(a sequel to Rainbows and Pots of Gold)

 

by

 

Linda Delaney and Jane Daffron

 

 

(Authors’ notes…  This is a strong story with some very strong sexual content.  It is the story of what really happened in the part of Rainbows and Pots of Gold that Admiral Nelson glossed over.  It is, in part, a very dark tale and we want to warn our readers.  There are some scenes that may make you uncomfortable.  In fact, there may be parts you will not want to read.  Bearing all that in mind, we hope that you find this, at least, an interesting tale.
Linda and Jane )

 

To our readers;

We thought that perhaps a synopsis of ‘Rainbows and Pots of Gold’ might help some of  you understand the ramifications of this story.

 

 

Synopsis:

 

The Senior Staff of the Institute is gathered with their families for Dinner at the Nelson Residence at the Institute.  They are driven inside by a rain storm, that shortly after produces a double rainbow much to the delight of Sean Nelson.  The story of the rainbow brings questions, and Nelson begins to tell the story of  a trip the boat took to an enchanted Island, many years ago. 

 

On this Island, Lee and Nelson come in contact with a druid, a sprite, and a sidhe.  The Sidhe is Silve, a Lhiannon Sidhe, a vampire spirit.  She decides that she wants Lee Crane, and she bites him, and feeds on him two times.  The men are also involved in a ceremony that Nelson does not talk about to the children, and that the men have not shared with their wives, and girlfriends.

 

The Admiral glosses over a lot of the details, leaving much of the story untold to the young ones, and ends the tale with a happy ending, and ‘they all lived happily ever after’.   This is what really happened on the Island…

 

 

 

    Inguz – Fertility

 

 

Present Time, the Nelson home, after the story in Rainbows & Pots of Gold…

 

 

The house was still…all the guests had left.  Yet there was an air of uneasiness that had settled over the great home at the head of the hill at the Nelson Institute of Marine Research.  Inside, Admiral Harriman Nelson and his wife, Karen, began to change for bed.  It had been a rather long day.  They had spent hours doing paperwork and other assorted chores, then later had the other members of the Senior Staff and their families to the house for dinner.  After a torrential downpour had driven everyone inside, their son, Sean, had seen a rainbow once the weather cleared and asked his father about it.  This, in turn, had led to the telling of a story about the men, the boat, and an Enchanted Island that had appeared off the coast of Ireland.  Nelson had decided to relate the story in such a manner as to not frighten the children.  Throughout the story, glances had been exchanged between the men, and the women present had realized that there was a great deal more of this story than was actually being told.

 

Karen Nelson was now sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing her favorite bedroom attire, one of her husband’s khaki shirts.  She watched Harry as he hung his things in his closet and pulled on a blue robe.  Studying him as he moved quietly about, she reflected on the story he had told earlier in the evening.  Something about it didn’t set right with her and she had realized, very early on, that it was the ‘squeaky clean’ version that he had told.  Pondering his slow movements and his quiet spirit, her curiosity finally got the better of her and she finally asked, “Okay, Harry, what was the real story?  What really happened there?”

 

“Hunh?  Oh!…sorry, Karen…I was thinking…”  He seemed distracted and she knew it was because of the evening’s tale.

 

“I know.  I can see that…so, now tell me…what really happened on that island?  And let’s dispense with the Tinker Bell saga…I know you well enough to know you did that so that the kids, our son in particular, wouldn’t end up with nightmares.”

 

He slowly closed the closet door and sat on the edge of the chair next to the dresser.  Leaning forward, he rested his head on his open hands then ran his fingers through his hair.  In a voice quiet with dread, he finally answered, “Oh, it was a nightmare, alright.  On the Island, I tried to kill Lee…”

 

“Harry?”  Over the years, she’d been privy to some of the stories of some of the more rather unusual missions Seaview had had…as well as the dire consequences…so his answer, as well as his demeanor, confused her.

 

He raised his head, his eyes now filled with a pain she’d never seen before.  “He was … tied… to this altar… they forced me to drink some kind of drink, it was drugged with something…  I could see, but I had no control… my body was doing what they wanted it to, and I couldn’t stop.  They had put markings on his body and, in the firelight, they looked alive…  I looked and I had this stone knife in my hand, then I saw, or at least I thought I saw, one the monstrosities move across the altar…and I stabbed it….  But what I really stabbed was Lee!  My God, Karen…  I was ready to stab it again and again.  But then someone grabbed my hand…. I know it was Chip…and then I lost consciousness.  The next thing I remember was waking up in Sick Bay.”  Tears blurred his blue eyes as he whispered, “God in Heaven…I almost killed Lee Crane.”

 

“Harriman, from what you just said, you had no control over what you…”

 

“But I should have.  I’m stronger than that!  I should have fought it more!  You don’t … you can’t…understand this.  I had my hand on his chest, on that monstrosity of a painting of the Horned God that they’d put on him…I stabbed him.  I had his blood on my hands, Karen!!!”  Turning from her, he hung his head and his eyes glazed with the beginning of tears.  The torture of the burden he had carried all these years had finally come crashing down around him. 

 

Sensing his immediate need, she quickly got off the bed and went to him, reaching out and cradling his head against her chest.  Nothing she could say would take this pain away from him and yet, the severity of his pain puzzled her.  He and Lee had been through some strange and horrendous things before, both had tried to kill the other, several times if the truth be told…but this incident seemed to be far worse than anything she’d ever known him to relate to her.

 

Finally, after several minutes of unspoken comfort, he looked up at her, his eyes still filled with an unrelieved pain.  “And there’s more…much, much more…”

 

Cautiously she said, “I don’t believe this… how much more can there be?”

 

He sighed heavily, still holding tightly to her.  Then, finally letting go, he took her hands into his.  Sitting back in the chair, he explained, “A year later, we got another call from the Irish…concerning the Island.  It had mysteriously reappeared.  However, this time, the appearance wasn’t benign.  They were reporting storms and upheavals…appearances of a Druid of old in the night, wearing black robes, carrying weapons as well.  The locals said he was taking all the young people from their families…boys and girls…their ages ranging from 13 to 14 years old.  Just suddenly appearing and coming into the homes and taking them at night.  Somehow…someone got a picture.  The Druid… he looked like Lee…”

 

“My God!  Like Lee?  How?”

“He, ah…it was his son…”

 

“His son?” she drew a deep breath and looked at her husband.  “Harriman…I think you better tell me the whole story… now.”

