soul slumbers, his spirit is present with Jesus until
the great and magnificent day when the dead in Christ rise to
meet the living in the air at the time of Jesu Christo triumphal
return to Earth as Lord and King.
“How that will work for us exactly, who have been translated
from Earth to planet Corstevah, I am not certain.
“Verily, verily, what I am certain about is trusting in the Most

High Elohim’s salvation, through His Unique Son, Jesu Christo.
“Each of you present here, as we celebrate the homecoming of

Scotty McDermot, if you sincerely repent, as the Father calls
you into His Kingdom, and you believe through the finished
work of Jesu Christo, has the same opportunity. I encourage
you, do not neglect such a great salvation, the only way, to truly
enter the Kingdom of Jesu Christo.
I will now ask Knight to share about his father. After Knight
has shared, Chief Dancing Caribou will share scripture and
then share his heart, for his dear, but short-lived friendship
with Scotty McDermot. Then Dancer will open up the gathering
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for any others who wish to share. Then we will walk to the
cemetery and share together in the last soils ritual.”
Knight stood gracefully to his feet. Standing five-six in his new

doe-skin moccasins, beaded buckskin jacket and tan corduroy
trousers that had been part of his house-gift, he said, “Even
though my father taught me three languages, as well as arts
and sciences, I do not know what to say.
“My eyes well with tears. My throat burns.
“Father was a strong man and kind as well as friendly and

honest. He was born in a line of ancient kings and even though
he preferred to live among commoners in the remoteness of the
Nahanni Valley, his heart was more noble than that of the
knights in the book he read to me almost every night.
“Of course, we read from his Bible every day, as well. My mother
was a Metis Medicine Woman, but she came to serve Jesus
Christ rather than the small g gods. She told my father that
her gifts for knowing the future were gone, but that the Holy
Spirit had told her that she would bear a son who would be a
knight just like in my father’s book. Mother also said that she
would depart our world when it was her time, under the paws
of an angry mother bear.
“My father lost his strength, physically, after her death, but he
loved Jesus, he loved me, and sought to impart his many gifts
to help me become ready for the mission Jesus had for me.” He
sat down.
Chief Caribou read the Lord’s Prayer in English, using the KJV
translation by rote:
The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me
beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of
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righteousness for His name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I
will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff,
they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine

enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth
over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days
of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Chief Dancer then repeated each line of Psalm 23 in his native

tongue.
The Slavey Band Chief said, “Chief Dancing Caribou only met
Scotty McDermot a few months ago. Chief Dancing Caribou’s
tribe asked me to leave and appointed a new chief. Chief
Dancer had argued with one of the elders because Creator,
through His Holy Spirit, had convicted me of throwing food
offerings to the small g gods into the night fires. Our band
decided that I would be chief, but only with those who would
follow me and that my tribe would leave with me, with only our
weapons and before the moon entered the sky. We were
banished.
“My wife, Squatting Beaver, our children, and her mother,

Dene. You say her first name Den-nee. First part fast, second
syllable slow. Strong-Oak is a Medicine Woman. She came with
us following our banishment.
“Four braves came with us, Oskar Snow Owl, Medicine Horn,
High Back Buffalo and Hawk, that is youngling Barny
Hawkfeather.
“Chief Dancer had felt Creator had said to go to Fort Liard. We

made traps along the way and hunted animals for food and
trade.
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“Creator blessed us, and we caught many furs. The fort bought
some of our furs, but not all. They would not let us stay at the
fort, even for just the winter.
“We met Scotty McDermot there at a funeral for one of the fort
guards. When Scotty found out I served Creator, he invited us
to come with him and stay at his trading post near Fort
Simpson.
“He was a good man. He treated us well, with kindness and

fairness. We had many talks about Creator and his book
throughout the days and into the night.
“We were almost to his trading post. Winter came harsh and
early. We were crossing a frozen lake when he fell in. We
stripped his wet clothes and wrapped him in wool blankets and
made a roaring fire, but he became sick.
“Grandmother’s medicines did not help him. Prayers did not

help either. It must have been time for Scotty to go be with
Jesus.
“And then the portal storm captured us and brought us to your

world,” he turned and looked sorrowfully at Padre. Last he
turned to Knight, “I am sorry for your loss, Knight. Your father
was the only white-man friend I have ever had, and I miss him
greatly.”
Knight nodded solemnly, eyes burning intensely, but said

nothing.
Chief Dancing Caribou gazed around the circle. “Would anyone

else like to share before we go to the grave area?”
Chief Laughing Otter intoned thoughtfully, “Laughing Otter

never met the man, Scotty McDermot, but what Laughing Otter
is hearing will not be forgotten. And these words we share today
will be passed down in our tribal stories. The Old One’s said,
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‘you can tell a great man by the children and friends he leaves
behind. Especially those who make great tracks, too.’
“I have watched you today, Chief Dancing Caribou and watched

the skill and honor of McDermot’s son. Chief Laughing Otter
predicts that each in his own way, both of you will make great
tracks on the plains and in the mountains of this new land.”
Winnamaka smiled, “Good words Chief Otter. Winnamaka the

Yukon agrees. Winnamaka is not one for joys of camp. Small
periods of time only. Winnamaka will travel before sun awakes.
Winnamaka will go while the moon is dim. Winnamaka will
scout other camps. When Winnamaka visits again, he would
hear more. More stories of Scotty McDermot. More stories of son
Knight. More stories of Chief Dancer.”
Padre said, “Thank you for your kind and honorable words,
Winnamaka. To stay or go is a person’s choice where I am
Knight Warden. Whenever we rescued the portal victims, they
were always to have the freewill to choose which settlement they
wanted to try. A few even went to Bandit settlements, but it was
their choice for good or ill.”
Barnabas Hawkfeather spoke up, “Hawk, too would explore this

mountain. Would you, Winnimaka, permit Hawk to travel with
you?”
“Maybe yes. Maybe no,” replied Winnamaka. “Winnamaka say,

‘If you not keep up, you must go on alone or go back. Your
choice, Slavey warrior.’”
Barnabas Hawkfeather nodded, “Let it be so, Yellow Knife

warrior.”
Padre said as he arose, “Forsooth, let us go to the grave site.

There I will share one final section of scripture and if someone
has one, a final song for our dearly beloved friend, Knight’s
father, Scotty McDermot.”
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Nombre gazed briefly at each face. Forsooth, Dexter is as quiet

as the four Metis women. Well, Deedra McKay is quite sociable,
he thought to himself. Is it the death, the pain or something else?
Knight spoke as they were leaving, “High Back Bull and I have
already placed father in the casket and we lowered it into place,
but we did not cover him with the earth blanket.”
High Back Bull grunted, “High Back Bull says, youngling

Knight is already strong bull. What kind of strong he be in this
many fingers of years?” High Back Bull looked around the group
and lifted one hand and waved it. He then walked over to the
fruit basket, snatched up the last apple, and exited the Tiki Hut,
biting into the crisp sweet red fruit with relish. The group
followed.
Dancer asked, as he nudged his wife, Bee, “What is that song

of departing that the Old One’s used to sing? Do you know it.”
Not in English, husband, but I can sing it in Slavey. “Do it then.

Chief Dancer thinks it would be good for Scotty’s passing
celebration and to honor his son.”
When they arrived, Padre opened his Bible and read, “Who will
separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress,
or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through
him who loved us.
“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels,

nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all
creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in
Christ Jesus our Lord. Roman 8:35, 37 and 39.”
165
Following a pause Padre added, ‘A bove majori discit arare

minor - The young ox learns to plough from the older.’
Padre smiled at Knight and said, using the words of Paul the
Apostle, ‘Follow me, as I follow Christ.”
Nombre then took the shovel, shoved the metal blade in the
fresh black loam and sprinkled it into the open grave onto the
coffin. Afterwards he passed the shovel to Knight. The young
son of the deceased Scotty McDermot passed the shovel to
High Back Bull. High Back Bull tossed his apple core into the
dirt, spaded in a shovel full of soil, and passed the tool on. As
the shovel was passed to each adult, Bee, wife of Chief
Dancing Caribou, sang the Old One’s song for the journey into
the realm of Creator, God above all other gods.
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Chapter 9:
Night Fall at Rainbow Willow Lake
Lift up your eyes on high and see:

who created these?
He who brings out their host by number,
calling them all by name;
by the greatness of his might
and because he is strong in power,
not one is missing.
Isaiah 40:26
Tyler and Stella sat on their futon, in the upper room of their
Greek Island cottage, holding hands, staring in amazement at
their first view of the night sky.
As it was with every night, the sky canopy focused the planet’s
dome like a crystal which provided a lush starscape of
breathtaking beauty and brilliance.
On those occasions where northern or southern lights escaped

from the openings at the top and bottom of the poles, there was
an incredible symphonic humming, which often gently
overshadowed the beautiful nightly trilling of insects, frogs, and
tuataras, creating an unbelievable and enchanting orchestral
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masterpiece, as if a grand maestro played rows of fine crystal

wine glasses, to perform a magnum opus moonlight sonata.
After an hour, Tyrel cleared his throat. “As beautiful as the

skies are here in our new home at night, Lovie, it has been a
long day.”
“Yes, Ty it has. I keep thinkin’ this is a dream, and I am gonna

wake up, back in our house, in the middle of winter in Dallas,
Wisconsin.”
Tyler gently kissed Stella’s cheek. “I am going to bed, Lovie.”
“Okey Dokey,” whispered Stella, releasing her husband’s arm

and staring into the starry night.
Tyler fumbled his way carefully off the raised platform and
eased into the nearby canopy bed. He fell asleep after taking
one final peek at his wife’s silhouette as she gazed into the night
sky.
Stella listened intently, enraptured by the natural musical piece

that would last until the fiery, dusky velvet and orange sunrise,
would provide one last crescendo. Like a child lost in the wonder
of a magical moment Stella watched the skies except when an
animal or two would briefly arrest her attention as they came to
the edge of the lake to drink.
While time and exposure had dulled the enchantment for many
of Corstevah’s sentient residents, the joy of this nightly
phenomenon never grew old for Stella.
“I really need to go to bed. It wouldn’t be right. Not at all, if I fall

asleep on the futon, instead of by my husband’s side.”
Stella carefully joined her husband in the canopy bed but

stared, over his rising and falling chest, and through the elegant
shadowy draping of the canopy curtains, at the enchanting
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night sky for a long while. When she finally fell asleep, she could
not recollect. Before she slept, Stella revisited in her mind, more
than once, the mysterious events of the day. Just before Stella
finally drifted off, she wondered when Scholar Ben would visit
again and what she would need to do to help her husband with
the new mission or ministry
169
170
Chapter 10:
SESER TECH
“
And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring
them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one
flock, one shepherd.
John 10:16 KJV
Rejoice not over me, O my enemy;

when I fall, I shall rise;
when I sit in darkness,
the LORD will be a light to me.
Micah 7:8 KJV
Padre Nombre De Dios visited his chapel not long after sunrise.
There had been one small room in his tower with both a chair
and small table with a bible and kneeling mat, but the sense
that he had had upon entering that room was that it was a
prayer closet. A room only for him and Jesu Christo.
His tiki chapel was to be a place of community where he shared

with brothers and sisters of the flock and others who visited or
resided at his compound in a wider social and fellowship
context. Following prayer and reading from the gift Bible, in the
circle of chairs within the open architecture of the Tiki Hut
Chapel, he pulled out the scroll that the archons had given him
only about twenty-four hours earlier.
Just as he was about to open it, Winthrop and Arthos strolled

into the tiki hut chapel.
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“Good morning to thee, Padre,” smiled Knight Winthrop.

