The Power Master

By Hazel Richardson

Tarker is a formidable power master. His constant companion is a krawk called Kok, a cranky black bird with a dubious vocabulary. They are called upon to assist peasants and rulers in times of danger and distress. They find themselves battling demonic creatures and other power users (magos and Zongs), who hire out to anyone willing to pay their price. Tarker, his sons, and Offa, a desert-living hermit, aid Al Dron to suppress an invasion by the tects into the Dorongo domain. Al Drons son is kidnapped as part of a conspiracy to overthrow Dorongos ruling family. Trained krawks help to save the boy before Tarker and Kok again join forces with Lord Dron and his knights to face an invading army raised by greedy men who want to enslave the population and bend them to their will. Power mistresses who are great healers and carers of sick animals and the environment are called upon to purify the domain of Findelling, when all the land and water were deliberately poisoned and the population faced starvation. Meanwhile, all the power masters find themselves battling against their deadliest foe yet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524634117

Hazel Richardson

The author lives in South Yorkshire. The second of four children, she learned early that selfishness would not be tolerated. It is a good principle to live by. She has strong political opinions but thinks that everyone has a right to their own beliefs. As a child, she loved to read and lose herself in other writers’ worlds. Soon she was writing her own short stories and some poetry. This was not encouraged by a mother who believed that a daughter should principally learn to clean, cook, and sew. She still enjoys poetry and loves historical novels. There have always been animals in her life. Most were dogs, but there have also been a couple of cats, lots of birds, and tropical fish. Her daughter brought home animals she found but was not pleased when made to let them go back to nature. She worked as a stock controller for some years and then as a buyer and finally as an administrator. She enjoyed working and interacting with her colleagues. She was coerced by her daughter to help while she was training to be a driving instructor, an experience she does not recommend to anybody.

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© 2016 Hazel Richardson. All rights reserved.

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Published by AuthorHouse  05/24/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-3410-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-3411-7 (e)

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Contents

Glossary

The Power Master

The Wight

The Old Un

To Slay A Demon

The Old Un Goes Scouting

Tarker And The Zong

Preparations For A Seige

Qixel’s Last Stand

Tarker Keeps His Promises

The Dollen Forest

Tarker Plans To Thwart An Invasion

A Lot Of Waiting Around

A Desperate Battle For Drongoro

The Return To The Hoss Station

Revisiting The Northern Settlement

The Krawk Keepers

The Army Krawk Messenger Service Begins

A Power Master At Work

The Experiment

Renewing Family Ties

The Brume

The Brume Hunt

A Visit To The Hallard Family

Lorge And Kip

A Rebellion Is Plotted

Finnion Confronts Sweyne

Lieutenant Darrain’s Accident

The Kidnapping

The Search For Lorge

The Raid On The Barracks

To The Rescue

The Return

Searching For The Truth

The Search Of The Darrain Estate

Journey To The Desert

Confrontation With The Mercenaries

Tarker Visit’s The Hallard Family

Findelling

Barromis

Completion

Kok

GLOSSARY

THE POWER MASTER

A nix watched the wiht settlement from the shadows at the edge of the forest. It was nervous and hungry. Having journeyed from the great lough for sixty days it was longing to return to its natural environment to resume its natural form. There was a lur to the north of the settlement which the nix was desperate to reach. Its body was covered by a kaffa, the only clothing ever worn by a nix in its human form. The webbed feet were bare and covered in heavy scales.

There was much wiht activity on and around the lur. A number of narrow boats were on the water. At the prow a wiht paddled, steering the boat or holding it in position while another wiht sat with his back to his companion, fishing with rod and net over the rounded end of the boat. It was clear to the watching nix that the lur was healthy water, because the fish were large and plentiful. Desperately, the nix wanted the wihts to return to their settlement so that he could make his way to the lur, remove the irksome kaffa and sink into the cool, clear water, which he was sure would be deep enough to hide him from view once he could get there. He could not maintain this full human form for much longer. Already he could feel the need of his body to return to its natural form.

Soon the first of the two suns began to sink, the wihts made their way ashore, pulling their boats up onto a shingle beach. They carried heavy nets of fish between them. Laughing and talking they made their way to the large settlement as the second sun began to set.

The nix sank into the trees, skirting close to the forest edge, making its way towards the deserted lur. The last rays of the suns set the water glinting a fiery red. Small nocturnal animals began to leave the safety of the trees, making their way cautiously to the waters edge. Those which lived in the reeds surrounding the lur emerged, swimming around, searching for food amongst the reeds and in the muddy bottom.