 

Moments went by, his hands still tightly grasping hers.  Then slowly, painfully, “I don’t even begin to understand all of it but Lee Crane had a son by the Lhiannon Sidhe, Silve…as a result of the Ceremony.”

 

Karen was having a hard time digesting what he’d just told her and coupling that with the story he’d told the children earlier.  “Are you telling me that …this….Silve… this Sidhe, seduced Lee to get pregnant?”

 

His voice became more hushed.  “Remember, we’re not dealing with the real world here, Karen.  And he wasn’t seduced, Karen. Not at all!  It was…  It…it was all part of the ceremony.  He was used.  Used to impregnate them…there were seven women that night.”

 

She was clearly stunned by the revelation of her husband’s words.  “Used…?”

 

Nelson took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.  “He was tied to the altar… painted… branded… drugged.  The vampire had bitten him twice…the Old Druid said he’d been…prepared…  They’d done unspeakable things…”

 

“Harriman, you’re telling me that Lee was …used…by these seven women…as a tool for impregnation, and you couldn't prevent because you were unable to?”  Karen was struggling to keep her own voice on an even keel.  Yet her own heart was breaking at the incredible story he was now relating and at the obvious pain her husband was in.

 

“Yes …he was, in front of hundreds of beings as part of an ceremony, a most integral ceremony, so he would father the one being that would retake the world for the ‘old ones’ and free them from the Island.  Take them from the Shade into the Light.”

 

She searched his tormented eyes for understanding.  “My God, Harriman!  Does he … remember any of it?”

 

“I don’t know…  I couldn’t stop it…I was tied up, gagged…held by two druids…I couldn’t move…I don’t know.”  His voice full of remorse as he continued, “He remembered the attack …but the rest… the wounds, the brand…  He didn’t know… And his recovery took such a long time, that after a while, he never asked.  After the second incident, he was ‘treated’ to forget that it…all of it.  I think it helped keep all the memories at bay.”

 

Karen’s gaze held his, both filled with pain that no one could describe.  “Have you ever told him that you knew…what you saw…how you tried to stop it…” Her face was ashen white with the images he was painting.

 

He gripped her hand and shook his head to the negative.  “After the second encounter, we never spoke of any of it again…  None of us…  Chip saw someone for a while about it all…  Tonight…tonight was the first time I even thought of it in all these years.  I don’t know what…brought it all back.  I’ve kept it locked away inside… all this time…until now.  All the memories have returned.”  He stopped for a moment as a slightly confused look crossed his face.  “Why I told that story, I don’t know.  Maybe…maybe I thought that if…if I was…telling it as a child’s story…it’d make all the reality of it go away.” 

 

Warily, he added, “You know…there’s an element of truth to every child’s tale and legend…and it’s usually worse than we ever want to remember.”

 

“Maybe…or maybe, subconsciously, you felt it was time…time for the truth to come out.  And maybe you could start by telling me what happened, if…if you can handle doing that…”

 

He shook his head again, then rose and went to the small safe in the back of his closet.  He opened it carefully and took out a book, one of his personal logs.  He handed it to her and then sat opposite her.  “Go on and read it.  I wrote out everything that happened the first time we were on the Island.  Chip only knows what he saw and was horrified enough.  The men…well, they were told not to speak of it, and in all truth, I actually think Sharkey and the others may have blocked it out.”  He stared at his hands, turning them back and forth, the light catching the gleam of the gold wedding band he wore.  “That journal begins after I lost consciousness, after Lee was attacked the second time.  Don’t ask me how I knew some of it… I don’t know and in a way…I don’t want to know.  If you have questions…I’ll try to answer them the best I can.”  Shaking his head sadly, “It was long ago…so very long ago…”

 

Karen looked at him carefully, sat back down on the bed, and then opened the leather bound journal…

 

 

PERSONAL JOURNAL, HARRIMAN NELSON, USN, ret.

 

“I write these words down here, only so that I can rid myself of the nightmare we all have gone thru.  In all my life, I have never been so frightened of things beyond my control, nor have I felt so helpless.  I must write of these things so that I can go on, and put these memories away forever…”

  Jera – Cycle of one year

 

Years earlier – the first time on the Island…

They led him to the altar in the center of the stones.  He gave them no resistance.  He was completely powerless, weakened by Silve's second feeding on him.  His body barely had enough blood left in it to remain functioning.  His mind saw nothing, his body felt nothing.  At that moment, he merely was a shadow of the man that had landed on the island the day before.  He stood before the altar, clad in a white hooded robe, surrounded by the six women…

 

After Silve had fed on him for a second time, she gave him over to the women to prepare him for the ceremony.  They had taken him from the hillside .The six women, all blonde and fair skinned, led him to a steaming pond.  They stripped him of the remains of his bloodied, torn clothes; then shedding their own coarse robes, led him into the warm steaming water.  One of them held a goblet to his mouth and he drank the mixture of wine, honey, and herbs because his body was craving fluid from the blood loss.  His awareness of what was happening had fled, and his body was simply going thru automatic reactions.  The person that was Lee Crane had ceased to exist on all but the deepest subconscious level.

 

The potion filled him with a warm feeling, easing the pain of his many wounds from Silve's long nails, the pain in his neck, and it wiped away the last tiny vestiges of control...

 

The women poured potions from several bottles and began gently to bathe and wash his body.  He could do nothing but accept their attentions.  They massaged and stroked him, admiring the strong legs and arms, the tight buttocks, the broad shoulders, the planes of his chest and back, which though badly damaged, still showed their strength.  They poured more potions onto their hands and began to work their way to that part of him that held the most interest, that which was to be the most important in the coming ceremony.  They massaged his stomach, his inner thighs, and then his groin, putting several layers of oils on his genitals and manipulating the testicles and penis until they began to swell with the constant attention.

 

His body felt intense warmth and sudden need.  He struggled to look at the women, to focus, to see them, but to no avail.  His mind and will were lost to the overwhelming sensations driving all vestiges of memory, of right and wrong, all that was the person of Lee Crane to the furthest corners of his subconscious mind.

 

The women smiled at the beginnings of his body’s response and gave him yet another steaming potion to drink, then led him from the water to the side of the pond.

