by Chrys Cymri
The gryphon coughed. He opened his eyes and stared up at us. ‘Bad place.’
He sounded so much like James that I had to smile. ‘Yes, it is. Land crossing places are very different to air ones. How are you?’
‘Tired, and hungry.’ The long crest rose and fell. ‘Uncle Clyde? Why are you here?’
‘He came with me to find you.’ Jago allowed me to lift each wing in turn, and then study his legs and tail. ‘You look okay. What happened?’
‘Something took me away from James’ shoulder.’ Jago turned his head and preened several wing feathers back into place. ‘It was large, and cold. Metal?’
‘An axe,’ I said grimly. ‘It wasn’t real, but it’s hard to remember that when you’re in a thin place.’
Jago’s purple eyes widened. ‘We have to go back through there, don’t we?’
‘Yes.’ I unzipped my coat. ‘But you can ride inside, if you want.’
His crest flattened. ‘Gryphons are always brave.’
‘Gryphons are very definitely brave,’ I agreed. ‘But humans don’t always rise to their standard. Please do this, for me. I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t think I’m brave enough to look for you a second time.’
Jago studied me for a moment. ‘You’re trying to be clever.’ He raised his eyes to the snail on my shoulder. ‘Does she often try to be clever?’
‘Often,’ Clyde agreed.
‘Don’t do that again,’ Jago ordered me. ‘I don’t like that sort of clever.’
He might be young, but Jago was already showing signs of his father’s intelligence. I could only hope that he wouldn’t turn out to be equally as annoying. ‘Then I’ll just order you. Jago, climb into my coat. Now.’
‘Hmph.’ But the gryphon obeyed, turning around inside so that he could see out of the top.
I looked around the grass. The stones were at my feet. I knew we’d travelled inside the thin place, but I’d still ended up at the crossing spot. Surely someone, somewhere, must have done some research on how these places worked. ‘Okay, guys, here we go again. Clyde, hold on tight.’ And I stepped back over the stones.
This time, I kept my head down and ignored the chaos swirling around me. A moment later, my boots touched down on the box. I muttered a quick prayer of thanks to the patron saints of Ashtrew Church as I forced my stiff legs to descend from the minstrels’ gallery.
‘Jago?’ James asked. Then he saw the small head resting by my throat. ‘Don’t do that to me again!’
‘Penny came for me,’ Jago said happily as he pulled himself away from my chest. ‘And Uncle Clyde.’
‘I should’ve gone too,’ James said, holding out his hands.
The gryphon hopped over, stared my brother in the eyes, and said simply, ‘Yes.’
Muscles tensed around my brother’s jaw. Rosie covered her mouth, her eyes wide. The atmosphere in the church suddenly felt as cold as in the thin place. I tried frantically to think of something to say.
Clyde leaned back and opened his jaws. ‘“Perverse and foolish oft I strayed, but yet in love he sought me. And on his shoulder gently laid, and home rejoicing brought me.”’
‘Psalm 23,’ I said quietly. ‘Our Lord sought out the lost, and that’s what he calls his priests to do. It’s not for everyone.’
Some colour returned to my brother’s cheeks. He placed Jago on his shoulder, and they started a conversation in sign language as he walked to the door.
Rosie came to my side, my backpack in her hands. ‘Good catch, Clyde. But you’re not a priest.’
‘Find lost,’ the snail said. ‘All Christians.’
But as we headed outside, I wondered once again whether the snail had a vocation beyond just being a good Christian.
Rosie’s car was waiting outside the churchyard. James pulled out his iPhone and waved at me. ‘I’ll call a taxi. I have a train to catch to London.’
‘When will you be back?’
‘Late Tuesday evening, I should think.’ He patted his backpack. ‘I’ve got everything with me that I need. And in London, I can also find anything I might want.’
‘I'm going with you,’ Jago declared, his claws digging deep into James’ coat.
My brother cleared his throat. ‘Really? Well, I mean, you’d just be bored. Meetings, you know. High level business stuff.’
Jago’s fox tail curled around James’ neck. ‘I’ve never been to London.’
‘Go on,’ I urged my brother. ‘You can show him the sights.’
James flicked his gaze between me and the gryphon. A taxi pulled up as he hesitated, and the driver rolled down the window. ‘James White? To Long Buckby train station?’