“Knight was practicing with us this morning. Thine apprentice
dost show great potential for one so young. He said he will come
to the chapel shortly.”
Arthos presented a slight bow and doffed his feathered hat in

Nombre’s direction.
“Hola,” said Padre.
Winthrop and Arthos sat in the chair circle. Winthrop sat a fine
mahogany locked box and key on the small table that was
located between his chair and Padre.
“Yon box contains thy new weapon, Padre. It is a Seser device,

or so I am told.”
“Forsooth, my good Knight Commander, what pray-tell is a

Seser device? You tantalized me yesterday, with mysterious
terseness about the fabled artifact and refused to provide any
details.”
“I will tell thee what I know, my dear Knight Warden Captain.

The archons, as usual, provided precious little intel, to use their
word. Whether they say little or confabulate a mile-long scroll,
at times their cryptic explanations defy explanation.
“Suffice it to say, it is an ancient technology artifact that was

rescued from the deepest ruins of The Lost City only recently.
Thee were warned to be very careful with it. And never use it
near a portal. Two of them used together have literally leveled
mountains. If you attack a portal with it, or so I have been told,
the explosion will be several miles wide and deep. As powerful
as the items are, unlike any other artifacts I have heard of
Padre, they are also fragile. This is the only unit thee have been
given; do be careful, Padre.”
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“Verily, Winthrop, I understand it is a legendary weapon. How

does one use it and not use it?” asked Padre.
Arthos smiled and interjected, “I was given a plastic model of

the device and shown how to demonstrate its usage. You will
need to find a place off and away from the compound, dear
Padre, to familiarize yourself with its use. I was very distinctly
warned that we may use the plastic model in the training
ground or on the compound, but the device itself must be used
away from this village, and carefully, Padre.”
Padre nodded grimly.
Arthos tossed his cape back over his chair. Next, he removed
his feathered hat and placed it on the small table next to his
chair. A breeze that blew softly over the open walls of the round
thatched tiki hut tickled the red feather gently.
The musketeer untied two leather bags that had been fastened
by thongs to a utility and weapons harness he had been wearing
over his light leather armor. Arthos sat the leather bags next to
his hat. From the first he pulled out a rectangular four by six-
inch box, about an inch thick, attached to a chain. Arthos said,
“Observe carefully, dear Padre. One side of the box has a
latched door. When wearing the device, be sure that the side
with the door is facing away from you.”
Arthos placed the plastic chain around his neck. “Only unlatch
and open the door when you are going to use the device.
Otherwise keep the door locked.”
Padre sighed and nodded.
Arthos opened the other leather bag and removed two small
capped cylinders about four inches long and two inches in
diameter. He removed a cone shaped object from each cylinder.
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He continued, “Next I will remove the cones. Notice that the

stone cones are like miniature versions of portal cones. They
even have the same geometric patterns as a portal cone. As you
can see this is a plastic model of the device. The real cones may
be taken out of their protective cylinders for as long as an hour.
“You may keep one cone in each pocket, and as long as your
body separates them, they are safe to carry in your pocket.
However, never take the stone cones out and leave them sitting
around. These are sound and energy devices. They create a
vibration. Any stone or metal, including both cones, will begin
to crack and crumble after being exposed for periods of time
longer than one hour.
“If you have the door open on the necklace the probability of
shattering one or more of the components, or other items, is
greatly intensified.”
“Are you certain the vibration isn’t dangerous to me,” asked

Padre anxiously.
Arthos closed his eyes momentarily. “I have accessed the

information in my programming. Non, if you follow the simple
safety protocols, you will not be harmed,” answered Arthos.”
The musketeer opened the door on the necklace. It revealed a
gray stone shaped like a donut but bearing the geometric shape
patterns of the portal cones on its surface.”
Arthos arose from the chair, picked up the small cones, one in
each hand. Notice dear Padre, that I am holding each cone with
the pointed end firmly grasped in each hand with the flat end
of the cone, facing out of my hands and away from you, Padre
and Winthrop. If you are holding the real stone cones, only
point them at an enemy or a safe target.
“Keep in mind that the range is quite distant, possibly a half

mile or more. The energy field starts out at two inches in
diameter and increases in a double cone shape to well over
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thirty yards by the time the full range is reached. You aim by
positioning your hands with the flat ends of the cones focused
on the target. Where the two fields connect the energy and
sound combine. The archon said that this produces a pulse
cannon effect.
“With prolonged exposure one can crumble or even disintegrate

rock and metal. If used carefully, however, it is actually a non-
lethal weapon. Its raison d’ etre is for knocking down and
scaring away large animals like charging wooly mammoths and
T-Rexes.
“However, if the energy pulse hits smaller living creatures, such

as humans or deer, they instantly turn into stone. The larger
the mass, the less lethal the result. If you shot the pulse
cannon at a wolf or a deer, for example, that animal would
instantly become a statue. If it explodes, the resulting rock
fragments, would look as if someone used a hammer to bust a
museum statue.
“If you shot into a closely packed heard of animals, it might

knock them all sprawling or change them into exploding stones.
Either event could happen.
“The stone that is produced is like that of the portal cones, but
not as dense and does not have the pattern of squares, circles
and rectangles found on a portal cone. The Medusa Stones are
also unique in that they ring like a crystal bell when you shake
them.”
“Forsooth, I can see why I will have to be careful!” explained

Padre.
“Be careful Padre, thee must not allow any friendly fire
incidents. That is the way the archon phrased it.”
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Chief Dancer who had silently appeared several minutes prior,

and quietly listened to the exchange, solemnly offered, “Chief
Dancer promises to pray for you, Padre!”
“Hola, Dancer. Prayer is always welcome.”
Knight entered the circle of chairs and sat back away from the
others, but nodded to all, then sat quietly, his piercing black
eyes devouring the morning’s show and tell.
“Hola, muchacho!” grinned Padre.
As Chief Dancer sat in a chair, Arthos collected the plastic

replica of the Pulse Cannon, and put it back in the leather bags.
Winthrop pushed the intricately carved wooden box forward.
Padre paused as he reached for it, then utilized the key and
opened the box. He placed the metal Pulse Cannon necklace
around his neck, and, leaving the hand cones in their protective
cylinders, he placed one in each pocket.
Winthrop stood and said, “As Scholar Ben is wont to say, ‘I take
my leave.’” Winthrop and Arthos exited the tiki hut and walked
back to the training grounds.
“I am glad, Dancer, my brother, that you came to visit the

chapel this morning. Verily, we have items of import to discuss.”
“Chief Dancer supposed as much. It does not happen often,

Padre, but when I awoke this morning, I heard the Holy Spirit
say that some of my braves and a few others are going on a
journey this afternoon.
“Only one lady is to go and one youngling!
“He also told me that we are to read several verses together from
your new Bible. He said that you are to read, out loud, Acts
chapter ten. Chief Dancer is to read Romans 11:4 out loud.
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“Chief Dancer didn’t actually hear this part Padre, but the sense
I had is that we both would have a hard time accepting what
Jesus was telling us to do, when we figure out what this verse
applies to in real life. And whatever it is, I think you will have
a much harder time than I will.”
“Forsooth, that is interesting, Dancer my brother. Let us read

aloud the portions of scripture you have brought to my
attention, and afterwards I will read a portion of the scroll of
instructions I received before meeting you at Wolfshead Portal.”
Following their Bible study, Padre Nombre de Dios paused and

gently shook the scroll he had recently referenced, then
continued, “Let me read a section of this to you. It is the scroll
I was given yesterday morning when I was commissioned as a
Knight Warden of Western Corstevah before meeting you at
Wolfshead Portal.”
Padre’s moon-face wrinkled in a frown of concentration as he

opened the scroll and read, “Dear Padre, here is a list of
important items you must accomplish in the near future. Jedd
and I will not be contacting you much now, you must rely on
prayer and following your heart, as you submit to Jesus, the
Unique Son of the Most High Elohim.
“Tomorrow afternoon you must take a group to Lilly Pad Pond

Portal. Although you have the Far Travel gift, you are not
commissioned to use it to take another with you as is
Benachmanides. Nor can you travel to other planets and across
time as I may do.
“You will find our servant Glaack. He has been a warden in

Eastern Corstevah for more than three centuries.
“Be warned, Glaack is a servant of the Most High! Remember,

my hombre, that Jesus looks at the heart and man looks with
his eyes. Do not make Peter the Apostle’s mistake! Know also,
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Nombre, that you are not the only servant of the Most High, on
this planet!
“Elohim Most High, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, has

reserved others, you do not know, who do not bow their knees
to the Baal’s of this world!
“You will receive two confirmations about this quest before

tomorrow’s sun is at its zenith. Also, your pride and that of
your friends will be tested as you test the Seser device.”
Padre put the scroll down on the table and watched it roll
together with a crackly whoosh before he continued, “Oh, I
forgot. Jazz said it would be a dangerous journey, but that
Chief Dancer, Miss Sokolov and the lad Knight are essential, as
is the Seser device, if we are to complete the mission.
“I expect that after breakfast your braves and Miss Sokolov will
arrive sooner or later. Knight, as you can see is already quietly
gracing us with his presence. Should we talk now about Jesu
Christo and how best to work together, Chief Dancer, as
brothers in the Lord Most High’s Service?”
Wind-Elk Sokolov woke with a smile on her face and yawned.