 

They toweled him dry with soft fabric, continuing to manipulate his groin as they led him to a small brazier that stood smoking alongside the reeds of the lake’s edge.  The steam from the hot springs mixed with the smoke of the burning coals and the incense mixed within.  The smell of the incense was heavy and earthy…extremely sexual.  Two of the women went to their knees in front of him, and the other four surrounded him and pressed their bodies against his, supporting and holding him.  One of the women began to kiss his legs, slowly moving up towards his manhood.  The other began to massage and kiss his testicles and penis until he was groaning with the beginnings of an orgasm.  As he reached his climax, one of the women in front of him reached for the handle sticking out of the brazier, and holding it high above her head, chanted briefly in the old tongue, then laid it on his flesh on the mound that covers the pubic bone.

 

It was an intense, hot, blinding pain at the moment of the intense climax…pleasure and pain mixing and becoming one.

 

He cried out, his loud cry mixing with the soft keening of the women.  He collapsed into the soft, warm bodies that surrounded him, held him, clung to him, pressed against him, the many pairs of hands beginning to caress his body, now covered with a fine sheen of perspiration from the pain and pleasure that had overwhelmed his body.  The smell of the burned flesh now mixed with the other scents in the heavy air, giving a strange, otherworldly essence to this, the first part of the ceremony.  Each woman then moved in a pattern about him so that each could kiss the newly seared flesh, paying homage to the intricate symbol for fertility now permanently branded on his body, on the part that held the greatest significance.

 

The pain from branding was like that which he had never before felt and, in spite of the potions and the pleasure from the spasms of his climax, he had cried out in pain, nothing else.

 

The women then gave him another potion to drink.  After he drank it, they then helped him stand.  The charred flesh throbbed with his movement and they knew it, so they laid layers of oils and potions on it until the center of the throbbing shifted downward to what was becoming the center of his existence… his manhood, his being, his identity…

 

His body now had a need to become one with a woman…a need to die in the ultimate act of self-gratification.  There was no thought, no knowledge of what was going on, only primal instinct, fostered by the herbs and mixtures in the potions he drank, and the oils that were applied.

 

The women then proceeded with the preparations for the Ceremony of the Ages.  They reached for other earthen bottles that lay near by.  Pouring oils and scents into their hands, they massaged and scented his body.  They ran their hands through his hair, massaging his head, using oils to scent his hair, and bringing the curls he strove to control, into glistening, riotous disarray.  They stroked his face, gently wiped at his battered back and chest.  Six sets of hands began to again massage his testicles and his manhood.  His senses were flooded with intense physical desire.  He moaned softly.  He tried to move his hands, to touch them, but he was too weak.

 

His body wanted them…  His physical need wanted to penetrate the warmth of each one of them.  His body needed to release this building fire into a warm, welcome body…and his body needed to do it many times, not once, for his body to have some satisfaction.  His mind had no focus, no realization, no awareness of what was going on…only his body was responding.

 

As his shaft rose again in response, the women smiled at one another and nodded approvingly.  Yes, he would prove more than satisfactory for their use.

 

They took bottles of differing colors of dyes and began to paint his body in the patterns of runes and symbols as ancient as Eire itself.  Carefully, his entire body was covered, even his face.  The symbols for strength, for war, and many for fertility, were painted on him.  On his chest, they drew a large image of the Horned God – Cerrunnos - the God of fertility and the god of the ‘old ones’.  They made each of its’ eyes red, and added a powder that made them glow.  Each one of them in turn took his shaft in hand and kissed and suckled at it, making it grow harder and harder.  He again moaned aloud, his body lost in pleasure and desire.

 

He was aware of the women, the touches, and his body wanted release but they held it from him, instead arousing him further than he, if his conscious mind had been aware, would have ever dreamed was possible.

 

Each woman, in turn, kissed him, long and deep, allowing her naked body to touch and blend with his.  Finally, two of the women painted more runes on his erect penis in the glowing red dye, each of them kissing it one more time.  They also paid final homage to the brand, kissing and licking it, making him moan in pleasure/pain, then painting the blackened tissue glowing red.  Two of the other women then drew a white robe over him and circled him.  They danced around him, circling him seven times, chanting in the old language and using the old words.  They then gave him a goblet of wine laced with the strongest and most powerful of the local aphrodisiacs to prepare him for his part in the final part of the ceremony.  They drew the hood of the robe over his head, leaving him standing in their midst.

 

He stood in the center of the women.  Seeing them, but not seeing, their keening drawing him deeper into wave after wave of simple carnal need, the throbbing of the branded flesh, and in his groin, there focusing on only one thing, his body’s imminent need for release into a woman’s welcoming body.

 

Each of them took a bottle of potion and rubbed it on one another, the potion giving their bodies a gilded look and as it soaked into their skin, and enhancing their sexual desire, freeing them for the rest of the ceremony.  After treating one another, and after painting the signs and runes on their own bodies, they bent to take robes of their own, snow white linen ones replacing the coarse gray.  Two of the women took his hands to lead him and the other four followed.

 

They led him to the altar stone, in the center of the ring of stones.  There were blazing torches all around the circle, and the entire community of the Island had gathered for the Ceremony.  A low keening was heard throughout the ring, as the women brought him to the center. The center of the ring was focused on a stone, worn smooth with years of sacrifice, and more.  The large flat stone, six foot wide, and eight foot long, was black, and stained.  There were rings fixed in the stone, four of them at four equal points.  As they entered the ring, and approached the stone altar, the eyes of all gathered were focused on the man and the women in their center, and they waited in anticipation of that which was coming.

 

One of the watchers’ eyes went wide with horror when he realized what was about to take place.  Harriman Nelson struggled violently but unsuccessfully against the bonds and gag that held him prisoner and had silenced him.  He was, literally, wrapped in coarse cord, bound tightly, and gagged so he could not talk.  He was held upright by two druids and was standing next to Turlough.

 

The head druid looked at his prisoner, and smiled.  "Ye should be proud of yer friend.  He's a brave one.  And that bravery will live on in our people.  He will be the Instrument through which we retake our world.  And he will be remembered fer an eternity, his name said with reverence on the lips of his descendants.  Now be watchin’ his final moments as a man... and be proud o’ him."

 

Nelson's eyes filled with tears of frustration and anger.  He had been unable to help Lee…in any capacity.  And he could do nothing for him now.  All he could do was hope...pray…with all his might and faith…that help would somehow come.

 

The women in the center of the stones dropped their white robes, and danced around the stone, leaving the hooded figure standing, in the center... their naked bodies gleamed and glowed in the light of the torches that encircled the gathering.  The runes and designs on their bodies moved in the firelight. 