‘That’s the one.’ James dropped his voice. ‘Okay, the two of us. See you soon.’ He slipped the pack from his back, and slid into the taxi’s back seat.
Rosie was laughing as she led the way to her car. ‘Of course James didn’t want Jago with him. The gryphon will only cramp his style.’
I grinned. ‘Well, one can only hope.’
Chapter Eight
An hour later I was in my study, staring at my shopping list. I wondered what any normal human being would make of it. One box of communion wafers. Six bottles of fortified wine. Several pints of goat’s blood for the curate?
The door bell rang. I abandoned my cup of tea and answered the door. A removal van was parked on the drive. Although two human men were opening up the truck, a dwarf stood under the storm porch.
‘I’m happy to do my own unpacking,’ I said quickly.
‘Nonsense,’ the dwarf said gruffly. ‘Diocese booked full service. Pack, deliver, unpack.’
‘And my brother isn’t here.’
‘We can use your answers from last time, no worries.’ He pulled out a notebook. ‘We have your favourite colours, foods, names of first loves, greatest disappointment, and greatest achievements listed. I’m assuming that none of those have changed. And that they were all truthful in the first place.’
I hesitated. James had lied at least once, and it’d taken us five days to find where the dwarves had placed his underwear. But it wasn’t for me to correct his answers. ‘Mine were.’
‘And we have unloading and unpacking to do for--’ he looked down at his notes. ‘For a Skylar Grey.’
‘She hasn’t arrived yet.’
He nodded. ‘We’ll start with yours and that of your brother. Oh, one extra question. Do you speak any Klingon?’
I felt my face flush. ‘I took a few on-line classes, but I can’t remember any of it.’
The dwarf made a note in his book, then shouted at his men, ‘Her socks go into the top right-hand drawer of the bedside cabinet!’ Then he came back to me. ‘Good to have that sorted out. They were listed as going into the shed.’
‘Good indeed. As for--’
Loud music suddenly assaulted my eardrums. A car roared down the slight hill which led to my cul-de-sac. The bright pink VW Beetle’s top was down, allowing some modern pop star to blare out ‘And she is so swag!’ throughout the neighbourhood. Bright flowers had been painted across the bonnet and sides, and as the car swerved into my drive I saw that dark lines had been painted above the headlights, making them look like eyes.
‘Hullo!’ Skylar waved both hands at me, and I could only hope that she would apply the parking brake in good time. ‘Like your place already!’
The car engine rumbled to a stop, and so, mercifully, did the music. One of the removal men hurried over to open the driver’s door, and Skylar threw him a wide smile as she slid from her seat. ‘I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,’ she sang out as she skipped across the tarmac. ‘What’ve I missed, anything? I was going to be here much earlier, but I stopped for a coffee and then I met this fantastic woman who loves The Unutterables as much as I do. And then we got talking and suddenly I’d had three coffees and I’d been there an hour so I set off to get here as quick as I could. Has my stuff been unpacked yet and what’s my room like? Not that I mind, really, I only had a small ro
om at seminary, so I don’t need much. And what’s your name?’
The last was to the dwarf, whose jaw had slowly dropped lower and lower as Skylar spoke. He cleared his throat. ‘Dafydd Jones, miss.’ Then his eyes dropped to the white piece of plastic threaded into the collar of her pink shirt. ‘Are you Father Skylar Grey?’
‘Certainly am. Though here in England, humans don’t call their female priests “Father” and not even “Mother”, which is really confusing. I guess I could go by “Reverend”, I think that’s what they do, right, Penny?’
‘Just a few questions for you, Father Skylar,’ Dafydd broke in firmly. ‘Favourite colour, favourite food, name of first love, greatest disappointment, greatest achievement.’
Skylar grinned. ‘Wow, what great questions. Well, favourite colour, that’s easy, cherry blossom pink, but more like when the blossoms have been out for awhile, not when they first come out. And then, favourite food, that’s harder. I mean, what I love best I wouldn’t want for breakfast or in my tea break, would I, so maybe it’s my favourite food based on time of day?’
‘Any time of day,’ Dafydd suggested, pen hanging limply between his fingers.
‘Well, any time of day, I guess I could always eat chips. So long as there’s plenty of ketchup and mayonnaise. A burger would also be great, I love burgers.’ She stopped to lick her lips dramatically. ‘As for first love, that’d be my father, he was just so wonderful. Taught me so much, even though he couldn't fly, seeing as he’s an elf. And greatest disappointment, that’s so hard, life has been so great for me and everything. I mean, look at me, I’m going to be curate to Father Penny! And live here in England!’