Her smile vanished as she thought of her mother’s death nine
years past and her recent separation from her father, Viktor
Sokolov.
Hearing bustling from the kitchen, she looked around the

bunkroom and found that she was alone. Grabbing the robe,
she had found hanging in the wardrobe, that had contained the
name Wind-Elk Sokolov, inscribed in the wood, she left the
bunk room and entered the social area of the women’s lodge.
Mostly everyone seemed quiet as Wind-Elk surveyed the faces

in the social/breakfast nook of the large cabin. From time to
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time the ladies chatted in a mixture of English, French, and

native dialects.
Tolly was apt to toss in a German phrase or two. She typically

delighted her new friends as she often twisted her sentence
structure, a trait common to many Germans who speak
secondary languages, by saying such things as “Ya, ya, I am
going to throw the cow over the fence some hay.”
Millie peeked curiously from face to face, before looking at her

hands, but said little and devoted herself to spending time with
the Khaska toddlers Raven and Mouse.
Tolly, plump and buxom, flashed a smile at the room’s latest

arrival, then chewed the dried pineapple chunk and crunchy
cashews from the decorative tin that they had found at the
bottom of the fruit basket. She fed sticks into the belly of the
small cook stove. Millie looked up shyly as Wind-Elk entered
the room. Millie went back to slicing an apple as she handed
pieces of the fruit to Raven and Mouse.
The screen door clanged shut with a snap as the tall, thin Metis
Deedra entered the lodge carrying a large wooden bucket of
water. Deedra exclaimed, “Oui, my friends! The water from the
pump-jack near the laundry hut tastes really good here!
Magnifique! Better than the water back in Nahanni,” as she sat
the bucket on top of the rustic countertop next to the tea kettle.
Deedra grabbed a ladle off a hook hanging on the side of a
cabinet and scooped water into a large white and gray speckled
tea pot.
Tolly stood up from the cook stove, shut the door, and pressed
the fastener mechanism into place. She smiled at Deedra and
said “Ya, ya…Danka,” as she placed the tea pot on the cook
stove to boil.
Deedra pulled out one of several glass jars from their position
along the back of the countertop and unscrewed the lid.
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Bending over the jar and sniffing deeply of the dried leaves she
chattered, “Merveileux! My Gosh Tolly, I think this one has
peppermint tea! It even has one of those metal ball doohickeys
for brewing the tea. What are they called?”
Tolly smiled but shrugged her shoulders and responded, “Nein.

Know not what you call it.”
Wind-Elk adjusted her robe and stifled a yawn, “Da, zhey call it
a tea infuser, my dear, uhm, Deedra. My servants at
Government House in Sitka liked to use zhem. Is zhat zhe
correct way to say your name? Dee-dra?”
Wind-Elk snatched a golden yellow apple from the basket that

sat atop the dining table, polished it on her robe, and then bit
into its wet, succulent sweetness.
Deedra replied, “Oui, Wind-Elk, you are speaking it just fine. I

have been told though, that I spell it wrong. That is how my
mother spelled it.”
Wind-Elk gestured dismissively with her free hand, swallowed,

then replied, “Posh! If you or your parents desired to use an
alternate spelling zhen it was zheir right to do so!
Millie paused in her apple slicing, looked up at Wind-Elk and

Deedra, smiled, then begin sharing apple slices with Raven and
Mouse.
Lydia wiggled in her chair, toyed with her apple core, then said,
“I don’t care how she spells it, but I like calling her Dee Dee.
Even though my name is Lydia, I prefer being called Lydi.”
“Oui, Dee Dee, is fine. My parents called me that often. The

only thing I don’t like being called is Deedra Marion McKay. If I
heard my parents say that I knew that I was in trouble! Mostly
I got in trouble for asking too many questions or talking too
much.”
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Tolly who was pulling thick wooden cups from the cupboard
suddenly clasped her hands and arms over her belly, bent
forward and began weeping. “What’s wrong Tolly?” exclaimed
Deedra.
Tolly’s round creamy face reddened as she turned away from

everyone and did not answer.
Mouse nudged Millie, “Crying,” she whispered. Mouse’s lower

lip trembled and then she was silent.
Tolly adjusted the oaken skewer that firmly positioned the tight
granny bun in her wavy yellow gold hair, Finally, Tolly said, “My
Da I miss! I cried when my Ma died. For a long time, I cried. But
this is different. I know my Da is alive, but I can’t go to him!
Depends on me, he does, so much! And nein idea does he have,
where I am!”
Deedra placed a comforting arm around Tolly. After a moment

Tolly reddened and stepped away from Deedra’s embrace,
“Nein. Steam escaping, I hear. The kettle is whistling and boiling
the water is. Time to steep the tea. Nobody wants to hear me
like a baby whine.”
“I zhink we are all missing our families,” said Wind-Elk gently.

“For zhose of you who are ready, zhis might be a good time to
talk about it. I miss my batya, I mean my fazher—father, as
well.”
Lydi added, “Oui, I agree. For those of us who are ready, maybe
we should go around and talk about it. Most of us talked about
our parents when we were introduced yesterday at the ring
portal. I really don’t want to explain myself again, but I do agree
that I really miss them.
“It bothers me about what the Padre said about not being able
to go back. This is a much nicer place to live than the long
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winter lands of the Nahanni Valley, though. Just to live another

day and put food on the table was hard in Nahanni Valley.
Really hard. Oui, and the long winters were even worse.
“Here, we don’t have jobs. Yet. You can’t go down to the trading
post to get flour, salt or a bolt of cloth, here abouts, but the
weather is warm. Fruits and vegetables grow everywhere
outside.”
Millie surprised everyone by saying, “Oui, I miss my family, too.

I don’t talk much. I think we have to be family now. Family to
each other.”
Deedra nodded, “I’ll start passing out the mugs of tea. We’ll add
some cool water and honey to Raven and Mouse’s mug. I think
they are old enough for honey to be safe. Millie can help them
share it. We don’t want them to burn their lips or spill hot tea
on themselves.”
Upon hearing their names, Raven and Mouse smiled, but did
not speak.
Deedra continued as she passed out mugs of steaming

peppermint tea, “I would like to know more about Wind-Elk’s
family. About how her parents met. What is a Government
House? Do you look like your mother or father or are you
totally different?”
Wind-Elk smiled, “Zhat is much to unpack, Deedra dear! Da, I

will share my story for Deedra, but first, is there anyone else
who would like to share?”
Wind-Elk perused the faces gathered around the table, sipped

her tea, and sat it down.
One nein and a chorus of nons were the words that greeted her
ears in response to her query. “Zhe only trait I inherited from
my, uhh, mozher, mother, is my feminine figure and coppery
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skin. She was the youngest daughter of zhe chief of zhe largest
Tlingat tribe of Northern Canada.”
Wind-Elk chuckled, arose from her chair, pulled off the beaver
pelt that was draped over the seat, and sat back. Wrapping the
pelt over her head and around her chin, leaving only her nose
and eyes exposed, she said, “Pretend zhat zhis pelt is a beard
and Russian winter hat. Imagine that my robe is a zhree-piece
suit with a tie. Except zhat he was six-two and I am five feet
and eleven inches tall in flat shoes, I look like my father, but
younger. Of course, he is almost fifty years old, now, and has
just started plucking stray gray hairs out of his beard!
“His eyes were dark green just like mine. Father’s facial
features, except that he had a thick, but well-groomed beard,
looked like me. Father was a brave, yet kind man. His name
was Viktor.
“Father was an excellent diplomat, but while he was not

unbendable for good reason, he never caved to intimidation.
Viktor was a handsome man, but much to his irritation, some
called him a dandy or a pretty boy behind his back. Never to his
face!
“My father was an expert shot wizz a rifle and pistol and often
trained with his valet who was an expert in hand-to-hand
combat, grappling and knife fighting.
“I wanted to learn zhe art from his valet as well, but my father
wanted me to know just enough to protect myself. Father
wanted me to exercise my mind rather zhan my body. He hired
tutors to teach me a variety of subjects. Father’s dream was for
me to become a professional tutor for wealthy and influential
families.”
“Did…did you get along well with your father, Wind-Elk?” asked
Millie shyly, looking into Wind-Elk’s large dark green eyes, but
then back at her hands.
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Wind-Elk began to chortle, but then caught herself and

changed her response into an impish laugh. “I loved fahzer—I
mean father—and he loved me. Father was not one to lose his
temper, but if irritated he could slice and dice you, with words,
dear Millie, like you are paring that apple!
Millie grinned up at Wind-Elk briefly, then focused on carefully

peeling the giant red delicious apple she was feeding to Raven
and Mouse.
“He tended to spoil me, but he could be strict. When I was

young, he would either have mozher—mother or my governess
spank me. Father was more likely to lecture me. More often
than not, it was my strong will that would raise his ire with me.
“Once when I demanded to travel with him to investigate a

cryptid sighting, a week’s journey east and south of Sitka, he
was very sharp with me!
“I deserved it! He had lent me a book and some cryptid journals

from his private library to read while he was away on adventure.
Father had brought the books to me to appease me. I had
wanted zhe books but did not wish to accept zhe consolation
prize.
“Finally, he threw up his hands, grabbed the books and

journals, and walked briskly to the door outside the hallway to
his study.
“Father turned, just before he had entered the door and locked
it, and said in a very firm, icy tone, ‘Wind-Elk dear, I shall not
put up with your str-ong-will-ed be-hav-ior! When you zhrow
tan-trums like zhis, I feel like I am play-ing chess a-gainst a pig-
e-on! Does not mat-ter how good at chess you are, the pig-e-on
is just going to knock all zhe pieces over, def-ecate green gu-
ano pen-ny can-dy on top of zhe bo-ard, de-clare it-self zhe win-
ner and fly a-way!’”
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Father scowled at me, dramatically flapped his hands like bird’s

wings, and stormed to zhe door zhat led into his bedchamber
and private study. ZHen he slammed zhe door for effect. I did
not see him until just before he left zhe next day.
Not that everyone at the table fully understood the story,

especially Raven and Mouse, but between the beaver pelt
wrapped around her head, and Wind-Elk’s talented delivery of
the story, laughs and giggles floated around the table like
rounds of applause.
Lydi McCloud’s brow wrinkled as she gasped, “How did a