 

When they had finished the dance, they moved to Crane and eased the hood off his head.  The curls of his hair ran uncontrolled, gleaming in the light, falling about his face, and giving him an otherworldly look.  The amber hazel eyes, usually bright and vibrant, were now vacant and empty, but the light still made them glow, their emptiness giving them a preternatural luminescence.  The runes on his face pulsed and jumped to life in the light.  Two of the women came to him and held steaming goblets to his lips.  He drank both of them, one at a time.  They pulled back the robe, pinning it open, giving all a view to the Horned God on his chest and allowing his hardened, throbbing penis, glowing with the painted amulets and talismans of old, to be visible to all of the gathering.  Each of the six women touched and stroked it with veneration.  They then led him around the circle, chanting low, as the keening increased in fervor, as all the females, of all the types present, fought to the inner part of the circle to touch, caress, and stroke his pulsing member.

 

His mind was empty, his body had a single focus, a single want and need, to drive into a waiting sheath and explode in the dark soft warmth of a willing woman...the sounds, colors, and touches melded into intensifying physical need for immediate satisfaction.  He saw the lust and desire in all the eyes as they reached for and touched him, and his body longed for release.

 

Once they had made a complete path around the circle, they led him back to the altar and they waited as the keening increased.  In the center, above the altar, Silve appeared, spinning around and around, the keening growing louder, until she landed on the altar stone in the form of a woman.  She had long black hair, ivory skin, blood red lips, and coal black eyes.  She held her arms above her head and slowly moved around so that all could see her, and the intricate tattoo that lay between her breasts, that matched the brand on Crane.  Then she slipped from the altar and went to Lee.  Reaching out, she let the catch at the neck of the robe release, and it fell to the ground, revealing him in all his glorious nakedness.  The face of the Horned God, red eyes glittering, was alive on his chest, the painted runes and symbols covering the rest of his body, pulsing and shifting, his shaft hard and erect, and throbbing.  Those ancient designs on his body came to life as well in the firelight, shifting and twisting with the sound of the keening.  Silve walked to him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him long and deep and grinding her womanhood against him.  He swayed and she dropped to her knees to kiss and suck him.

 

Another set of lips on his, kissing, seeking from him, that which his body was willing, more than willing to give…what it wanted to give…  Her body pressed against his…pressing…grinding…  His body sought to relieve this need, in her, but she pushed him off, going instead behind him and handling him, arousing him even more, and bringing him closer to orgasm.

 

Slowly, she rose, running her hands over his chest and shoulders, kissing his chest, his neck, his throat, her long tongue leaving a shining trail.  She grabbed his buttocks and pulled them to her, forcing his penis to slide between her legs, to be moistened by her warm wetness.  Hungry for him, but knowing that she had to wait a while longer, she slid behind him, running her hands over his hips and thighs, her hands stopping to examine the fresh brand, and smiling, caressing it lovingly.  She continued to roam his body, until her hands came to rest on his pulsing shaft.  As she licked and chewed on his neck, preparing to begin her final draining of his blood, she sucked his life force, as she stroked and pulled on his member until he exploded, and he cried out as a stream of creamy white semen shot high into the air.

 

His body shuddered in release!  Needed release!!!  The sensations were blinding… sweet… pounding with the beat of his heart…she was biting him, draining him… and he wanted her to finish… to give him that final ecstasy… and yet, her continued worship of his body made him continue to need more…and more…

 

The women’s keening grew louder, and they all moved around him, and holding and caressing him, made him harden again.  They then laid him on the altar, binding him to it.  They spread his arms and legs far apart, and fastened them with enough of the coarse rope to prevent much movement on his part. 

 

His body was cold and hot all at once…  His arms were being stretched as far as they could be, and further, and fastened tightly with rope to the rings in the stone.  He couldn’t move his arms, his torso… He felt them stretching his legs far apart, adding to the strain already in his groin… the tightness and stretching of his legs made the tenseness in his groin increase further…  He was aware of the cold stone beneath his buttocks, his legs, his torso…but his groin, his penis… there he was hot!!  So hot!!  His body had to have release!

 

One of the women then climbed atop the altar, and after kissing him, lay atop of him, touching the shifting designs, kissing the pulsing glowing eyes of the god painted on his chest.  She slid lower and kissed the lips of the god that rested on the flesh above the pubic bone.  She kissed the brand and then his penis and sat up.  Leaning over, she plundered his mouth and quickly mounted him, moving slowly but deliberately on his engorged shaft until he came into her, filling her…leaving her satiated as well.  Recovering, she climbed off him and began to kiss and suck at his penis until it became hard and pulsing again.  Then the next woman mounted him and repeated the performance.  Six times he came, sending his seed into each one...  With the completion of each act, the keening became louder, the moans and cries of the beings wanting to see more, and more, waiting to see that final act that would take their kind on the path to what was rightfully their world.

 

His body having orgasm after orgasm, yet none of them giving him the total release his body sought, the absolute relief it needed.  Each one had left his body unsatisfied, unfulfilled, although each one had been stronger than the one that preceded it.  His body wanted more… and more…

 

And then Silve, Lhiannon Sidhe, climbed onto the altar

 

As she ran her hands over his tortured body again, one of the women handed her a goblet.  She held it to his lips, as two of the women raised his head so he could drink.  He drained the cup, and she threw it to the ground then leaned forward to kiss him, sliding her body atop his.  Finishing the deep kiss, she bit him, and then took her finger and dipped it in the blood.  She took the blood and traced the symbols on his penis in his own blood.  His shaft was becoming harder and harder and she smiled, kissing him several more times, and then, quickly mounting him.  Once on him, she rode hard until his climax, and as he came within her, she changed form into the vampire creature, and shrieked with her own climax.  She removed herself from him and made several passes over his body, slicing the skin anew, and causing the keening to become more and more shrill....

 

A cup was pressed to his lips…He drank…  New warmth flooded his body, fresh desire pounding in his groin…  He was kissed, and returned the kiss, his body hungry for her, seeking the release her body on his promised…She bit him and she saw him feel the sharp pain as she played with him…  She then mounted him, and he groaned as she began to ride him, slowly at first…then harder with each succeeding stroke, until his explosion was imminent.  At just that moment, her face and being suddenly transformed to that of the demon, and he came into her with a soul shattering force that at once satisfied his body and left him senseless …

 

After that climax, she flew to Turlough, and staring him in the face, sang out...  "His seed is here.”  She waved her hands over her abdomen.  “Even now, ... it begins to grow...in but three days his time, his son and mine will be born...  We will begin the path to take our rightful place... his son will lead us.  Your maidens also carry his seed....  Seven times seven he has given us...  We will be fruitful with his offspring...  There will be many of his to lead us from here ... We begin now…and now…you, Druid…now you must complete the ceremony lest we lose the benefit of this blessing...there is one more part that you have to see to."  And quickly she spun away.

