by Chrys Cymri
‘Thank you,’ I stuttered.
As the Nissan Leaf turned around in my drive and headed away, I glanced at my watch. Time I headed out as well. I made a quick trip to the loo and then headed out to Beckeridge.
The disabled badge on the large van parked outside the family’s semi-detached house was my first warning. The ramp up to the front door confirmed my initial assessment. I pressed the doorbell.
The woman who answered was tall, thin, and as far as I could tell, not disabled. We exchanged a handshake and names, and I followed Natalie into the kitchen. A moment later I was introduced to Dave, her husband. He had a bit of a paunch but seemed to walk easily across the tiled floor to accept his own cup of tea. They looked to be in their early thirties, dressed casually in smart clothes. But as I looked closer, I could see lines around their eyes and mouths which I would have expected in people much older.
‘Well,’ Dave said after we’d exchanged observations about Brexit and the local rugby team, the Northampton Saints, ‘it’s time you met Edward.’
I followed them through to the next room. The tiled floor stretched into the living room, for reasons which became clear as I saw the child resting in his complicated wheelchair. Straps held his small body in place, and a tube ran into his nose from a nearby oxygen canister. Dark hair flopped over his half open eyes.
‘The hospital made some mistakes at his birth,’ Natalie explained. ‘He was oxygen deprived, so there was severe brain damage. The doctors said he wouldn’t make his first birthday. But, nine years later, he’s still with us.’
‘A real fighter,’ Dave said. He walked over and kissed the boy on the forehead. ‘I wanted to name him Thor, but Nat said no.’
‘From Marvel’s The Avengers?’ Dave’s delighted smile told me I’d been right. I bit back the comment that, to me, there was only one Avengers and their names were John Steed and Cathy Gale. Or Emma Peel. Even Tara King at a push.
Natalie waved me to take a seat on the cream-coloured sofa. ‘We held off christening him because, well, that’s what the chaplain in the hospital recommended. An “emergency baptism”, he called it.’
‘He meant well,’ Dave said. ‘I mean, he came by every day to see how we were doing.’
‘But it kind of put us off.’ Natalie pulled a face. ‘It was like admitting that he was going to die, having an “emergency baptism”. I didn’t want his christening to be an emergency.’
‘And he’s in there,’ Dave said eagerly. ‘I’m certain he knows what we’re saying to him. We live with him, we know. Despite what the doctors say. He takes it all in, does our Edward. We tell them that, but they never listen. Edward does understand.’
‘So we thought, it’s time.’ Natalie smiled over at her son. ‘Everyone in both our families have always been Christened. He’s a bit older than most, but that doesn’t matter, does it?’
I glanced from father, to mother, to son. The words of assurance which I nearly spoke dried in my throat. A thought tugged at me, so strong that I felt almost able to attribute it to God. With the awareness that I was taking a risk, I rose to my feet and walked over to Edward. ‘Actually, it does matter. You see, I can’t baptise him just because you two want it.’
Dave paled, and Natalie swallowed hard. I held the silence for several seconds, then turned to Edward. ‘You’re nine years old,’ I told him. ‘So you’re old enough to decide these things for yourself. I’d better tell you what it means to be baptized.’
I took a seat on the armchair near Edward and spent the next twenty minutes talking about baptism in the Bible, the commitment shown by God, and the cleansing from sin. ‘So,’ I concluded, ‘talk that over with your mum and dad. If they tell me it’s what you want, we’ll arrange for you to be baptized in St Wulfram’s.’
In order to talk to Edward, I had been leaning forward. As I straightened, I realised that Dave was openly crying, tears dripping down his cheeks. Natalie leaned against him, face buried in his shoulder. ‘The church doesn’t have the best wheelchair access,’ I said awkwardly. ‘But we’ll get him in. If that’s what he decides he wants.’
Natalie lifted her head. In contrast to her husband, her eyes were dry. I had the feeling that she’d cried herself out many years ago. ‘You’re right. We’ll talk it over with him.’
‘Let me know what you all decide.’ I gulped down the rest of my cup of tea, then stood. ‘Here’s my card. Let me know if you want me to visit again.’
Dave cleared his throat. ‘You’re welcome any time, Vicar.’
‘Penny.’ I accepted his handshake, and then made my way out. When I’d reached the safety of my car, I took a moment to allow for a few tears of my own. How many people, I wondered, acted as carers day in and day out, hidden away from view behind the doors of their houses? I said a quick prayer before heading home for my dinner.