Russian diplomat marry the daughter of a Tinglat Chief?”
Wind-Elk replaced the beaver pelt on her chair before answering

Lydia’s question. She gently tapped her finger on her lip, “Zhat
is a long story, Lydi dear! Let me sum it up.
“Father was sent zhere to negotiate a treaty with zhem and

encourage a commercial fur-trading and fishing agreement.
“When he traveled, Father’s valet was almost always present,

but on this occasion Vlad’s wife was also along. Annika had
worked with her family in the apothecary trade. When the
expedition had arrived many Tinglats in the village were ill.
Father promised the chief that he would provide medicine. The
herbal remedy suggested by Vlad’s wife, Annika, was successful
and between her satchel and the local flora, all the ingredients
were present in zhe quantity needed.
“Grandfather offered his youngest daughter to my father in

marriage as a gift for saving his people. Father was shocked
and unlike his usual quick thinking and diplomatic self, was at
a loss for words.
“One of his advisors, who was also zhe party interpreter,

informed Father that if he rejected the gift, zhe chief would be
185
insulted. An attack could ensue and zhere was not a guarantee

zhat zhe soldiers, even wizz their rifles, could protect them.
Father, or so the story goes, whispered a quick sincere prayer
of ‘is zhis zhe one?’ and then, through his interpreter, accepted
the agreement to marry.”
Deedra laughed and cried, “Oui, you are really a princess! Then
she cocked her head to one side and asked, “Did they love each
other, Wind-Elk? Did they get along well?”
Wind-Elk replied. “Zhank you, Deedra dear! My father often

called me his princess. Mamoolya, often as not called me
Princess-Rain-In-Her-Pants.” Wind-Elk laughed merrily and
then became sad as she continued.
“My mamoolya…Mamoolya is a tender Russian word for

mother. Mamoolya and father both had a natural chemistry. It
was literally love at first sight.
“Zhat said, my Mamoolya was by temperament, much like me.

Good natured and compassionate, but also fiery and strong-
willed. Nyet, especially at first, things were not all peaches and
cream! Zhere were disagreements.
“Not understanding each other’s language was challenging

initially. Father had hired zhe interpreter that was wizz zhe
diplomatic envoy to grandfather’s village to his personal staff.
Father used his services at Government House until zhey could
converse adequately, zhen made him one of my tutors.
“My mother’s name meant Northern Lights. – Zhe Tinglat name

is too hard to pronounce. Father called her Nolli. I called her
Ma-mool-ya.
“Father had a church ceremony later, in addition to zhe Tinglat

Native American village ritual, when he returned to Sitka.
Father’s family was of the Russian nobility and practiced the
European Nobility model of marriage.
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“He said an angel talked to him in a dream when he was young.

Zhe angel told him not to look for a wife and that his family’s
attempts to find one for him would come to nothing, no matter
how hard they tried. Zhe angel told father that like in chapter
twenty and four of Genesis that God would arrange his
marriage.
“Zhe angel told Father zhat he should follow his family tradition
of zhe European Nobility model of marriage, except for one
thing. European nobility marriages were notorious for adultery
and unfaithfulness. Zhe angel told my father zhat zhey were ‘to
go the extra mile’ to be faithful to one another.
“Zhe angel also said zhat my father was not to dominate her, or
she would react by becoming resistant and rebellious. Zhe
angel told Father that he needed to honor Jesus first, but love
her with all of his heart.
“Zhe angel told my father that if he honored Jesus first and was
kind and firm, rather than harsh and controlling, her love for
him would cause her to want to serve and please him. And
because she loved her husband, later she would come to love
Jesus before it was her time to go to her heavenly home.”
Tolly’s face transformed from awe into a puzzled expression,

then she asked “European Nobility Marriage, what is? Heard of
that I have never! Nein!”
A chorus of French Canadian nons followed as the other Metis

ladies considered Tolly’s comment.”
Wind-Elk smiled. “If I ever get married, zhat is the kind of

marriage I want! Unlike peasant husbands and wives who
shared zhe same bed in a small house, European nobles, both
men and women, tended to live in sprawling castles and were
very independent.
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“Not only did zhat form of marriage often lead to many

arguments, but also to extramarital affairs. Zhe husbands and
wives often slept in zheir own suite of rooms, but made
appointments with each other for sharing some meals,
discussing family matters, visiting friends and relatives, and
even wizz personal romantic visits in zheir chambers!”
Lydia asked, “What happened to your mother?”
Wind-Elk’s stunning smile vanished. “Mamoolya grew weak and

sickly not long after my ninth birthday. She slept as much as
twenty hours some days! Father spared no expense in bringing
the best doctors from Europe to Government House. Father
claimed that Annika’s legendary herbal medicines would have
cured Mamoolya. Annika had been much older than her
husband Vlad and had died quietly in her sleep a year before.”
Loud banging at the door interrupted Wind-Elk’s sorrowful tale.

“Dene Strong-Oak must speak to Wind-Elk!”
Wind-Elk replied, “Please come in, Dene-Strong Oak. Is zhere

an emergency? Has someone been hurt?”
Dene Strong-Oak was a short stout wrinkled First Nations

woman who was the mother of Chief Dancer’s wife, Squatting
Beaver.
“Dene Strong-Oak not know all Wind-Elk words. To Chief

Dancer and He-Who-Slays-Bad-Spirits, the Padre, we must go!
Chief and Padre at Tiki-Chapel-of-Creator. Must go now! Dene
Strong-Oak and Wind-Elk. Creator give me vision! Wind-Elk,
He-Who-Tips-Grizzlies, Chief Dancer and He-Who-Slays-Bad-
Spirits must rescue Long-White-Hair-Man-Who-Dances-In-
Stone-Rings. Come Wind-Elk. Must come now!”
“I will change my clothing, now, Dene Strong-Oak. Zhen I will

go wizz you. Wait for me. Come in and have tea.”
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Dene Strong-Oak placed her fists on her hips and nodded her
head. “Dene Strong-Oak drink tea while Wind-Elk changes
clothing. Dene Strong-Oak drink tea fast!”
Tolly arose, her bright blue eyes widened with surprise, at Dene
Strong-Oak’s visit. Tolly had not inherited her mother’s coppery
skin and medium brown eyes, but knew the ways of First
Nations people, and was stunned that the Old Medicine woman
would deign to come alone to visit a half paleface. Tolly filled a
mug with steaming tea from the kettle and pressed it into Dene
Strong-Oak’s thick gnarled hands.
“Creator protect you, Metis woman, daughter of Gunther,”

intoned Dene Strong-Oak. The elderly medicine woman danced
softly from side to side as she drank the hot tea. She quaffed
the hot brew in quick swilling sips. Dene Strong-Oak alternated
between grimacing and saying “Hot! Hot!” and smiling while
whispering “Tea Good! Tea Good!”
When Wind-Elk exited the bunkroom wearing informal day

wear, she followed Dene Strong-Oak. Tolly offered to stay and
clean up as the other Metis followed in the wake of Dene and
Wind-Elk like a gaggle of geese. Millie asked Raven and Mouse
if they wanted to stay and drink tea or go outside. Raven and
Mouse looked into each other’s faces, then arose and sprinted
toward the door.
“Nein! Nein running!” snapped Tolly.
Millie held the toddler’s hands and walked with them to the tiki
chapel.
Knight, Padre and Dancer were conversing in the chapel as the

others arrived.
Padre observed that Dene Strong-Oak was quite animated and

was literally dragging Wind-Elk into the circle of chairs.
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Lifting one eyebrow Padre asked, “Verily, what has you in such
a dither, Dene Strong-Oak?”
Shuffling from side to side the septuagenarian woman

exclaimed “Creator give me vision! Wind-Elk, He-Who-tips-
Grizzlies, Chief Dancer and He-Who-Slays-Bad-Spirits must
rescue Long-White-Hair-Man-Who-Dances-In-Stone-Rings.”
Chief Dancer said, “Slow down Mother Dene! Calm yourself.

Creator has warned us, too.”
“Good! Good!” said Dene Strong-Oak. “Not think He-Who-Slays-

Bad-Spirits or Chief Dancer believe old woman.”
Padre asked, “Did you see where the old man was dancing? Who
captured him?”
Dene Strong Oak stopped shuffling from side to side. “First see
portal like Wolf-Head. Different stone ring. Old man with shiny
white hair dance. He sing many creator song.
“See small water jumpers. Also, lizards with three eyes. Three
eye lizards chase jumpers and swimmers in pond. Moon high in
sky. Then new place. No moonlight. Only flambeaus.
“Long white hair hung by wrists off floor. Blood all over. Small
ugly man. Fat. Long nose. Torment Long-White-Hair. Very
dark. Cannot see. Torch by Long-White-Hair. Dark other places.
“Fat little man with long nose force him to drink evil hot drink.
Not tea! Long haired white man, but not man, he laugh and
mutter, weep and sleep. Over and over. Little fat man keep
cutting him, lick his blood. Every day, more than once, fat man
climbs up ladder, force evil hot drink!”
“Let us adjourn to the library in my castle everyone,” said Padre.