 

In the circle, the women had returned to the man on the altar, and were circling it, their hands touching and caressing him as he lay there, on the tiniest edge of awareness…  His penis was hardening again with their touches…pulsing and wet with the semen and fluids from the seven couplings. There was blood all over him, all over the altar, from the last caresses of Silve, and at his wrists, and ankles, where the tight rope had cut deeply

 

He was aware that he was dying, leaving this world, yet he also had the awareness that it was not the death that he had expected.  He soul was being called to be with the dark-haired demon that drank his blood.  She wanted him to be her mate, to share the otherworld with her…  Somewhere, he knew he didn’t want to spend his eternity with her, but he also knew that with one more step, his fate would be sealed.  He gave over to the weariness.  His body was spent.  His spirit trapped and tied to the female demon, and what would seem to be his eternal damnation he sought the blackness, and waited for his fate to be decided.

 

Turlough looked at Nelson.  The Admiral, barely conscious from his own struggles, had heard Silve's words and shivered with the meaning of them.  One of the druids took off the gag and Nelson inhaled deeply.

 

"We've one more step to the ceremony, Harry, and ye'll be playin' yer part.  Fer the spells and enchantments ta have their full benefit, the Horned God must be slain by his best friend.  I told ya, we allowed ya here fer a reason…Ye’ll be the one doing the sacrifice… ye’ll be the one giving him ta Silve fer eternity… he’ll be at her side when their son conquers yer world.  And ye’ll be the instrument o’ his destruction…"

 

“No!  No! I won’t!!  I won’t do it!!”  Nelson cried out frantically as he began to struggle violently against the bonds.  He fought, trying hard to free himself, but the druids had been thorough.  The harder he fought, the tighter the restraints became. 

 

Turlough nodded to one of the druids holding Nelson and he went off a few feet, returning with a large goblet filled to the brim with a foamy mix.  It was a sour-smelling brew, looking bitter and noxious, Turlough continued to speak, as one druid held the cup to Nelson's lips, and another held his nose closed, so that he had no choice but to drink, or choke.  When they had finished making sure that Nelson had downed the entire contents of the cup, the Chief Druid smiled.

 

 "Ahh, but ye will, Harry… ye’ll have no choice.  Ye'll be feeling the effects of the potion quickly.  Yer mind'll go, and ye'll hear, but not know, and do my biddin’ wi'out question.... I’m very glad you came...  Ya were able to help us more than ye’ll ever know.”

 

Turlough was right.  The potion took effect quickly, and soon all that Nelson had left was a vague awareness.  He felt the pressure on his body give and knew his hands and body were free.  He heard a voice, didn't hear the words, but understood on some level what he was to do. He felt pressure in his hand, and knew that something was being pressed into it.  He knew that he was moving, but didn't know how and why, or even what he was doing.  He saw the body on the altar, but didn’t recognize it, instead being drawn to the pulsing, twisting, throbbing tattoos that covered it.  He found himself staring at the red eyes of the Horned God, and instead of being repulsed, being drawn in instead.  Reaching out to touch one of the creatures, he felt the thing move in his hand, and pulled back, revolted by it.  Looking down, he saw that in his hands was a stone knife.  He wondered at its presence there, but accepting it, he reached out again for one of the designs on the body.  Crane moved slightly and one of the creatures appeared to jump across his body, sliding over Nelson's hand.  Repulsed by the thing, he took the knife and brought it down on the creature.  There was a cry from the thing beneath it and Nelson took away a hand covered in blood.  Nelson thought he had killed it, since he didn’t see the body, only the creatures, and he resolved to do away with them all, no matter the cost.

 

He felt the weapon penetrate his shoulder… the pain was great…  Suddenly, clearly aware of his body, he felt the stone knife as it ripped and tore flesh and muscle, as it struck bone, with jarring intensity, and was pulled out.  He cried out, the cry one of pain, mixed with the knowledge that the next blow would lead to his eternal damnation.  He became aware once again, of the cold stone beneath him, of the body with the knife poised above him, and he knew, with sudden, final clarity, and greater regret, who it was that would send him to Hell…

 

Several more of the creatures moved, and brushed Nelson’s hand, and he raised his hand high above his head to strike again, when it was captured by another hand, and stopped.  He felt pain, and then nothing, as he collapsed into blackness.

 

 

  Berkana – Growth - Fertility

 

Present Time…the Nelson home…

 

Karen Nelson looked up from the journal as she finished the last word on the page, half way through the book.  Her eyes slowly raised and met his in a terrifying gaze.  For one of the very few times in her life, she was horrified and speechless.  Moments passed silently…she truly didn’t know what to say to her husband.  No wonder he wanted to keep the exact details secret.  And yet, he’d carried this horrendous secret and guilt for all these years.  Guilt over something he could not stop…guilt over something he’d had no earthly power to halt.

 

Struggling to find her voice, she slowly closed the journal and whispered, “Harriman…this can’t be true.  It can’t be…”

 

“It…is.  Every word of it.”  He got up and slowly walked over to the open window and stood with his back to her.  The moon had risen in the night sky and there was a slight breeze that gently blew the curtains against him. 

 

All the memories he’d hoped to suppress…that he’d hoped time would erase, came flooding back.  Why on earth had he chosen that particular story to tell…why???  Even he wasn’t sure!  Maybe Karen was right.  Maybe his own subconscious mind was saying that it was time to deal with the realities of what happened, so long ago. 

 

“And he has no memory at all of any of this?  Any of it at all?” she asked and came over to him, slipping her arm around his waist in order to try to comfort him.

 

“No…he wasn’t in any shape to when we got back on board.  He was almost dead. Jamie and I…felt it best that he not know too much.  I think the drugs…whatever they gave him…caused him to block a lot of it out.  Sometimes, the mind can provide the best defense against horrendous things.”  He quietly reached for her hand.  “Go on, and read the rest of it, because, in Sick Bay, when I woke up, Chip…”

 

 

   Ehwaz – the Sacred Horse - Fertility

 

Years earlier… after the first time on the Island…

 

 

Later that night, Chip stole into Sick Bay.  Jamison was asleep at his desk.  Several monitors clicked and pinged for both men, as Corpsman Frank Lerner moved between the two gurneys, watching silently.  He nodded to Morton, who pulled a stool to Crane's bedside to begin his vigil.