<><><><><><>
‘Let me know if you use up what’s in the ciborium,’ I told Skylar the next morning as we stood in the kitchen, preparing to go our separate ways. ‘I can always consecrate more on Sunday.’ I slid my mug into the dishwasher before adding, ‘Soon you’ll be making your own. Not much longer until your priesting.’
‘Yes. About that.’ Skylar took a deep breath, and I braced myself. ‘It wasn’t my idea, I didn’t say anything to them, but you know that the colony says they’re also part of St Wulfram’s. And they’ve been okay, now that they’ve accepted me, even though I’m a Grey and none of them are, but that’s in the past now. And I’m dating James, which means their magister is happy with me too, although I’m not making any promises because, well, it’s still early days, isn’t it? A long way to go yet before any trips up the altar. But they like me, and they want to be there.’
As she stopped to refill her lungs, I stated, ‘The vampires want to come to your ordination.’
‘Yes. Will that be a problem?’
I shrugged. ‘We’ve booked a coach. If there’s room, and they’re willing to come fully dressed and stay in human form, then I don’t see why not. Check with Holly how many seats are left. They’ll have to find a way to pay for their places, though.’
‘That won’t be a problem,’ Skylar assured me. ‘I’ll let them know after the service.’
She skipped from the room, and I could only envy her energy. I’d woken up feeling more like forty-seven than thirty-seven years old. For some reason, I’d started thinking about Peter when I’d gone to bed, and sleep had been hard to come by.
A green-black body landed in my back garden. I straightened. The sun was shining, my diary was clear of Earth-bound responsibilities, and I was about to take several rides on dragon-back which would lead me to another meeting with merpeople. With any luck, I might even be able to arrange the return of a submarine. I found myself humming as I collected my coat and headed out the back door.
Sasha was talking to Raven as I strode to the dragon’s side. The blue and white TARDIS bathrobe hung only loosely around her body, but enough material clung to the essential areas to render her decent for human viewing. Clyde watched from the bench, one eyespot swivelling in my direction as I came near. ‘Go too?’
‘You can’t.’ I bent down to give his shell a rub. ‘We’re going to be at the ocean, and I don’t think salt water would be very good for a snail.’
His tentacles drooped. ‘No.’
‘We’ll be back,’ I promised, although I carefully didn’t say when. ‘And then we can talk about your meeting with the Bishop, if you’d like.’
‘Yes.’ And his colours brightened.
Morey whistled from the back bedroom window. A moment later, he was gliding down to Raven, twisting in the air to land on the well muscled back. Taryn flew out a moment later, Jago in her forefeet. She paused briefly to deposit him on the bench, then gave us all a cheery ‘Good luck!’ as she dashed away.
‘Are you off on an adventure?’ Jago demanded. ‘Take me too!’
Raven lowered his head to the small gryphon. ‘Why aren’t you flying?’
>
‘Temporarily grounded,’ Jago admitted. ‘A run-in with a flying unicorn.’
‘Sorry, son,’ Morey said, ‘but you’ll have to wait this one out.’
Jago started to protest. Then Bastien emerged from Raven’s back and fluttered down to the gryphon’s side. ‘I’ll stay with you, Jago. About time I told you about my visit to the harpies.’
Sasha mounted the dragon, assuming the spot I usually took on Raven’s neck. Hey, that’s my pew, I found myself thinking. But I bit back any comment as I climbed up to place myself behind the merwoman. Morey leapt over and made himself comfortable against my chest.
‘Midlands WaterWorld,’ Raven announced cheerfully. ‘Then to the oceans off Alba. Soon Abella will be free again.’
Clyde reared back and opened his jaws. As Raven took us upwards, the snail began to sing.
‘“Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm does bind the restless wave,
Who bids the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea.”’
Not the most comforting of hymn choices. I gritted my teeth and prayed that very little peril would accompany our rescue mission.
Chapter Twenty-One
We were halfway to the marine park when a second search dragon dropped from the sky. Tyra positioned herself a wing length away from Raven. Although she was only two thirds his size, she showed no signs of strain at keeping up with his rapid wing beats.
The empty car park showed that Midlands WaterWorld had been closed to visitors yet again. The first closure had been blamed on ‘water contamination’, and I wondered if the same excuse would be used this time.
Tarkik had been moved to another pool. This was an area not seen by the general public, and looked to be designed for close up physical examination of captive whales. A large pull-out area led to an equally large platform. Raven landed first, quickly folding his wings along his sides before Tyra dropped down next to him.
Sasha and I slid down to the white-painted concrete. She had agreed, with much reluctance, to wear a pair of shoes. The floor glistened with small puddles, and I was pleased that she’d followed my advice as she walked over to the huddle of humans. ‘Which of you,’ she demanded, ‘is in charge?’