“I will ask Dene Strong-Oak if the portal in her vision is the
same one. Forsooth, I have a picture of Lilly Pad Portal.” He
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added, “Verily, my best guess is that the three eyed creatures

you saw were tuataras. They are small reptiles. They sleep
underground during the day and eat frogs, fish, hatchlings,
eggs, and insects at night. The third eye is not really an eye,
but a different kind of sensory organ. Tuataras sing and trill all
night, especially during mating season. They are harmless,
timid little creatures.”
When Padre showed Strong-Oak the picture of the portal on the

wall above the map, she was not sure. However, when Padre
pushed the button that generated the holographic replica, and
beckoned her to step inside, the old Medicine Woman swayed
back and forth and jumping jacked in place.
“Same one Padre! Same one,” said Dene Strong Oak.
“Thank you, Dene Strong-Oak.” Padre pointed to a circle portal

on the three-dimensional topographical map table.
“This is the portal called Lilly Pad Pond Portal. Since I have
seen it, I can go there alone instantly. Forsooth, Chief Dancer
informed me this morning that we would need to start a rescue
mission this afternoon and that Chief Dancer, Wind-Elk, Knight
and myself must go if we are to complete the mission
successfully.”
“Chief Dancer suggests we should bring my braves, especially

Oskar Snow Owl, he is the best tracker I know. He can track a
squirrel across rock! I have heard that Small bear is a good
tracker, too,”
Padre scrutinized the three-dimensional topographical map

observing the route from his compound to Lilly Pad Pond Portal.
Padre asked, “You think, Dene Strong-Oak, that it is possible

the white-haired man is being drugged and held captive in a
cave?”
191
The old medicine woman frowned then nodded. “Dene Strong-

Oak not know. Near portal. Somewhere. Not far.”
“Any idea who the small fat man with the long nose is, Dene
Strong-Oak?”
“Sorry. Dene Strong-Oak not know. Too dark. Flambeau flicker

confusing.”
Padre asked, “Anyone?”
Wind-Elk exclaimed, “It might be a Dark Skraeling!
“Zhey are small but bull-strong creatures, about four to four

and a half feet tall, who live underground. Legends of dwarves
might stem from zhem. Zhey are very cruel. Father talked to
me about zhem. A First Nations guide on one of Father’s trips
said zhey- zhe Dark Skraeling – are resistant to trackers.
Occult powers and special moccasins, wrapped in layers of
cloth to mask zheir footprints, were zhe reasons zhe old Tinglat
gave him, but he would say no more. Said zhey are as bad as
sk-n w-lkers! Zhen refused to talk about zhem.
“Father took me on a cruise ship trip, and we examined the

archeological remains of the White Skraeling near Ellesmere
Island. Once Father knew how much I wanted to go on cryptid
expeditions, he made me study and learn certain skills, for
several months, but began taking me on cryptid hunts after
zhat.
“Anyway, back to zhe Dark Skraeling. Zhey do hunt and fish.

Zhey prefer, however, to eat people.
“White Skraeling are taller and thinner, with smaller noses,

though never over five feet tall. Zhey are not strong, but make
up for zheir lack with cunning, agility, and speed! Zhere was a
band of White Skraeling, long ago, zhat were wild and fought
Vikings among zhe islands of Northern Canada, but White
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Skraeling are usually very shy and timid. By personality like

zhe tuatara you were talking about, Nombre.
“Very curious, though. Father said zhe gentle but mischievous

White Skraeling can get irritating, especially when zhey sneak
into your house, to look at ‘man treasures.’ As much as the
Dark Skraeling enjoy cannibalism and torture, White Skraeling
enjoy secretly watching people and oohing and ahhing over
shiny and pretty trinkets.”
Dene Strong-Oak shuffle danced as she said, “Dene Strong-Oak

thinks Wind-Elk is right. Might be! Dene Strong-Oak knows
White Skraeling. Have seen two in all of life. In Nahanni Valley.
“They like fish, but only eat a little flesh on back of fish, then
throw away. Eat it raw.
“Dark Skraeling, uhhm, we call’em Black Long Nose Goblin.

More gray green. Dark skin, yes. Black, no. Power and dark
hunger from evil spirits. Bad! Bad! Much bad!
“Dene Strong-Oak never see Long Nose Goblin. Hear stories.

Mother, mother’s brother, father’s father say, ‘No play outside
at night, Dene girl! No stare into campfire Dene girl! No be
naughty! Or Black Long Nose Goblin eat you! Like little Dene
girl. Good eats. Yum. Yum.’”
Padre cleared his throat, “Forsooth, my friends, let us meet at

the community pavilion at lunch. We can gather fruit or
vegetables and share a meal. I have some jerky I will donate.
“Chief Dancer, would you go with me to speak with Chief Otter’s

band? I would like to see if Small Bear or Miss LaPoint’s distant
cousin, Mr. McCloud would like to join our expedition.
“Actually, Padre,” exclaimed Chief Dancer, with a grin, “they are

already on their way. Chief Dancer’s sees them coming across
compound now. Chief Dancer is certain mother-in-law told
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everyone in tipi village, or enough to send verbal smoke signals,

to both tribes! As you can see, they all came right away, ‘Native
American Time,’ of course!”
“Verily, I see you are correct, Chief Dancer. As for Miss Sokolov,
I would prefer that Wind-Elk not come as this will be a
dangerous journey. It seems Jesus has expressly asked for her,
though. Will you be joining us, Wind-Elk?”
“Most certainly, am I not dressed in the coolest leather

adventurer’s ensemble that I own from my gift-wardrobe?
Wouldn’t miss zhe expedition. Not for zhe world! And zhe
chance to see mammoths, dinosaurs, and cryptids! Wild
equines could not yank me away!”
“Forsooth, my dear Wind-Elk, it is not the wild equines yanking

you away that worries me! Bandits, beasts, terrible lizards, and
cryptids yanking you away- that does worry me!”
“Posh, Nombre! You sound like Father!” groused Wind-Elk with

a frown and a flip of her dark brown hair.
Following a lunch of cold fruit, tea and dinosaur jerky, Padre,

Chief Dancer, Knight, Oskar Snow Owl, Medicine Horn, and
High Back Bull, armed with a spear and bow from their armory,
as well as Small Bear and Sully McCloud, said their good byes
to the others.
Waving with his left hand, LaClare, right arm still bundled in a
sling, had been so cheerfully loquacious during the community
meal that Medicine Horn had called him He-Who-Talks-A-Lot.
He had even out-talked Deedra. Dexter had enjoyed being the
center of attention and astounded the gathering by telling them
of his adventures, while working long summers at his uncle’s
ranches – one in Colorado and the other in North Dakota. He
had started as a cattle drive cook’s gopher at the age of eleven,
but by the time he was nineteen had been a cattle wrangler for
several years. Going to college and then through his skills and
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Canadian parent’s influence, posting with the Canadian Royal

Mounted Police.
Padre, once again dressed in his leather armor with chain mail
pullover, waved an arm dramatically in a slow circle above his
head, whistled, and strode briskly towards the north west exit
of the compound. He adjusted the brightly colored spikey
dinosaur helm on his wide oval head and ran the fingers of one
hand over his short black ponytail. He had not had time to
repair his turtle shell shield. Padre was thinking about the day
or so long, and probably much longer walk, to Lilly Pad Portal.
As the others fell into a single file line behind Padre, Knight
tugged at paladin’s arm and asked, “Padre, why don’t you wear
armor like Winthrop? He wears armor like the knights in my
book. It was an illustrated edition, so I can tell that knights
don’t wear armor of the type that you wear.”
Padre smiled at Knight. “Forsooth, that is a good question,

muchacho! Life often plays out differently than in fiction books!
Forsooth, young Knight, plate and iron mail are stronger by far
than leather and light chain, but also very heavy.
“As real as Winthrop seems, Knight, and I know this is

confusing, but Winthrop is an advanced technology hologram.
He… let me rephrase that… it is not real in the same sense as
you and I are, Knight. Winthrop is not human. However, it is
designed to appear as realistically human as possible.
“Even though during practice combat it may feel like your sword
or mace clangs against him, the metal is an illusion. It weighs
very little. If I were wearing that same full-plate armor, I could
barely move. Now if I had pages to mount me onto a horse, just
prior to battle, or a jousting match, that would be different.
Forsooth, many of my quests contain a great deal of walking.

That is why I prefer a light chain mail and leather armor kit
rather than one of either iron or plate mail. More pointedly, my
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dear Knight, enormous men in blackened plate mail with cherry

red cloaks and peacock plumes topping their helms, do not
sneak worth a tinker’s damn!” After saying the word tinker’s
damn, Padre grinned and mimicked squeezing an oil can, then
continued, “I fight when I must, but if I can sneak around, and
avoid combat, that is usually the wisest course of action. For
large dinosaurs, like a T-Rex, in the past, I would have Far
Traveled away, upon seeing one.”
“What is a T-Rex?” asked Knight.
Padre pulled a small paperback book out of his pocket. “I found

this in my new library. It is much smaller than many of the
books. It has pictures of dinosaurs. Open it up to page fifty-
seven. There you will see a T-Rex standing over a man. Observe
the difference in size.
“Do you remember tipping the Ursus Horribilis, Knight?”
“Yes.”
“Verily, not that I ever saw one, an extra grande anyway, mind
you,” lectured Padre. “Way before my time, when I was back on
earth, it is said an adult T-Rex was about 40 feet long. They get
up to twenty feet or so longer here. And that’s just a good sized
one, not a grande! The old crippled dinosaur that the wolf pack
killed at Wolfshead Portal yesterday morning, was about thirty
feet long and maybe a yard or so. Forsooth, it was bigger than
the big grizzly that you ‘tipped’ that was a bit over twenty feet
long.”
“How do we fight something that big, like a T-Rex?” asked

Knight.
“Ab asino lanam - Wool from an ass, blood from a stone -

impossible. Short of divine intervention anyway. If you have
time to plan, and the right area, like a huge pit or drop off, like
happened with the grizzly you ‘tipped.’ That is the only way.”
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“If I remember the map in your library Padre, there is a large

plain. Didn’t you say people stay in the wooded areas and off
the plain to avoid the giant predators? How are we going to get
to Lilly Pad Pond Portal? From what I remember of the map,
there are some protective foothills, and little lakes, right next to
the west and south side of the portal, but there is a lot of open
plain on the north, west and east side. We will have to cross the
plain to get there! How are we going to do that?”
Padre smiled, “As my friend Scholar Ben was wont to say,
‘Dominus providbit; The Lord will provide.’ Divine intervention.”
Knight frowned. “Are you saying we are just going to trust Jesus
as the saying goes? I am not sure whether this is a case, Padre,
of trusting Jesus or testing Him by walking where angels fear
to tread.”
“Forsooth, that is a very wise comment, Knight. Just so you
know though, angels would not have a difficult time taking out
a T-Rex, even a grande. Angels are incredibly powerful. A bad
angel might even consider tackling a giant T-Rex as a bit of
dangerous afternoon sport.”
“We are not angels, Padre,” replied Knight.
“Verily, but Jesu has powerful angels watching over us. Ones
we do not see in addition to Jazz and Jed.”
Chief Dancer interjected, “Chief Dancer encourages you, He-
Who-Tips-Grizzlies! The angels you are talking about were
already dispatched. Ask Padre about the personal pulse
cannon.”
“What personal pulse cannon?”
Padre grinned, tapped the flat metal case hanging from his
neck, that hung lower than the universal translator device and
said, “This is a personal pulse cannon hanging around my neck.
If you see a charging T-Rex, be sure to let me know, young
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Knight!” Padre chuckled, his smile lighting his handsome oval