The nix moved from tree to tree, clutching trunks with its scaly, webbed hands. As it passed, other creatures scuttled fearfully from its path. Its only interest was to reach the lur to transform its body to its natural form. As it reached the water it pulled the kaffa over its head and shoulders, its body was covered with fine scales, which gleamed faintly before the last rays of the suns vanished. There were gills in place of ears; scales covered its head, only the skin on its face was smooth; it had a green tinge. The lips were wide and thick; the eyes were large, black and lidless. It hid the kaffa deep in the reed bed, where the natural inhabitants of the area fled with their families. Wading strongly towards the middle of the lur, the nix showed its pointed teeth in a grin of satisfaction. Once the water reached the waistline, it flattened out on the surface; with powerful strokes of its arms, moved into deep water. Suddenly, it flipped and dived. For an instance in the light of the rising moon, a huge fishlike tail flicked above the surface and was gone, leaving large rings of water spreading out on the surface of the lur.

The business of the wihts was not over when they returned to the settlement. Old men and women were waiting to take the fish to the smoking cabins. First the housewives chose what they needed for supper before leaving the elders to gut, clean and set the fish on racks above slowly smouldering bark, stripped from special trees. The fishermen helped in this process before they all went home for supper in their own large, well built wooden cabins.

Lascor made his way to his own cabin, which was almost indistinguishable from the rest, except for the animal horns fixed above the door. He was the liege of the settlement, answerable to the Lord of the province. All liege cabins were distinguished by the horns of some animal over the door. Strangers to the settlement were able to find the liege by this simple means.

Opening the door, he stood on the doorstep breathing in the delicious smell of cooking. He could see that his wife was busy in front of the big stone oven. Over an open fire, pots were hung, steam was rising into the large single room, which was typical of all wiht dwellings. Rough steps at one side of the room led up to the low ceilinged loft, which was divided off into sleeping areas.

Cortie turned from the oven with a large dish in her hands. She hurried to put it on the big rough table in the centre of the room. She could feel the heat of the dish making its way through the thick cloth she was holding it with. Cortie placed it gratefully onto a wooden block, much scorched from receiving hot dishes and pots over the years. Looking up, she smiled at her husband in welcome.

You had good fishing today, Willis told me all about it.

Willis was the oldest son who had steered the boat while his father had fished. He had returned to the cabin sometime earlier than his father.

Tis true, the fish fairly jumped onto the hooks. It was as if they were desperate to be caught and eaten. He grinned at his wife who was plump, but still pretty.

She chuckled in appreciation at this large craggy man, who she still considered handsome. A good husband, a good father to their five children, she had made a good choice, she was content with her lot.

Supper is ready, they are all in the washhouse cleaning up; you can go do the same, she said bossily.

He laughed as he passed by her, slapping her on the rump. A door in the corner of the wall which held the cooking range, opened out to a long, low building at the back of the cabin. Built of wood in the same style as the main cabin, it housed a large room where all tools and net making materials were kept, along with anything else they could find nowhere for. Another large room for washing clothes, dishes or bodies. The smaller room at the end was the privy, which had two large wooden buckets for family use.

Lascor wrangled with his three sons and two daughters before herding them all back inside the cabin. Cortie had placed seven wooden platters on the table, with a good portion of baked fish and boiled vegetables, plus, her own special herb sauce. They pulled up home crafted chairs. With a knife and scullet each, they did justice to the meal.

After the meal they all sat around the table, talking over their day, teasing and laughing together, despite the concern hanging over the settlement. The family enjoyed their evening together, having no idea of the horror which had entered the lur.

THE WIGHT

D eep in the forest, which wrapped itself around three sides of the stockade surrounding the settlement, the wight strode along with a large horned animal across his shoulders. The rest of the hunting party followed behind, carrying a variety of animals either across their shoulders, or slung on poles carried between two men. Some older boys were with the group, almost grown men, they were learning the skills of the hunters. It had been a successful hunt, the forest teemed with game. They walked along in cheerful companionship.

The leader of the hunt was Dranning, who was as brown as the bark of a tree and just as wrinkled. His hair was grey; cut off short all over his head. His legs were bowed, so he appeared shorter than he otherwise would, yet he was a powerful man and a skilled hunter, much respected in the settlement. He had been pleased when the wight asked to join the hunting party.