 

Sitting on the high stool, he shook his head and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.  A hospital gown covered Lee, hiding most of the markings and bandages that covered his body.  Chip shook his head slowly as he spoke to the unconscious man.  "Lee, buddy, I don't know all that you got yourself into, but State's been on the horn with the Irish Government, raising holy hell over your condition and the Admiral's.  Angie called from the Institute…she had some information from Intelligence.  McNally and O'Flaherty have been put on administrative leave because they wanted to leave you and the Admiral behind…damn idiots didn’t even want to affect a rescue and I raised holy hell.  After we got back here on the boat, the Island disappeared, Lee, it just plain out disappeared…didn't sink.  It just vanished.   The Irish government won't say anything else and have closed the book.  But after what I witnessed, what we all saw…well, I guess your report will be one for the books, to say the least…"

 

Morton shook his head, his mind still refusing to accept all the things he'd seen there…he sat and listened to the monitors, their sound like a lullaby to his frayed nerves, there was something reassuring in the pings, and beeps that at this time was soothing to him. Sitting at Crane's side, Chip had started to doze, when he heard a quietly resonant voice softly call him.

 

 "Chip…" Nelson's eyes were open and he was watching the Exec.

 

"Admiral!" his voice was one of surprise and pleasure with Nelson's awakening…"How are you feeling?"  Chip moved quickly to Nelson's side, and stood by the gurney.

 

"Lee?  How is he…will he make it?"

 

"Jamie doesn't know…he's baffled by Lee's condition… muttering that if he didn't know any better, he’d believe it was a vampire that did some of this…"

 

With absolute clarity, Nelson replied, "It was…a she-vampire faerie… a Lhiannon Sidhe.  An ancient Celtic spirit."

 

Chip shook his head, "You know…if you had told me that 24 hours ago, sir, I would've had you sent away for a while.  But, after what I …we…saw on that Island…we …watched…we didn't know what to do… we didn’t seem able to stop it...It was almost as if we were tied to the place unable to move for either one of you…Oh, God, Admiral…. Lee…I never…I …  do you think …  Will he…remember…I mean… what was going on?  I… He…what they were doing to him…with him…and…"

 

"Easy, now…” Nelson swallowed hard, reaching for the Exec and gripping his hand, "I need to know how much…you saw…when you came upon the circle." 

 

Chip's face went white as he continued to recall what he witnessed on the island.  "I think it was just as it was beginning.  The women were leading…Lee… around the circle…they were letting the female creatures…touch…" he shuddered with revulsion of the memory… and swallowed hard, "him…” Chip ran a hand over his head, his other hand tucked in his back pocket.  "I didn't know what to do… they continued…we saw you, … saw you being held next to the old man…"

 

"Turlough… the leader of the beings on the Island, " Nelson told him.

 

"And then that she thing…and those women, and Lee…  Admiral, how in God's name is he going to deal with this…will he remember?  I mean, we're no virgins, hardly innocent, either one of us, but… to be …" he searched for a word.

 

"Used?" the Admiral offered.

 

He nodded, his grief for all that he knew Crane had been put through, and for all the more that he didn’t know.  "To be used, like that… like an object…" he shook his head.  "…And those markings…all over his body…"

 

"…Were symbols, runes…to intensify the power of the ceremony," came the explanation.

 

"Admiral, what if…” He swallowed hard again,  "What if a child…."

 

Quietly resigned to what to him were inescapable facts, "There will be… the she thing said so…” A tear glistened in Nelson's eye, "And I don't have an answer, Chip.  Good Lord, I wish I did… we've faced some terrible things, all of us, together…but nothing, nothing like this…what I do know…when that child is born, it’ll be evil and it’ll have to be destroyed."

 

"But how can we destroy it if we don't even know where it is?  I mean…"

 

Nelson sighed heavily.  "We'll just have to wait until it comes to us…and it will.  I know that if I know anything.  It’ll come to us.  Silve thought I would …kill…Lee and finish the ceremony.  You stopped that…Thank God for that at least!"  He sighed again, “By doing that, the ceremony wasn't completed and they'll want him again… to finish it all…to give them, to give the child the final energy."  He looked at Chip, his blue eyes full of a mix of grief and appreciation.  "Thank you for stopping me…  What I did to him was bad enough…if I had gone any further…"

 

"No matter what, sir, I wouldn't have let that happen… I'm just sorry I didn't stop it sooner."

 

"No, you did what you could, when you could… the best that could be done."

 

"Still…I…"

 

"You saved both our lives, Chip, and you prevented me from doing something that I wouldn't have been able to live with.  Thank you, with all of my being…from the bottom of my soul….thank you."  Both men remained silent, spent with the realization of what they had been through.  Then Nelson asked quietly, "Where's Jamie?"

 

Morton smiled slightly, "Asleep at his desk.  Frank knows I'm here, so I didn't want to wake Will."

 

"Go get him now, will you?  I want to know how Lee’s doing and I think I'm going to have to fill him in with all the …details, however unbelievable they may be."

 

"Aye, sir… and, Admiral… I'm sorry that I couldn't have done more, sooner…maybe stopped it…"

 

"Chip, if you had tried, there's a good chance we’d all be dead, and then no one would be able to stop these beings, when they make their next move…. You did exactly the right thing under the circumstances.  That's all that you could do…"

 

"Aye, sir," he said quietly. "I'll go get Jamie…” He left Nelson, going into Jamison's office, lightly placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

 

The Seaview’s doctor sat up with a start.  "What's wrong?” Seeing Morton standing there, he paused, “Oh, Chip…. when did you come in?"

 

"A while ago, Will…” he stood next to the desk,  “ I was sitting with Lee when the Admiral woke up.  He wants to see you… to ask about Lee."

 

Rubbing his eyes and stretching, he rose from the chair.  "I have quite a few questions for him… and you, as well….” He walked into the main cabin of the Sick Bay and stopping at Crane's gurney, checking the IV lines and the monitors.  He called softly to the corpsman, who was in the corner of the Bay. 

 

"Frank, set up another two units of blood… it looks like we're going to need some volunteers for donors on the next watch.  Make the arrangements.  And get those two units hung now."  Lerner nodded, and moved about briskly and efficiently doing his tasks, and Jamison moved to Nelson's bedside.  "How're you feeling, Harry?  You look like hell."