face. He continued, “Then, muchacho, we will both see how a
personal pulse cannon can stop such a monster!”
Following a pause, Padre added, “Wind-Elk recently expressed
a desire to view my dinosaur books, Knight. Please take it back
to her, then take rear guard position for two hours. After that,
have High Back Bull, Oscar Snow Owl or Small Bear relieve
you.”
Knight nodded, then took the book and handed it to Wind-Elk
who chuckled merrily and said, “Zhank you, He-Who-Tips-
Grizzlies!”
When the group reached the border tree barrier it was halfway
into the next day. Padre signaled for a rest break. While they
shared jerky and some of the raw fruits and vegies they had
carried from the compound, he warned them about the dangers
of the plains. The plains had vegetables, fruits and herbs that
could be eaten, just as the mountains, but one was much more
exposed to the giant predators.
The abundant Edenic environs of planet PXE749559 were not
lands that easily lent its inhabitants to death by starvation.
Food for gatherers or hunter-gatherers was plentiful. Death
from predators or death from ingesting a toxic food, was more
than possible. The corollary, as far as poisoned food was
concerned, was that what could kill one on earth, might lead to
a temporary incapacity on Corstevah where one wished they
were dead, but eventually recovered. Also, the hyperbaric
chamber effect of the sky canopy tended to neutralize toxins.
One of the rare exceptions was the liquid and gaseous
excretions of the barrel trees. While barrel trees were not lethal,
ingesting, eating, or touching them could cause burns, vertigo,
intense nausea, or unconsciousness.
The great plains between the smokey mountains and the iron
mountains was vast and filled with lakes and rivers. Small
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circular crags of rocky hillocks encircled by woods also dotted

the plains. Many of the surviving portals were in and near such
sanctuaries.
Lilly Pad Portal was one standing circle that, while not lost in
the midst of a large tract of open land, was near an area of
woods and boulders. Trees in much of Corstevah grew closer
together than was common on earth. Most of the lands
contained the interlocking, hard as iron, deeply rooted lavender
barrel trees, growing deeper than palm tree roots, that formed
a protective perimeter around the grassy bottoms of both
mountain foothills and the island like patches of rocky
woodlands that dotted the savannahs and prairies of
Corstevah.
A small lily-pad pond, linked to a series of larger pools,
connected to a raised forest. A gray spire of rock, much smaller
than the faux castle on the distant hilltop, rose majestically
from the pool’s center.
The tuataras were sleeping underground, hiding from the
brightness of day, but frogs croaked, and insects whirred alone
and in smokey clouds. Delicate scents from clumps of purple
Forget-Me-Nots and a blanket of lush white trilliums,
surrounded the pond, ending against the circle of stones, but
not encroaching inside the sandy expanse of the thirty-yard
stone circle.
In the center of the miles wide boulder strewn forest grouping
of hills, was a large, free-standing rock outcrop, like an
abandoned crumbling castle, that rose abruptly from the
surrounding smooth and gentle slopes forming a ridge crest
that silhouetted beautifully against the azure canopy of sky.
Padre and his adventurers exited the barrel tree opening and
stepped into the plains into a swath of green waist high grass.
The paladin retrieved a Captain’s scope from a side pocket of
his pack. “Forsooth my friends, Lilly Pad Portal is west a few
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hours walk. We cannot see it from here. I may be able to spot it

with my scope.”
Dancer asked, “Dancer wants to know, Padre, how long will it
take to get there.”
“At least a few hours.” Nombre De Dios paused, “There is a
forested series of steep hills with a crest of rock, not too far
away.” He added, “Remember, once we start, talk as little as
possible and listen.
“The grass is so tall that some smaller predators may hide in it
and attack us by surprise. It will slow us down, but we must
pause and listen with each step. Padre removed the small hand
cones from their protective cylinders and placed them back in
his pockets. He unlocked the door of the pulse cannon which
revealed the donut shaped stone of the Seser Tech Device.
Thirty minutes into their journey, thighs tired from the strange
pattern of walking, but less so for Snow Owl, Padre and Small
Bear, Padre thrust his hand behind him warning the band to
stop and listen.
Three furrows sped toward them in the grass. Except for the
sudden flash of a scaley tail and rattled whisper, the first attack
sped swiftly toward them, soundlessly, with the only evidence a
movement in the tall grass. Tall green grass, resembling a
Sargasso Sea, sported spikey rows of bone, like shark fins, atop
the backs of the advancing saurians, was all that demarcated
the deadly attack.
While the others readied their hand weapons, Padre grasped the
hilt of his katana, then reached instead into his pockets for the
Seser cones. Aiming them at the converging trio of carnivorous
dinosaurs, hidden in the tall grass, Padre thought of his attack.
Instantly showers of stony grass in a wide swath, narrow just
in front of him, but much wider farther away, exploded into the
air. Green grass turned gray and fell like rain. Three larger
200
explosions followed on the heals of the first, and stones from

the size of softballs to the size of pebbles rained down on them.
One of the larger stones hit Knight. He grunted but grinned and
picked up a clawed foot. The blackened clawed foot, scaley with
pebbled skin, rang dimly like crystal. Most of the debris was
scattered in front of them. Where the Seser tech device had
shattered the grass in front of them, the field looked as if it had
been mowed by a bull-scythe but were black and dead against
the green of the living grasses. Knight pocketed his souvenir.
Padre said, “I was told, forsooth, that those petrified body parts
are called Medusa Stones. You can see why you must be
careful, not to stand in front of me, if I am using the pulse
cannon!”
There were several nods as they continued forward. Everyone
except Padre grabbed one of the Medusa Stone shards, shook
it, and listened to the crystal bell tones, before pocketing their
memento.
Another two hours into their journey, Padre said, “It is time for
our next break. Verily, I do not feel comfortable taking it here.
We should continue until we get to the stone circle. We will be
safe inside.”
The castle like formation on top of the tor was barely visible to
the naked eye. The circle stones of Lilly Pad Pond Portal were
still dim, but the blanket of trilliums that surrounded the
exterior of the edifice caused a color variance that was
perceptible.
“Oscar Snow Owl smells water to north.”
Everyone looked towards the north. Padre pulled out his scope
and Knight pulled out the binoculars he had inherited from his
father.
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Both Padre and Knight scanned the area. Knight said nothing.
Finally, Padre said, “The wind is traveling towards us, so unless
the wind shifts, I think they are too far away to smell us. There
is a lake, just out of range of vision. There are many carnivores
there. They are hunting sauropods and other creatures that live
around the lake. The main target of the moment seems to be a
crash of rhinos being dogged by a pride of spotted cave lions on
the opposite side of the lake.
Intent on the activity to the north, they did not see the
gargantuan monster that had appeared on the southern
horizon along one side of the tor. Not a grande specimen, it was
still quite large. It reared its massive reptilian head from sniffing
the ground near its feet. When it reared its head up into the
sky it sniffed the air, taking in great draughts, and then it
roared.
Seeing the monster in the distance, they ran toward the distant
stone circle. It bellowed angrily as it charged like a two-legged
locomotive. The group continued their rush towards the stone
circle. It was still far away.
The giant T-Rex slowed slightly but continued to haul its
massive sixty-foot body, towards the group. Still far away, its
long steps, balanced by its long tail, ate up the distance way too
swiftly. The height and girth of the beast loomed over them,
even in the distance. That distance was rapidly vanishing.
Charging forward like a mobile siege tower it continued,
growling, growing ever larger, as it approached them.
Closing the distance, the enraged T-Rex, became even more
menacing. The reverberations of its steps were loud and
booming at first. The deadliness of the encounter intensified as
the earth-pounding impacts of each step forced Padre’s group
to stagger.
“Medicine Horn is afraid! Quick Padre! Make it explode with
Magic Cannon!”
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Padre stopped running and turned around to face the T-Rex. It

was still more than a spear’s throw or arrow shot away. “Do
not stop! Keep running to the circle. It will not put its head
inside!” yelled Padre.
Padre aimed the two Seser cones at the beast and mentally
signaled the device to hit the massive T-Rex. The T-Rex stopped
in its tracks, bellowed, and roared down at Padre and fell over.
Shaking its body, its eyes bright green saucers of light, it stared
across the grasses at the paladin.
Growling, it lunged to its feet, and stepped forward one slow
step. Padre blasted the T-Rex again. A wave of dizziness swept
over Padre as the carnivore fell backwards.
Once again, but slower, the reptilian behemoth, unbelievably
agile for its great mass, and having only two large limbs, rather
than four, regained its feet.
Again, Padre lifted his arms, that suddenly felt like lead weights,
and fired again.
This time the T-Rex fell over backwards and did not swiftly
arise. Its huge hind legs clawed and wind-boxed frantically at
the air. When it finally righted itself, the terrible reptile of
nightmares wobblily stepped forward. Padre blasted it once
more but staggered himself.
The brutish beast fell again. Screaming in frustration it eyed
the Padre balefully and rose again. It was now within bow shot
and some of the Native Americans had stopped running and
began firing arrows at the T-Rex. Most of the arrows just
bounced off its armored scales. Those barbs that pierced its
skin did not enter with enough force to cause serious damage.
Shakily it regained its feet and took another step, barely staying
up right, and locked its eyes onto Padre.
Padre whispered, short of breath, “Blessed be the Lord my

strength, which teacheth my hands to warre, and my fingers to
203
fight.” He focused again and blasted the T-Rex. Padre fell to his
knees.
The T-Rex twisted its upper body spasmodically and used its
shaking legs to force itself up. But this time, upon arising the
T-Rex screamed, shook itself in frustration, and rushed back in
the direction it had come from, lurching and waddling,
awkwardly. The beast did not stop until it was lost to sight in
the distance.
High Back Bull and Snow Owl, careful not to get in front of him,
pulled Padre upright and held him in position. Padre signaled
when he could stand unaided and shut the door that covered
the donut stone of the pulse cannon. Then, starting to shake
from exhaustion and the aftermath of the battle, Padre fumbled
but put away the cones in their protective cylinders.
Knight said, “Now we know how to stop a charging T-Rex!”
High Back Bull said, “High Back Bull has no words! Padre has
defeated Great T-Rex by self.”
“Forsooth, everyone, we should go now to the stone circle.”
“Oskar Snow Owl says if we can take down T-Rex we can do

anything!”
Padre tuned out the chatter around him. The words were a
blur. Only Knight remained quiet and watchful. Padre focused
on taking one step at a time.
At last they entered the stone circle. Leaning back against the
tall stone cone of the circle. Padre chewed a piece of jerky and
sipped water from his flask. Wind-Elk smiled and passed a bag
of apples and carrots around the group. When she came to offer
some to Padre he had slumped back against a cone pillar, legs
splayed out in front of him, sitting fast asleep. The others
204
decided to let him sleep for an hour or so and then wake him
up.
“Forsooth, my friends,” said a refreshed Padre, when he finally

awoke from his nap, “We will now begin the next leg of our
rescue mission. We must find the tall man with the long white
hair. I would expect he is somewhere in that tor. It may take us
days or even weeks to search it. I pray that we find him before
the Long-Nosed Goblin or whatever it is, kills him!”
Oskar Snow Owl said, “Oskar Snow Owl and Small Bear must
show tracks to Padre.”
“Verily, I look forward to hearing your wisdom,” said Padre.
The two First Nations trackers, formerly of Nahanni Valley,

earth, one from the Slavey Band and the other from the
McKenzie band, walked to the western edge of the stone circle,
squatted and pointed at muffled tracks in the sand.
Oskar Snow-Owl said to Padre, “Small Bear agrees with Oskar.