The settlement was fortunate to have a wight living amongst them. Although settlements were fortified, all the men had some fighting skills. A wight gave them a tremendous advantage. He trained the younger men and older boys in the use of weapons. Their own settlement had never been attacked but, recently marauding bands of thieves had come together under one leader, and were terrorising the province. Lord Dron himself was leading an army of heavily armed warriors, chasing the large band around the province. A messenger from the Lord had warned the settlement sometime before. So they were gathering in enough food in case they came under siege.

Having been away from the settlement for five days, the wight was eager to return. He had joined the hunt to teach the men some positive use of weapons. Practising in mock fights was all very well but, they needed to see and smell blood if they were to become hardened fighters. It had been a risk to leave the settlement at this time. Happily, they were well on their way back, and would be there by middle day tomorrow.

They camped for the night in a clearing, making sure there were guards. Some of the nocturnal creatures of the forest were large and dangerous. The inexperienced boys slept fitfully, disturbed by the night calls of so many different creatures. The more experienced men slept soundly. They rose before the first sun had broken through the tree branches, and were well on their way before the second sun rose. They came out of the forest on the northern shore of the lur.

At a distance they could see the water sparkling. There were no boats on the water. Three groups of men were standing, or squatting in different areas around the northern shore. It was not possible to distinguish between the men. The scene disturbed Dranning, the fishermen usually worked from or around the southern shore, which was closest to the settlement.

The hunting party headed for the shore instead of skirting round it, as they had intended. Soon the tall, broad figure of the liege could be distinguished in the centre group. He had pushed his cap to the back of his head, scratching his scalp. Several narrow boats could be seen pulled up in a row on the shore. The men were clearly puzzled.

What goes Lascor? asked Dranning, approaching the group.

Heya Dranning, greeted Lascor. You have had good hunting I see, he grinned down at the bowlegged hunter.

Aya, we done well. What goes? Dranning repeated his question.

I can’t really say. When we took to the water as usual this morning, there were dead fish floating on the surface, big uns too. They seem to have been bit in half. See here these have floated to the shoreline, he pointed to several large fish which had obviously been bitten in half. It was the tail half which was left in every case.

The wight carefully lowered the large animal he had been carrying across his shoulders, stepping forward he crouched down, picking up the dead half fish he carefully examined them all.

Over yer, Lascor, shouted a man from one of the other groups, he signed for the liege to hurry.

Lascor went to see what was the matter. Dranning and the wight followed close behind. What they saw shocked them. There were the mangled remains of a group of squealers.

What you make of that Lascor? asked the man who had called them over. The wight crouched down again to look closer.

I don’t know what ter make of it Brak. What kind o’ critter would eat just half a kill an’ mangle the rest?

I never seen anything like this, said Dranning, as puzzled as all the fishermen.

I have, growled the wight in his deep voice. I seen this afore in the Mangala province maybe seven, eight years gone. I was fighting for Lord Mang when the tects invaded his province. There be a lot of water in Mangala. Wide deep rivers, thousands of streams, lots of lurs and three loughs. Nobody in Mangala went any where near the loughs ‘cause the nix live in them, this is nix work. He stared down at the mangled squealers.

You have ter be joshing us, protested Brak. There never been a nix in the lur afore wight.

Well there be now, growled the wight. You better send a krawk to get the old un, and keep everybody away from the lur.

We need to fish wight, protested another fisherman. How can we stay away from the lur?

Nix take man flesh too if they can get it. They will tip up yer boats and drag yer under. The children are in particular danger ‘cause nix like young flesh best.

This will cause panic in the settlement, especially among the mothers, lamented Brak

Better a bit o’ panic than a child taken by the nix. It be a terrible way to die. Send for the old un right away, or there’ll be no fish left in the lur. The wight went back to the carcass he had placed on the ground, lifting it with ease. Right away Lascor, yer can’t afford to dally, an don’t risk going back across to the south shore in yer boats.

The fishermen were inclined to argue the last point but, Lascor knew the wight was right. It would cause inconvenience in the settlement until the nix was destroyed. He would not risk lives. He ordered the men to walk back with the hunting party.

The hunters were greeted with shouts of delight. Butchers took the carcasses, and set about skinning and gutting them on outdoor benches. For a while no-one questioned why the fishermen were back early, so Lascor, Dranning and the wight whistled up a krawk, which flew down from the top of the witan house.