 

The resonant voice replied quietly, "I feel like hell…and I know that I've been there and back. Will, … how's … Lee?"

 

"Alive… barely.  Can you tell me what the hell happened to him?  If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was attacked by a vampire."

 

Again, the reply was a quiet one.  "He was."

 

The look on his face was one of disbelief.  "Good one, Harry…  If I hadn’t seen some of the things I’ve seen on this boat, I could almost believe you…” He looked at Nelson and saw that his face was serious and unwavering.  “C'mon, Harry, you really can't expect me to believe…"

 

"Technically, it's called the Lhiannon Sidhe.  This one's name was Silve.  A faerie that entraps a man and drinks his blood, then uses him for her own needs."

 

"Even so, how do you explain the rest… the dye, the drawing on his chest, all the marks on his body, not to mention, the wounds on his arms and torso, and the wound in his shoulder…” he shook his head  “and that wound, on his lower body…"

 

"It…  It’s a brand, Will.” Jamison’s eyes grew wide with the revelation.  “Lee was used, as part of a ceremony.  There will be children… as a result…half human, half-other…and I …I was supposed to kill him, as part of it..  I stabbed him.  I didn't know it was Lee. I thought it was something else.  They gave me something… all I need to know is…will he be alright?"

 

Slowly shaking his head, he responded, "That explains a lot, Harry.  What I found in your blood, in what was left of his…  All right?  I don't know…I can do what I can do.  The rest…well… God… the fates…whatever you believe… His recovery will be up to them, and as much to him.  I can't tell you anything else."

 

Nelson nodded, grimly. "I want to sit with him.” He shook his head, despairingly,  “ I need to sit with him."  He attempted to rise, only to find that firm hands kept him lying down on the gurney. 

 

"Not now, Admiral Nelson!  Do you think you're here, in my Sick Bay, because you had a light walk in the park?  You were hurt…Understand me, Admiral?  Hurt.  You've got a concussion, some wounds on your back, and a really weird mix of stuff in your blood, half of which I’m not even sure I’ve seen before.  You're here, on your back, for the next 48 hours at the very least.  And if you even try and bust orders, I'll keep you here, under sedation, for a week or longer if I have to!”  He crossed his arms at his chest, taking a most defensive pose.   “Now…is that clear?"

 

Sighing, "Agreed, Doctor.  48 hours.  After that, I will leave."

 

Will Jamison automatically felt the Admiral's forehead.  None of the Senior Staff liked the Sick Bay, and keeping them confined was always a challenge.  For Nelson to agree so easily to his demands made the medic uneasy and suspicious.  "Harry, what are you up to?"

 

"Nothing, Will…I just want to be close…to be here…to see how it goes for Lee.  And if you say  I have to be here, well, then it serves my purpose.  Besides, my back does hurt, and so does my head.  I'll sleep and I won't give you any trouble.  Just, if something should happen, well, wake me.   I'm just tired, too tired to fight with you. " To himself, he reflected, 'And although you don’t know it, my heart is heavy as well.' 

 

"Alright, Admiral…  I'll take your word that you won't give me any problems.  I've got my hands full with our Captain.  I don't want to have to worry about you, too."

 

Nelson settled back into the pillow.  "You won't, Doc, you won't."

 

Jamison left the bedside.  "I'll be checking on you in a couple of hours, Harry.  This had better not be trick on your part," he warned.  He checked on Crane again, making further notes on his chart, and went back to his office, leaving Morton and Nelson alone.

 

Watching until the doctor closed the door to his office, Chip brought his face closer to the Admiral, and asked, sotto voce, "Alright, sir.  Now will you tell me what happened there… before  we saw what we saw… we heard…what went on with you and Lee before we arrived at the circle…My God!! I never in my life dreamed that I would witness something so horrible!" Chip shuddered, and Nelson reached again, and laid a hand on his arm that was resting on the rail.

 

Slowly, the older man said, "Chip, there’s a great deal more to tell you.  About what you saw…and what you didn't see.  But right now, all I want to do is rest.  I'll fill you in on the rest of it later…Can't seem to keep my eyes…open.    Will must…have…" and his eyes closed, his breathing becoming more regular.

 

Chip waited until the Admiral was sleeping, and then he moved back to the stool next to Crane's gurney.  Something told him that there was a great deal more to learn.  Laying his arms on the rail of the gurney, he crossed them and leaned his chin forward, talking quietly to the unconscious man.

 

 

  Isa –Ice and Freezing

 

Sick Bay, several days later…

 

 

Several days later, Lee regained consciousness, and slowly begun to recover.  From the start, he was troubled by horrific nightmares.  Jamison worried about his recovery, medicating him with sedatives, trying to get his psyche to accept that all that he remembered, of what had happened, was over. 

 

As Lee began to heal, there was very little in the way of memory of the events on the Island, but he was plagued with visions and flashes of horrific things that he couldn’t explain.  He wondered at the wound in his shoulder and the remains of marks on his body…  And then there was the wound on his groin…any movement hurt, especially there…and no one would tell him anything, since he had become fully aware

 

He shifted on the rack, wishing he was in the more comfortable bunk in his cabin and wishing that Jamie would disconnect all the damn wires and tubes…all the tubes.  He sighed heavily and wondered, again, at what had really happened on the Island.  He had tried to talk to Nelson about it but the Admiral had hedged away from any deep discussion, and at the time, Lee had been too tired to chase after the answers…  But now it was time; He had to know.  His mind and his body was telling him he had to know.  He sighed again and shifted again on the rack.  The sound of his movement brought Frank Lerner to his side.

 

“How’re you doing, Skipper?” Frank asked, knowing full well what the boat’s Captain would say.

 

He smiled slightly at the Corpsman, “Well, I’d like to get the hell out of here, and out of here now, but I don’t think my doctor’s going to let me.”

 

Lerner nodded perceptively.  “Skipper, you know….”

 

He held up a hand, “Yeah, Frank, I do know… that doesn’t help… and no, I won’t do anything stupid.  However, do you think you could tell Jamie that I want to talk to him?”

 

“Sure, Skipper.”  Uneasily, Lerner continued,  “ I’ll get him, and send him over as soon as I finish here… I… I …umm…I have to check the dressings on the wounds…”  For all of his experience with the Senior Staff, Frank was still uncomfortable with having to examine such an intimate part of the Captain’s body, knowing full well what a private person Crane was.

