“Oh, Sky-Fire-Trail. You look so … right here…..”So at home. If I could only think that you came back—” …. “We shall go back to Spirit-Hahn’s ship,” Sky-Fire-Trail said stiffly.
Meg is having nightmares – the same one only worse each time. She tries to stop them and finds herself once more in danger in another space and time.
Meg & Sue flee school Halloween party only to find themselves in a sinister wood and fleeing now for their lives from a dark witch queen.
A few weeks ago, a friend suggested that I read my books aloud on the web. Seemed a good idea, and here we are, opening up my space–June 8th–for the first time. Starting with the 9-book Gom series, which begins with Gom on Windy Mountain, the chapters will be posted serially Mondays and Thursdays, together with great bonuses at the appropriate time: graphics, mp3 songs, song sheets, and text notes, all for easy download, then archi...
Pain rushed in, for Frankie, for Sky-Fire-Trail. For this small, evolving world. And for himself. Is this what humans felt when they said their hearts were breaking? If so, how did they bear it?…Hahn almost wished himself back the way he used to be.
Sky-Fire-Trail sat quite still, listening to the sounds in the woods, to the wind from over the lake, the three-note call of the loon over the calm water. Voice of the spirits. He relaxed, let the peace wash through him, and the warm, slow rhythm of the afternoon.
“But a man could make the journey if he had a mind to.” “Mm … Me, I’m happy where I am.” “But for how long?”… “Forever. If Hahn won’t make the calamity go away, you shall.”
“The land is good. The lake churns with fish, and up among the hills is rich hunting ground. . . . Where does it lie from my home?” Sky-Fire-Trail Apologies for missed post for Thursday 26th. My net was down for several days.
“Come on,” she said. “We’re going back to your day.” As he took firm hold, she clutched the stone tightly with her other hand and closed her eyes.
Un-Hahn had almost materialized. Only seconds left to decide. Where, oh, where? … Go! Go! GO! Un-Hahn was coming at them when the crystal flared, blocking him out.
“…So swear you’ll not harm me, or try to this stone from me.” …. “A man’s word is his bond.” “So swear.” She shook the stone at him. “That I will not.”
“No!” Hahn shouted, but too late. The air darkened, and crackled, and she was away, hanging on for her life.
“Oh,” she said at last, in a low voice. “To restore things, to put things back the way they were in Sky-Fire-Trail’s time, would mean no settlers from over the oceans, no colonies, and so no U.S.A. I guess in that case I wouldn’t be here.”
(Hahn’s) blue eyes looked troubled. “I have started to malfunction in the most disturbing way.” “Oh, Hahn I’m sorry. What is it? You losing memory or something?” Hahn shook his head. “It’s worse….”
… at once the LSRM lid began to rise on hinges. Inside? A mylar-padded bed. Frankie shifted uneasily. It looked awfully like a coffin.
She still seemed to be kneeling … yet she had a sense of travelling, of wind streaming past. The noises stopped, the wind died. Wherever she was, she and Hahn had arrived.
“ You … crossed paths with me, and with Sky-Fire-Trail; that is, we all three met together—collided—at a single point in space and time.” “That’s no big deal. I mean people are always bumping into one another. It’s certainly nothing to get so upset about.”
Frankie reached the wall, was just about to vault over, when large hands seized her shoulders from behind and held her fast.
Central Park is not natural but man-made by by order of the rich at the expense of the poor – a reason in keeping with a theme of this book. Thanks to the internet, there are many sources for its history. I offer this link for quick referral: https://www.ny.com/articles/centralpark.html
Sky-Fire-Trail needed a place, the farthest he could go, where he could stop, get his breath, and think what next to do…. Even as he began to picture the place, the stone sparked, and the marsh began to fade. “No! Sky-Fire-Trail—no!” Hahn-Spirit grabbed for him. But Sky-Fire-Trail had disappeared.
“What happened to the swamp? To my people?” A sound began deep inside him, tore up with great force into his throat.
All at once there came a terrifying crackling as of a forest fire raging about them. The calamity?…he almost broke free and ran….Sky-Fire-Trail took a deep breath. Was he not a brave? A brave feared nothing. He blew the fear from his body and held on.
(Sky-Fire-Trail) turned about to see a whole pile of stones heaped on a tray half-out of one wall…. He was just taking one up between finger and thumb, when the air beside him swirled and wavered…. A mist cloud formed, and out of it a voice cried: “Don’t touch those stones!”