Krawks were highly intelligent. If taken early from their nest they could be taught to speak in the wiht tongue, and could fly long distances at high speed. They also had the same life span as the wiht, and could be cranky natured at times.

The krawk keeper was a woman, who was also a curer. She came across to see why the liege needed the services of one of her charges. When he told her, her eyes opened wide in horror. She lost no time giving the krawk his orders, sending him on his way to the mountains, where the old un lived.

I hope he is in his cave, she said anxiously, or it may be days before he turns up and sees the krawk waiting for him.

I hope so too Carra. I need to call a witan meeting.

Lascor strode to a large gong standing before the witan house, striking it heavily with a padded pole. The long, low boom reverberated through the settlement. Soon men and women were hurrying to the witan house in answer to the summons. As each wita entered the witan house, they ask Lascor what was amiss, he merely waved them inside. When the witan were all assembled, Lascor entered with Dranning and the wight at his heels. There was a respectful silence inside the building. Everyone was waiting to hear why the liege had called an emergency meeting.

Friends, we have to close the lur to everyone in the settlement, Lascor began, raising his hands to ward off startled cries and a flurry of questions. Our friend the wight believes there is a nix in the lur.

There were more cries, this time of fear or disbelief. Lascor had some trouble gaining control for a while. When he did, he explained exactly what they had discovered when they had gone out to fish in the morning. Some wita still refused to believe it could be true, until Lascor asked the wight to step forward and tell them all he knew. They were stunned into silence for a while. One elderly man asked what could be done about it.

I have sent a krawk to the mountains, to ask the old un to come and help us, said Lascor.

Can’t the wight rid us of this monster? asked a tall woman.

Not while it’s in the lur, said the wight stepping forward again. If it takes human form and walks the land, it’ll become vulnerable. In their human form they lose some of their powers but, in its natural form in the lur, it has full powers. Only the old uns can match a nix in its natural form. The wight folded his arms, looking at the dismayed witan.

How long will it take the old un to reach us?

If he’s in his cave when the krawk arrives, he’ll be here in a day or so, if he’s not, Lascor shrugged his shoulders.

Just how much damage can a nix do in a lur in a short time?

A lot, especially if it eats the breeding females. Understand, it’ll destroy lots of wild life living in or round the lur. It’ll lay in wait for forest creatures which come to drink at night. Worst of all it’ll eat man flesh if it can get it, especially young children. We must keep everybody away from the lur until the old un arrives. We need to be telling the rest of the settlement right now. The wight pushed out his lips, he had had his say.

We’ll send out the criers, by evening everybody will be warned of the danger. Meanwhile, we’ll place danger signs on the paths and trails leading to the lur. There should be enough in the store cabin, said Lascor.

THE OLD UN

T he krawk flew directly north over the forest, using the thermals to rise higher and fly faster. He scarcely flapped his large rounded wings, and could soon see the distant mountains from his great height. Before evening he was flying over the foothills. Before the last sun set, he was dropping down towards a small opening in the side of a high mountain.

Alighting on top of a projection just outside the opening, the bird gave the cry it was named for, ‘krawk, krawk, krawk’. Cocking its head to one side it waited for an answer. When none came, it settled down for the night on the projection. Being colder in the mountains, it fluffed out its feathers for warmth.

The first rays of the first sun to rise awoke the krawk. Shaking its feathers it looked around. There were large snails clinging to the rock surface. Around the projection were lots of broken shells. The krawk grabbed a large snail in its powerful, red bill, cracking it with ease. It swallowed the snail, spitting out the shell before grabbing another. By this method it acquired a hearty breakfast. There was still no sign of life from the cave. The krawk settled in the sun to wait patiently.

It was about an hour later, when the krawk was having a short nap, that it was awoken by the angry cry of another krawk. It woke up, taking a defensive stance. Krawks were territorial and inclined to fight with strangers. A most ancient krawk was standing aggressively on the end of the projection with its beak open, showing its yellow throat in the usual intimidating manner of an aggressive krawk. White feathers around the neck were standing out threateningly. The messenger krawk fluffed out its own neck feathers, the two birds faced up to each other.

Stop that Kok, it is no way to greet a visitor, said a mild voice, which belonged to a very old man with twinkling grey eyes and a long grey beard, wearing a bright red, soft hat on top of his long grey hair.

Kok totally ignored him, continuing to intimidate the visiting krawk.