A being a little less tall than you and weighing about two
hundred pounds danced here. We think it was He-With-Shiny-
White-Hair-Who-Dances-For-Creator-In-Stone-Circle. He
wears skin shoes. Moccasins. Removed them to dance. We
think five toes. Foot is about fourteen inches long, but rounded
on inside, not exactly man foot. Close, but different. Put moccs
back on when he exit stone circle!”
“Come, Padre. Show you more tracks.” Padre could read sign,
but while he was almost an expert, he could tell that both Oskar
and Small Bear were, masters, if not grand masters of the craft.
Padre motioned the others, except for Oskar and Small Bear, to
stay back within the confines of the circle as they exited the
sand onto the shorter grasses and trillium blanket outside of
the circle near the Lilly Pad Pond. As they stepped outside,
205
avoiding the slight indications of He-Who-Dances-For-Creator,

Padre mumbled “‘A bove majori discit arare minor’ - The young
ox learns to plough from the older.’” He called out, and
beckoned with his hand, “Knight. Come observe. Do not walk
in front of us. Verily, muchacho, listen and learn. Ask questions
later.”
Tracking sign became interwoven with the tracks of animals
hunting near the pond or coming to drink. Pausing to consult
each other, sometimes standing, Oskar and Small bear
gestured and conferred with Padre.
Knight stood back, but his mesmerizing dark eyes watched and
listened, his sharp memory cataloging the details and
conversation for later. He did not understand much of what
they were saying, but little bits of information and evidences he
could see became indelibly etched into his network of memories.
Padre motioned for the others to follow them, but to stay back.
They followed the barely discernable trail to the little creek that
linked this pond to one of a series of ever ascending pools and
creeks.
About twenty minutes into their trek, they came to a barrel tree
border. The barrel trees, although standing tight and tall,
possessed imperfections, either along the trunks or where a
branch wound around another bole, allowing occasional fist
sized openings where one could gaze through and glimpse
portions of the other side. Traveling east again, the group
walked about twenty minutes and came to an archway in the
barrel tree perimeter. The iron hard barrel trees were so tall
that while walking beneath it, their view of the castle-like
formation of stone that crested the hill had often been obscured,
except where a tree was short or through small warped
openings, where adjacent trunks were not perfectly aligned.
Looking through the narrow archway they saw the distant rock
formation and a trail that wound up to it, through the tor. They
206
had lost the tracks of Shiny-Hair. Oskar and Small bear had
answered Padre’s query by saying that the scant indication had
just vanished. Upon being pressed they had said that either the
being had vanished, or the sign indications were too weak to
find. The opening was too narrow for Padre to use, forcing him
to Far Travel inside the barrier.
When the trackers caught up, Padre asked, “Do you want to
stay on the trail to the rock or go check around the large pool?
Forsooth, the edge of the pond should show more sign than the
rocky sections of this trail.”
Oskar Snow Owl and Small Bear both nodded and carefully
observed the ground ahead of them. Inside the barrier
perimeter the landscape had changed from grasslands to
pockets of oak and maple stands, that dotted the hillsides that
began on each side of the rocky trail. They came at last to the
next pool. It was larger and deeper than the former pools.
Small bear exclaimed, “Small Bear sees mocc tracks at the edge
of the pool!”
Oskar said, “Oskar Snow-Owl sees dim tracks in the pool. Toe
prints. Moccs gone.”
Padre added, “Forsooth, Oskar and Small Bear, unless you see
tracking sign of Shiny-Hair near the pond, I don’t see any.”
Oskar and Small Bear squatted and conferred, observing at
least three steps of terrain between them and the pond.
Oskar finally said, “Padre is right. Who teach Padre to track?”
Padre laughed, “Forsooth, my father taught me a little tracking.
He was the blacksmith and tended the tack and horseshoeing
for a mercenary band.
“Sometimes we would need to find missing horses or back track
one that would comeback without its rider.
207
“You won’t believe it, but the one who taught me advanced
tracking was Arthos! He has a gadget that I can wear on my
helmet that allows him to see what I see. Even though he cannot
leave my compound, if I am wearing it, he can see what I see. I
know it is hard to believe, but even though he was not with me,
he could talk to me. That and experience, by the grace of Jesu
Christo, was my teacher.”
Padre watched the others. Most of them seemed to be confused
by some of his tale, but they had seen too many strange and
inexplicable events, since arriving in Corstevah, to be skeptical.
Knight cried, “There is a bundle of clothing behind that tree!”
Padre exclaimed, “Forsooth, I should have seen that! I was too
occupied by the tracks by the pool, and my story! I missed that.”
Oskar Snow Owl grinned, and Small Bear grunted, at Knight’s
perceptive observation.
Stepping carefully up the slope and around the tree opposite of
the pond, Padre squatted next to the tree. The first item of
clothing was a long armless trench coat, made of reptile-skin.
Below it was a pair of long oval moccasins and an item that
resembled a kilt but made of what he surmised were rabbit
pelts. Padre held up the coat in front of him. “Forsooth, my best
guess is that he is a bit over six feet tall, and much leaner than
I am.” He dusted off a few blades of grass from the jacket and
carefully folded it. Nombre added, “Knight, if you please, hold
this coat for me.”
Knight dutifully held the jacket. Padre unslung his backpack
and pulled out a large neatly rolled drawstring bag crafted of
leather. He slapped the moccasins and kilt against the maple
tree, then placed them with the armless trench coat into the
bag.
“Oskar Snow Owl thinks we should check the other side of the
pool.” Oscar dipped his finger into the pool and carefully tasted
208
it. “Oscar Snow-Owl test water. Sweet. Not bitter like below
pools close to stone circle.”
Padre nodded and watched the two native trackers walk to the
other side of the pool.
“Small bear grunted.” Finally, he said, “More tracks. Smaller
than Shiny-Hair foot. Two or three small heavy men. Strange!
Moccs should show up better, but not clear, even in mud.”
“Oskar Snow-Owl sees small war club!” Hidden beneath a
thicket of pink snowy milkweed, Oskar pulled out a small
wooden club. Only a section of the handle had been visible. The
weapon had been laying near the edge of the pond, concealed
by the drooping blossoms of the pink snowy milkweed plant.
Oskar exclaimed, “Blood!” He sniffed it, dabbed its dried
stickiness with his pointer finger and then licked it. “Not like
ours. Hint of silver taste. Less iron. Color similar.” Oskar
twisted the club. “Hmm. Blood sparkles in sunlight. Strange.”
Small Bear said, “They carry Shiny-Hair away. Not long after
they began following it, the signs became too weak.
“I’ve been thinking, forsooth,” said Padre, as he fingered his
curly black goatee. “I think Shiny Hair can Far Travel like me.
He knew where this big pond was, so he came here, stepped out
of his moccs and tossed them next to that maple tree. Next, he
tossed his jacket and kilt over them. There is sign, but not as
much as there should be, for the little tracks. Even bearing
weight in damp soil and over grass, not as much sign is evident
as there should be. Sounds like---”
“Da! It is zhe Dark Skraelings! Like my father say, hard to

track.”
“Oskar Snow Owl sees track barely ahead. Knows many cloth
layers over moccs trick. If Wind-Elk not explain, could not see
at all.”
209
Padre said, “I feel my danger sense tingling. It is not as strong

as with Ursus Horribilis, but I feel it. I also have a feeling that
we should follow the ascending ponds up to the rock formation
that looks like a castle and look for caves or tracks. We need to
get the lay of the land from that high point of rock.”
The group carefully weaved their way through the stands of
trees and boulders that thickly dotted the hilly forest, following
the pond trail, rather than the rock trail, towards the castle rock
spire. From time to time the group would see track sign, but
precious little.
Medicine Horn sang, “Hey-ey-ey, hey,ey,ey,ey!” He spun in a
circle, kicking his feet, and did an impromptu medicine dance.
Medicine Horn added, “Medicine Horn not afraid now! We are
mighty warriors! We have mighty weapons! We have Magic
Cannon! No enemy can stand against us!”
“Chief Dancer says there is verse that says ‘no weapon formed
against us will prosper.’ That is true. But we must not forget,
Medicine Horn, and friends, that we must be faithful to Jesus
and not fall to enemy because of sin of pride!”
Ahead, at a higher elevation, there was a flattened clearing
about twenty-five feet in diameter. Padre stared momentarily, a
sense of forbidding clouding his mind. He whispered, “Forsooth,
Chief Dancer is right! Head for that clearing. No talking now
unless absolutely necessary. And no more Native singing and
dancing until we are in a safe place!”
Carefully they wended their way through a stand of oaks and
entered the center of the clearing. A head and above them only
a short distance away, the hill began to crest into the formation
of black lumpy rock that looked like the ruins of a once mighty,
now fallen castle. Padre was not the only member of the group
who wondered if the imagery of a crumbling castle was a bad
omen.
210
Suddenly there was a strange shrill ringing that grated against