‘You might want to think of something,’ I said as she finally paused for breath. ‘It’s only to help with the unpacking.’
‘Okay, the coffee shop didn’t have any chocolate biscuits,’ Skylar told Dafydd. ‘And what was the other one? Oh, greatest achievement. I passed my ministry exams and, I’ll tell you, I didn’t think that would happen. New Testament Greek, really, how’s learning that going to help me proclaim the Gospel? But I got through it, okay I only just scraped the one point I needed, but I passed and that’s all that counts. Any more questions?’
Dafydd looked up at her for a long moment. ‘Who was the first person to break your heart?’
The silence was painful. I watched as Skylar’s face first went pale, then turned nearly as bright as her shirt. Then she smiled at me. ‘My room’s at the top of the stairs, right?’
The dwarf slipped his notebook away as she strode to the house. ‘You’ve not asked me that question,’ I said.
His dark eyes met mine. ‘Your heart hasn't been broken. Not in that way.’
I opened my mouth to protest. What about the death of my parents? Or Alan’s heart attack? The loss of Clyde’s wings? But I forced myself to give him a grin, then went inside to join Skylar.
The vampire had found her room. I paused at the entrance, impressed by what Bishop Aeron’s office had arranged. A bunk bed and desk combination filled the right side of the narrow room, providing a single bed above a work space. A long wardrobe stretched down the other wall, and a set of drawers had been squeezed into the space between doorway and left wall. The curtains were gone, replaced with blinds.
‘Brilliant,’ Skylar pronounced. ‘And I love the view.’
As this was over a weed-infested back garden and a series of detached houses, I decided that she was being polite. ‘I suggest we let the men do the unpacking. Can I get you a coffee? Tea?’
‘Is it too early for a gin and tonic?’
‘Never too early,’ I said firmly. ‘I might even join you, although mine’ll be a whisky.’
Clyde zoomed into the kitchen as I dropped ice into Skylar’s drink. She knelt down beside the kitchen table to bring her face level with his eyespots. ‘Oh, aren’t you adorable! What’s your name?’
The snail opened his jaws wide, revealing his sharp teeth. To her credit, Skylar didn’t even twitch. ‘Clyde.’
‘A snail shark,’ she marvelled as I handed over her glass. ‘People said you had one.’
I opened a bottle of beer, and poured half into a bowl for Clyde. ‘We’ve been together for nearly a year now.’
‘And is it true that he’s been baptised?’
‘Confirmed,’ Clyde said proudly, purple pulsing through his body.
‘By Bishop Aeron?’
I shook my head. ‘By my own bishop. I like your bishop, but like many people in Lloegyr, she doesn’t seem that keen on snail sharks.’
‘There’s a lot of prejudice in Lloegyr.’ The note of sadness in her voice made my eyebrows rise. Then Skylar was smiling again. ‘But I’ve heard you’re not like that.’
‘Clyde is one of my best friends.’ The snail raised his head, brown liquid dripping from his mouth as he made an enquiring noise. ‘Be fair, Clyde, there’s also Peter and Morey to consider.’
‘And your brother?’ Skylar asked. ‘James?’
I shrugged. ‘He’s family. That’s a special category all of its own. Anyway, I need to know what to feed you. Or do you go out for your own, um, supplies?’
‘I’m on solid food.’ She downed the last of her drink. ‘That’s why I needed a bed.’
‘I did wonder.’
‘Hard to shift into bat shape if you’re not on a blood diet.’ Skylar grinned. ‘Too many burgers. I love burgers. And chips.’
Well that was good to hear. I wouldn’t have to try to source any goat’s blood.
The cat flap rattled, and a moment later Morey had landed on the kitchen table. He arched his neck to look up at the vampire. ‘You must be Father Skylar Grey. Elder Trahaearneifion, although many prefer Morey for ease of pronunciation.’
‘You’re ordained now,’ I reminded the gryphon.
‘Only under sufferance. And you have a new deacon.’ Morey turned his head, studying her first with one eye, then the other. ‘Which is your favourite patristic theologian?’
‘There’s half a bottle of Spitfire left,’ I said quickly. ‘Would you like it, Morey? And Skylar, would you like another gin and tonic? Maybe you can tell us a bit about your last church.’