Anyway, you are far too old for that kind of rough stuff. He is young, strong, and would knock the feathers off you.

Kok turned his head, glaring fiercely at the old un, who was sitting cross legged on a very large colourful cushion with gold braid round the edge, and a golden tassel at each corner. He was dressed in a long blue robe, with lots of strange symbols embroidered on it, he wore yellow boots. On his back was a small brown bag attached to his shoulders with two straps.

Shall we invite our guest inside? asked the old un smiling.

No, replied Kok rudely.

Nevertheless, I think we must, please fly in after us, said the old un kindly.

The messenger hesitated, looking at Kok who was still giving him the evil eye. The old un leaned forward on his cushion, giving Kok’s tail feathers a sharp pull. Krawking angrily he shot off into the dark interior of the cave, followed by the old un and, after a short hesitation, by the messenger.

As the old un floated into the cave it lighted up. A short tunnel opened up into a large chamber, which was richly furnished in bright colours. Kok was sitting with ruffled feathers, on a large candelabrum, glaring back at their visitor who landed on the back of a comfortably upholstered chair. The cushion floated down to the floor, the old un stepped off. He was surprisingly tall when standing. He stepped out of a small rucksack which floated to the floor.

Who sent you my friend?

Lascor, replied the messenger in a harsh croak.

Lascor, oh I have not seen his good face in, let me see, well an age, yes an age. Does he have a problem?

Nix in lur, very bad, come quick. The krawk delivered his message and waited.

A nix you say. Well yes, that is very bad. I will go of course but, what to take with me.

Looking down at the small rucksack on the floor and clicking his fingers, he pointed to a large table. The contents of the small bag floated up on to the table until it held an enormous pile of amazing things. The messenger looked on interestedly. Kok managed to appear bored.

Hmm, better leave the dirty washing behind, another click of his fingers; items of clothing separated themselves from the pile, disappearing into a large basket. Will not need herbs, the curers will supply those, another click, jars and boxes of herbs left the pile, floating out of the large chamber through an opening at the back, covered by a multicoloured curtain which obligingly moved aside. They disappeared into another chamber.

Now, let me see, yes, I will need clean clothes, pointing at cupboards and drawers, they opened up, garments floating out, folding themselves before landing on top of the pile. Lots of brightly coloured socks rolled into balls followed. The messenger gazed in fascination. Kok muttered under his breath. I think that will be all, clicking his fingers again the old un pointed to the small rucksack on the floor. All the items on the table floated down into the bag. Another click and the bag closed, rising up to the old un’s back. He slipped his arms through the straps, smiling at the krawk.

Time to leave I think, no, no. I need my staff, now where did I put it? Looking around, his eyes fell on a long gnarled stick leaning against a cupboard. Ah, there you are, come over here. The staff hopped across the chamber into the old un’s outstretched hand. Looking at it for a moment he shook it, reducing its size until he could slip it into a pocket inside his robe. Now we can go, would you care to lead the way? the old un invited the messenger.

The messenger flew out of the chamber down the short tunnel, followed by the old un on his cushion. Darkness followed him to the cave entrance. Kok krawking angrily, shot from his perch, following behind his master. As they hovered in front of the cave entrance, Kok landed on one corner of the cushion, folding his wings. He glared again at the old un, who smiled gently.

Return to Lascor, tell him I will be with him by noon tomorrow, he instructed the messenger, who immediately sped away south towards the settlement.

Well Kok, if you are comfortable we will call in on Sylvana before we leave, or I will never hear the last of it.

The old un followed after the messenger in the same general direction, until they were over the forest where he turned east, following the flow of a winding river. Flying on until noon, he came to a wide clearing at the river’s edge, where he landed gently.

Sylvana was sitting by the river talking to a number of nixie. They were lying on large stones with their scaled tails sparkling in the sunlight. Long golden hair fell down their backs. They had large, oval, green eyes. They laughed in delight at the sight of their visitors, their lovely voices tinkling over the water. Kok hopped from the cushion onto a large rock, to sit beside one of the river maidens. She stretched out a slim elegant arm, tickling him behind his head, he closed his eyes blissfully.

Well Tarker, so you have finally come to visit me, laughed Sylvana, her bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief at her old love. How long can you stay?

One night only I am afraid, my dear.

No, surely you can spare us more time than that. It has been an age since you visited. Sylvana was disappointed, the nixie sighed in sympathy.