their ears. Mouths gaping in shock, everyone stared around the
group, and into the foreboding forest, awash with panic and
fear.
“Medicine Horn hears bad spirits! Quick! Padre must slay them
with Magic Cannon!”
“Silence, Medicine Horn!” Padre scowled, patted his chest
pockets, and then felt along the utility belt of his armor. He
flipped open a lidded pouch and pulled out a thin rectangular
device of about five inches wide and eight inches long. He pulled
it out, flipped it up, and the cover flicked back and held
position.
The crystal screen showed a picture of Scholar Ben grinning
from ear to ear, “Nombre my hombre, how are you! I am sorry
I missed your call. Are you able to talk now? Tyler and Stella
wanted to meet you.”
Padre looked up, flushing, “Sorry my friends. It is just Scholar
Ben. He is contacting us on the communication device given to
us by the archons.”
While the surprise and fear drained out of everyone, replaced
by curiosity, Padre held the phone up, crystal face out to his
friends, and introduced the group to Scholar, Tyrel, and Stella.
Tyrel and Stella were almost as surprised by the advanced
technological video audio device as much as Padre’s group.
Tyrel and Stella had used old fashioned dial up phones, but the
marvel of seeing, hearing, and talking with distant people was
still too much for them to process.
Small Bear asked, “Small Bear wants to know how Padre meet
little fairy people?”
They watched as Scholar Ben, Tyrel and Stella laughed.
211
Scholar Ben said, “Indubitably my new friends, I assure you, we

are not of the fairy species. We are humans just like you. Have
you explained the concept of your Captain’s scope to them,
Padre? Much in the same way we appear smaller, as you view
us on the communicator, when you use that spy glass of yours,
things appear larger and right next to you, when they are not.”
Padre sighed, “I will explain that to them later. I miss you
Benachmanidies. I am glad to meet your new friends Tyrel and
Stella, but we are on a dangerous mission now, and entering
dangerous unknown territory.
“I will ring off and contact you when I can. May Jesu Christo
bless you all.” Padre snapped the lid closed on the ancient
communication device and placed it back into the hard leather
belt pouch.
Padre suddenly threw up his left hand and exclaimed in a
hushed cry, “Deja de habler!”
Then the paladin placed his finger to his lips and whispered,
“My danger sense is increasing. I will explain the
communications device to you later when we are safe!”
Rather than being single file behind Oskar and Snow Owl, the
others were spread out on either side and around Padre. He
thought about the Pulse Cannon, but the door was locked on
the donut necklace and the hand units were contained in the
cylindrical protective containers. Additionally, too many people
were positioned so he could not safely use the device. He did
not want to have any, as the archons had called it, ‘friendly fire
incidents’ or risk turning any of his friends into Medusa Stones.
Padre started pulling out his katana. He never cleared leather.
Suddenly Padre was spun like a top. He kept his balance, but a
short spear pierced his back thigh. The armor had been
penetrated by the blow, but it felt as if the barb had not pierced
212
him deeply enough to wound him seriously. Padre thought

about pulling it out, but decided to wait until after the battle,
fearing that pulling out the spear, if it were deeper than he
thought, would result in losing blood too quickly.
Looking around him the ex-Templar noticed that Wind-Elk was
the only member of the party standing. She was crouched in a
defensive position brandishing her daggers in front of her.
Padre was relieved when he noticed that the placement of her
feet and hands bespoke some familiarity with the art of knife
fighting.
But to his horror, all of the natives, and Sully McCloud were
suddenly on their backs on the ground. Medicine Horn, blood
dribbling from his mouth, was pinned by a spear. Medicine
Horn, skewered through his neck, was bleeding, profusely.
Oskar Snow-Owl and Small Bear were also pinned to the
ground. Oskar through his arm and Small Bear through a
thigh.
Knight was quickly standing, shock, fear and determination
fighting for dominance in his expression as he swirled, spear
ready, facing their invisible opponents.
Padre’s mind spun. Feeling his resolve fleeing he mumbled his
battle prayer. Catching his breath and focusing on the scene,
he tensed for combat. Once again, Padre was hit, but by instinct
he deflected the spear thrust, and did not fall. This time Knight
was knocked over, a short spear had gashed his thigh, but had
not pinned him to the ground. Chief Dancer went down with a
spear thrust through the arm, but he had been knocked
unconscious upon hitting a rock. Sully McCloud was also lying
unconscious on the ground with a spear thrust through his
thigh, but he had a bruise on his forehead.
Wind-Elk fell forward, dropping her knives as a small throwing
club, like the one found by the pool, where Shiny Hair had been
213
bathing, bounced off the rear of her cranium, behind her ear.
Blood trickled from the back of her head and pooled on the
grass, but otherwise she seemed unhurt, only unconscious.
“Where are they coming from!” exclaimed Knight. “Why can’t I
see them, Padre!”
“Quiet muchacho! Watch me now! Listen! Do what I do!”
whispered Padre.
Knight almost missed it when Padre closed his eyes. Knight
jumped to a position with his back to Padre, closed his eyes and
listened.
Padre heeded the aural environment carefully, tuning out
Knight’s breathing and the wildlife symphony of the forest glen.
He heard the swish of an attack. Instead of meeting his body,
the Dark Skraeling met the thrust of the paladin’s katana and
died screaming at Padre’s feet. Padre finally jerked the short
spear from the back of his thigh.
The other Dark Skraeling, lying at Knight’s feet, almost at the
same time, expired, but not as quickly. Both Dark Skraelings
materialized as they were dying. They were small, and wizened
humanoids. Ugly faced men, with lumpy heads, slant eyes, long
bulbous noses and narrow jutting, jimber-jawed chins, the
thick-chested brutes lay bleeding and still in death. Both were
dressed in ragged sour smelling poorly crafted animal hides. As
soon as they had appeared, the light bending technology no
longer hiding them, the metallic and leather armor bracers fell
off their forearms onto the grass.
Suddenly Wind-Elk vanished. Gone as well was the lifeless body
of Medicine Horn.
214
For the rest of the adventure, read PXE749559, Sanctuary

Planet: Book Two!
215
216
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Writing has been a journey with many waysides for Mr. O'Conner. He began
reading at an early age and dreamed of becoming a well-known author.
While attending a writing club in Spooner, Wisconsin, several years after

college, a well-known fantasy writer (she specializes in Arthurian mythology and
strong female lead characters) and member of the group, said that she loved his
writing and didn't know why he couldn't get published.
Over the years friends eagerly read his poetry and short stories. Most who read
the short story “HILBERT SPACES AND XIBALBAN GOLD,” said they
couldn't put it down until they had finished it. Mid-West Book Review gave
Wayne O’Conner an honorable mention for promising new author for his
short story book, Adventurer’s Horn in 2014. After that, Mr. O'Conner began
writing more books like PXE749559-Sanctuary Planet: Book One. Mr.
O’Conner currently resides in Medford, Wisconsin.
Visit me at wayneoconner.com!
217

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PXE749559-

Planet PXE749559: BOOK ONE

is dedicated to my cousin Rodney Brandstatter.

July 25, 1950 - September 1, 2017

Rodney Allen Brandstatter, 67, passed away in Smithfield, UT, on Sept. 1,

1 Will of the Divine Council 1

While such information is true in the world of

Please do not shout heresy or unscriptural or

This is a work of fiction!

The rebellion which had spanned galaxies was at last quashed,

WILL OF THE DIVINE COUNCIL

PSALM 82 God has taken his place in the divine

“That concludes today’s meeting of the Divine Council, my

The Great Elohim vanished from the misty white halls of

After leaving and appearing back on Planet PXE749559,

white ambassadorial gowns and scintillating wing-cloaks, a stiff

Planet PXE749559 contained a supercontinent called

Eastern Corstevah was a great valley, boasting a vast flat

The oval room, of the inter-dimensional space, that conjoined

The only furniture in the austere room were two high-backed

Both chairs had been designed to comfortably fit two broad

Archon Jazzaziel laced his long fingers over his knuckles,

Jazz shrugged, then mumbled, “That is true; His Majesty be

Archon Jazzaziel, although he looked in bodily profile, like a

Jedd’s complexion was slightly darker, so he resembled a gypsy,

Whereas Jedd’s eyes were brilliant scintillating emeralds, Jazz

Both by personality were calm, dignified, and compassionate,

Jazz had once commented to Jedd, “I am disinclined to gad

Jedd replied, “Yes, Brother, this new revelation is indeed

Jazz sighed, “I shall hate to lose my man-servant. While my gift

Jazz sighed, “Still seven hundred years is a long time. Maybe I

“Even though we have an eternity,” replied Jedd, “it seemed as

“Tyrel and Stella,” answered Jedd. “We don’t want to overwhelm

Jazz groaned, “That is a matter of opinion, says I!” He added,

“Fine, Brother, and concerning ‘The Four?’”

Jedd rolled his eyes, then exclaimed sarcastically, “The little

“No, Brother,” offered Jazz, “I can’t claim that you are

tell them, that they have permission to do what they’ve been

Jazz replied, “So, do you want me to ride shotgun on that task,

“No,” counseled Jedd, “I think we should both appear before

Jazz said, “Agreed. How about we bestow the new assignments

Jedd grinned, “We have an accord!”

Both Cosmocratic Executive Assistants to Elohim the Most

Following a loud mechanical hum, and flash of light, Nombre

Almost in unison, Nombre and Ben exclaimed, “You rang, sir?”

Both attendants stepped forth and watched expectantly the face

“Nombre, my hombre, you will receive a small chapel in the

The hard-bony ridges that had formed over the centuries on

“You, Nombre, Paladin and Cleric, will also be given a gift,

“Note that since this planet is a Restricted Access Sanctuary

“Unfortunately, there are two ways the enemy has gained a

“But I digress. Back to your new spiritual gift, Padre. Just as

can see in a digital picture or remember in his mind, from his

“We have also activated a set of the Ancient hand-held

“While the race of Draconians native to this planet, that were

He added, “Ben, my old friend, I am truly sorry, but you will

Jazz declared, “The details of your mission are found on the

Jazz and Jedd disappeared without a trace.

Nombre and Benachminides, who had shared visits,

Padre Nombre, a retired knight, who had wandered ancient

dark secrets behind the Templars, but he had been sheltered

Scholar Ben, the descendent of a famous Jewish teacher, had

Jazz and Jedd had reappeared in a small rural village on Earth.

Jazz knocked upon the door, knowing that he would be just as

Sanctuary Planet Book 1 - Wayne O'Conner

Sanctuary Planet Book 1 - Wayne O'Conner