But she took a seat near Morey. ‘Well, you see, I don’t think that’s important. Why should we care about what those guys wrote? I mean, we’re called to take the Gospel into this day and age. We’re not living in Roman times or travelling around on donkeys. We don't have to worry about being arrested and killed for our faith in Jesus. But what we do have is people who are starving for food and starving for God. So we need to think how we’re going to feed them, and how we can let them know how much God loves them. There’s lots of good blogs about that, and some great pages on Facebook. And you should follow me on Twitter, I post stuff every day. Do you want my Twitter handle?’
Morey’s feathers were flat and his fur was standing on end. Never had I seen him looking so confused. ‘Surely you’re not suggesting that theology is unimportant?’
‘It’s only important if it helps people.’ Skylar wagged a finger near his beak which, bearing in mind his current body language, I thought was a bit risky. ‘And it usually doesn’t. We can be too heavenly minded to be of any earthly good.’
Clyde’s tentacles swivelled between them. The snail was obviously fascinated by the debate. ‘Earthly good?’
‘We need both heaven and earth,’ Morey countered. ‘Our theology informs our world view. And our world view determines how we approach God, sin, the last things--’
Skylar leaned forward. ‘How many people have you brought to faith this week?’
‘This week?’ Morey spluttered.
A knock on the kitchen door interrupted us. Dafydd poked his head into the room. ‘All done. If I might have a signature?’
I scribbled on his paper, and saw him to the door. When I returned, Morey and Clyde had left the kitchen. ‘They went out to hunt,’ Skylar told me. ‘I think Morey was saying something in Latin, but I’m not sure.’
/> ‘Time for our own dinner.’ I pulled out a bottle of red wine, removed the cork, and filled two glasses. ‘Vegetarian spaghetti. Do you want to visit your room and check the unpacking? I’ll give you a shout when the food’s ready.’‘Good idea.’ Skylar scooped up her wine and a few seconds later I heard her tread on the stairs. I busied myself with cooking.
<><><><><><>
James was at the kitchen table, Clyde by his elbow, when I stumbled down two mornings later. The welcome smell of coffee filled the room. Half a donut filled his hand, and from the way he was chewing, the other half was in his mouth. He waved at the coffee machine. I filled a mug, dashed in milk, and joined him.
‘London is great,’ Jago told me enthusiastically, emerging from James’ shirt pocket to hop onto Clyde’s shell. ‘We went past where the Queen lives and rode on a big wheel and I had a hot dog. And James let me watch TV in the hotel room.’
James swallowed. ‘Doctor Who. I knew you’d approve.’
‘Was this during your meeting?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘Well, during one of my meetings.’ He winked. ‘You know what they say. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’
‘Dull boy,’ Clyde said. The pink and green trickling down his tentacles showed what he thought of that possibility.
A burst of song made both of us jump. ‘“And still you’re mine forever, mine forever. Forever you’re mine, mine forever.”’
The voice came nearer and nearer, and the kitchen door was flung open as the owner of the pure soprano voice made her entrance. ‘“Together we’ll always stand, nothing can us part, because you’re mine forever.”’ Skylar flung her arms wide, the sleeves of her dark pink dressing gown flapping as she directed a non-existent orchestra. ‘“Forever you’re mine, mine forever.”’
‘Coffee or tea?’ I asked weakly, wondering whether she’d be this chipper every morning.
‘Oh, coffee, but I’ll make it myself, don’t you worry. And I’ve been sleeping very well, thank you, that bed’s more comfortable than you might think and I like to be up high. Everything’s been unpacked where I’d like except for my iPad, which I can’t find anywhere, but I’m certain I’ll track it down and I’ve got my iPhone in the meantime. And maybe I’ll just go on a digital detox for a bit, I keep checking my Twitter feed like it’s my life!’ Skylar drew in a breath and directed her smile at my brother, who was simply staring at her. ‘And you must be James, that’s fantastic. My name is Skylar, well Skylar Grey, but please call me Skylar and not something like Reverend Skylar unless we’re with members of the congregation and you think you need to be formal. Which you don’t, because I don’t worry about that sort of thing. My toothbrush is the green one, it’s got extra long bristles for my canines, so you can’t miss it. And I’ve made room for my stuff on the bathroom windowsill, hope you don’t mind, because I’ve left the cabinet for you. Can I have porridge for breakfast?’