I will call on my way back to spend some time with you all, I promise. Lascor has sent for me urgently. There is a nix in the lur.

Sylvana sprang to her feet, silver hair floating around her head, the nixie wailed in unison. She was dressed in a green robe, embroidered with birds and all manner of flowers and insects. On her feet were green slippers. She was of middle height and looked up into Tarker’s face.

A nix, she said in horror. Do you want me to go with you? Again the nixie wailed, they hated Sylvana to leave her home.

No my dear, I can cope with one miserable nix. If not, I will seal myself in my cave forever, he smiled brightly at her.

You must be very careful, Tarker, they are dreadful creatures.

I am aware of that, Sylvana. It is not the first nix I have been called upon to vanquish. Could you find some food for your partner, I am famished?

Of course I can. Saying farewell to the river maidens, Sylvana took Tarker across the clearing to her cottage.

Exactly what material the cottage had been built from was uncertain. All the walls and the roof were covered in living vines with brilliantly coloured flowers growing on them. In and out of the vines flew small coloured birds and insects. Bees droned amongst the flowers. As they approached the cottage the little birds flocked around Sylvana, landing on her arms, head and shoulders. In this manner they went inside the cottage to find food for a hungry power master. Kok stayed with the nixie, for he delighted in their attention.

The interior of the cottage was furnished simply. In the large living room was a long table with a number of wooden chairs around it. Two large wooden rocking chairs with cushions were set either side of a large fire place which was empty at this time of the season. There was a sideboard with cupboards and drawers in the bottom and shelving above to display beautiful plates and dishes, decorated with flowers. The wooden floors were covered in large coloured rugs.

Sit down Tarker, I will bring you some food, in fact I will join you, for I have had no lunch as yet. She disappeared through a door into the kitchen.

Tarker took a seat at the table, noting that all the small birds were now perched on the backs of the chairs. They stared at him with their bright eyes, he smiled, greeting them with gentle whistling notes, which they appeared to appreciate.

In minutes Sylvana was back, followed by a large tray heavily laden. It floated onto the table where dishes and plates positioned themselves on the surface. Tarker looked on the proceedings with satisfaction.

Help yourself, invited Sylvana. Tell me what you have been up to lately.

Tarker thickly spread some bread with butter, topping it with golden honey, which he ate with relish. While there was a dish of eggs with salad there was no meat or flesh of any kind. Power mistresses, known to the wihts as mams, never ate the flesh of living creatures. Power masters did but, never in the company of power mistresses.

I have been visiting Riana and her new baby. Have you visited them yet? I cannot quite work out whether the child is our fifth great grand daughter or sixth.

Fifth, said Sylvana promptly. Our daughter Lilliana is the mother of Freya, who is the mother of Marissa, who is the mother of Alayna, who is the mother of Sarina, who is the mother Riana, who is the mother of our new little Harmony. All strictly in the female line of course. I visited them soon after the birth, she was so beautiful.

I must have missed you, come to think of it, Riana did mention you had visited. The baby can already attract small things to herself which take her eye, and only four months old. Quite remarkable really.

Not for the babies of power people.

Really, is that so? I never had too much to do with babies.

Yes I know, you always managed to disappear for an age after each of our three babies were born.

Did I really? I am sure there was a good reason for it.

Oh yes, you were always chasing after some wihts or other race, who had managed to get themselves into trouble.

Do you see much of the children these days? I hear Granding is in Mangala helping Lord Mang to fight off the tects again.

Yes, and Braydon is in Brentoga. The mountain trogs have been raiding the wiht settlements there.

It appears there are problems everywhere, and our sons are in the thick of it all. Thank goodness for power mistresses who take care of the sick, the suffering, nurturing and growing. Where would we all be without you?

In very uncomfortable places with little food and nothing pleasant in your lives. How long has the nix been in the lur?

I am unsure of the circumstances. Lascor sent a krawk to ask for my help. They only give the bare facts you know, not great conversationalists, krawks. Even Kok, who after all these years, well over his allotted time I might add, is a poor conversationalist. I have to do the talking, he answers if he feels inclined. He can be very cranky you know.

He is never cranky with the nixie, laughed Sylvana.

That is because they spoilt him dreadfully.

After lunch was over Sylvana tapped the table, the dishes and pots rearranged themselves on the large tray, which floated off to the kitchen. They both moved to the rocking chairs to sit talking for the rest of the afternoon.

Power people did not marry in the conventional