 

“Go ahead, Frank…the sooner you do, the sooner it’s over with.  It’s okay…really.”  Lee closed his eyes and lay there quietly.

 

Face slightly tinged red, he replied, “Thanks, Skipper…” and he proceeded to check the shoulder and groin wounds.  Quickly, carefully, and efficiently,  he took care of the Captain, and when he was finished, straightened the hospital gown, and pulled up the sheet, saying, “I’ll send the Doc, sir.”

 

Crane reopened his eyes, “Okay… thanks, Frank.”

 

Lee laid there, patiently, and shortly, the boat’s doctor came over to the rack, pulling up a chair, and laying his clipboard on his knees.  “You wanted to talk to me, Lee? I would imagine that now that you are back with us, you have some  questions?”

 

In a voice tinged with  exasperation, “A hell of a lot of them!  Like, for starters…what the hell happened to me, Will?  I don’t remember much.  The attacks by the vampire… vaguely… but the shoulder wound…  I remember feeling the knife or whatever it was.  And that other wound, ...  How did it get there...and what the hell is it?  And this…”  He touched the outlines of the runes on his arms…  “What are these?  How…?”

 

Jamison took a deep breath, knowing that the real explanation should best come from the one person who really knew what happened.  “Lee, I don’t have the answers.  There are physical things that I can explain, but as to what really happened, I’m gonna call the Admiral in.  He’s the one who can tell you what you need to know.” 

 

He signaled Frank to come over, and when the Corpsman did, he told him to call Nelson down to the Sick Bay.  Then he turned back to Crane.  “ Now, let me ask you… how are you feeling?  Any thing I should know about? I mean besides your favorite litany…‘I’m okay and I want out’.  How did you sleep?”

 

“Not too well.… those pills that you slipped me, and yes, I know that you’re slipping me pills…they help me get to sleep, but I can’t sleep long before the nightmares start up.  And then, well, let’s just say that I don’t get much sleep after that.  It’s not that I’m not trying to sleep. Just that I can’t get back to sleep…”

 

“I see… Well, when we get back to NIMR, there’s someone I want you to talk to… an old friend… he may be able to help you  a little.”

 

Lee immediately stiffened, becoming defensive,  “Yeah, right, Jamie…I’m gonna  talk to somebody.  I’ll tell them, I can’t sleep because I was the victim of a vampire and I see things in my dreams.” Lee’s amber-hazel bored into the doctor’s, “ Come on…think about it, will you?  Just how long do you think they would let me captain this boat, with that kind of history?”

 

Jamison smiled knowingly.  “This boat, and this crew…  Lee, we’ve all seen enough, and heard enough, that no one will question you because of that.  Suffice it to say, the person I’m talking about won’t think you’ve gone over the edge…he’s been in the business way long enough to see and hear things that don’t make him think less of anyone.  He’s used to military and government types.”

 

Lee hesitated, part of him wanting to talk, to rid himself of the nightmares that he didn’t understand, and the horrific scenes he didn’t remember. “Yeah, well…we’ll see, okay… if the nightmares go away, then there’ll be no need… and you know...”

 

Jamison nodded…“Yes, Captain Crane…I do know…you don’t like doctors and hospitals….”

 

A hand on Jamison’s shoulder told him that Nelson had arrived.  Jamison looked up into blue eyes full of concern and slightly tinged with a bit of uneasiness. The face of his commander and friend was weary, from the workload he was carrying, and the grief that he held in his heart.  He knew that the telling of this tale to Lee Crane would not be easy on Nelson and there was no way that he could help.  The two men had to work this out between them…

 

“Admiral, why don’t you take this chair… and I’ll leave the two of you alone.  Frank will pull the door so that you can have some privacy, and well, if you need me, you can call.”

 

Nelson nodded in grateful acknowledgement as he sat, “Thanks, Jamie…We’ll … be awhile…”

 

Jamison left, and shortly, Frank quietly closed the folding door, giving the two men as much privacy as possible in the Sick Bay.

 

For a few moments, neither said a word, thinking of what each remembered, Finally, the Admiral asked, “How are you feeling, Lee?”

 

Lee gingerly replied, “I know that I’ve been better, and I know I’ve been worse… sleeping is tough… I guess all the rest seems to be going the way that Jamie wants it to.  How are you?  I know that you didn’t have it too easy there… trying to look after me… I’m sorry that I was such trouble.  You should’ve left me there… blown up that damn place.  Enchanted Island?  More like the gates to Hell if you ask me.”

 

Quietly, Nelson nodded and then ventured, “Yes, Gates of Hell seems appropriate. How much do you remember…about what happened, Lee?”

 

“I don’t know…”  He cleared his throat, and unconsciously touched the bandage on his neck.  He shifted biting back a small cry of pain, as movement brought discomfort to a very tender area.  “I remember… her…  I was caught in the sound…  She sliced my sweater away… it was cold…her nails cut, I felt it… her eyes, they were…dead yet I couldn’t turn away from her… they showed me things I’d never seen before…”  He swallowed hard…  “She, ah, kissed me, and…” his voice lowered, “…used her tongue…licked my face… as if she was tasting my skin…seeing if it was compatible….I remember…hearing a voice…and putting my arms around her… and bending my head… so she could bite me! …I couldn’t stop myself.”  His voice cracked, miserable with his failure to resist her.  “I allowed it to happen…Admiral, I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like… she drove her fangs deep in my neck.  I felt them.  Oh, God!  I felt them…there was some pain, but it went away quickly…  I could feel the blood being pulled to the place where she bit.  And I know that things started to get fuzzy, I was losing all touch with anything, and then I woke up in the cottage…”

 

Nelson nodded, laying a hand on Crane’s shoulder, and letting him go on, putting off his own telling of the nightmarish experience.…  “I remember bits and pieces of the cottage…not a lot, I remember a fire, and some kind of warm food… I think we talked a bit… I know that I was pretty much out of it… … and then the warmth was gone, and we were running away… I was cold again…I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life.”

 

Harry sighed.  “The sprite had protected us for a while.  Turlough destroyed her when he found that out…”

 

Lee nodded; his face then became flushed and he hesitated to share the rest of his remembrances.  “I remember seeing her once more… she was naked and coming to me… and that’s all that’s really clear… the rest is…like a puzzle without a plan…  Lots of pieces, strange and bizarre pieces, but nothing that fits…”