Jen stepped forward. ‘Jennifer Lawson, lead veterinarian here at WaterWorld. I’m the one who’s made the arrangements for transporting Mundo--I mean, Tarkik--if that’s what you mean.’
‘Then you’ll do.’ Sasha pointed at the bundle near the water. ‘Explain to me how this will work.’
Jen seemed unfazed by the merwoman’s imperious tone. ‘It’s a sling, lined with water-retaining materials. We’ll spread it out on the water ledge, and Tarkik is to position himself along the length. Then we’ll put more of the water-retaining blankets over his back and sides. Once everything’s ready, the dragons will take up the straps on their claws and carry him between them.’ She looked over at me. ‘I’m sorry it’s taken a couple of days to get it ready. We just couldn’t get everything together any sooner than this.’
I nodded. ‘How long will he be okay, carried like that?’
‘Not for long,’ Paul interjected. ‘That’s why Mundo should stay here. This is far too risky. There’s all that pressure on his body, and he could dry out long before you get him to the ocean.’
Sasha’s white-rimmed eyes raked over the young man’s body. ‘You’re one of his slavers?’
‘I’m his trainer,’ Paul retorted. ‘And his friend.’
‘Really? I wonder what Tarkik would say to that.’ Sasha turned to the water and the thrum of ocean speak ached against my chest.
The orca lifted himself out of the water. His jaws opened, and I stared at his sharp teeth. The sounds which came from his breathing hole and mouth made every human slap hands over ears. One word stood out, very Welsh and very rude, with Paul’s name at the end of the multi-syllables. I glanced over at the pale-faced man. ‘Let’s just say that Tarkik doesn’t share that sentiment.’
‘Quite right,’ Morey said. ‘It’s appalling that any being is held in these conditions, never mind a citizen of Alba.’
‘He’ll survive being in the sling,’ Jen continued, ‘so long as you can keep him wet. With today’s temperatures, he’ll need more water around every half hour or so.’
‘We’re miles away from the sea,’ Paul pointed out. ‘How fast can a dragon fly?’
‘We’ll be over an ocean in twenty minutes,’ Raven said. ‘There’s a crossing--’
‘So, Sasha, we’d better split our weight between Raven and Tyra,’ I interrupted. And I quickly climbed up to my usual place on Raven’s neck.
Sasha threw me a glance, but she mounted Tyra. With the merwoman’s help, the orca was talked into placing his black and white body on the grey sling. Jen and Paul, assisted by several other people, spread heavy looking material over Tarkik. Then both dragons backed themselves on to the water shelf. Fore and hind feet gathered up the thick ropes. ‘Maybe a test flight over the pool?’ I suggested as green-blue wings were unfurled.
Tyra grumbled, but both obeyed. I held my breath as the dragons beat their wings, tips slapping against the clear water, the sling creaking as we lifted into the warm air. Raven’s muscles were hard under my legs as he strained upwards. I glanced across and saw that Tyra’s ears and horns were laid flat against her head, indicating her own discomfort. The sling swung for a moment, then steadied.
Morey took off from my shoulder. I glanced down and watched him land on the padding near Tarkik’s head. Raven’s sides expanded as he opened up his gas chamber, and I saw Tyra doing the same. Midlands WaterWorld dropped away beneath us.
Wings dipped, and we turned east. The wingbeats of both dragons settled into a steady rhythm. Although it was still early morning, the bright sun was already making me sweat inside my jacket. I wished that my suggestion of travelling by night had been accepted. Sasha, however, had been adamant that neither she nor Tarkik would be happy about being flown when it was dark.
The flatter countryside of Cambridgeshire was sliding past beneath us when Morey returned to my shoulder. ‘I think Tarkik’s starting to dry out.’
‘Raven?’ I called out. ‘How much longer until we’re over ocean?’
‘Nearly there,’ he responded. ‘The crossing is just ahead.’
Morey returned to the sling. I tightened my grip on the dragon spine in front of me. Tyra started to turn first, dropping down to the left. Raven followed her lead. I tried not to worry about the size of the thin place. Surely the dragons knew the width of the crossing.
A moment later we were above a dimly lit ocean. The sun was low on the horizon, nearby clouds flaring red and orange. Raven and Tyra called back and forth to each other, co-ordinating their efforts as they lowered the sling into the water. Morey circled around us. Once again, I felt the strain in Raven’s neck as he fought to hover near the surface. After a minute, the dragons took us back up. Morey dashed over to Tarkik, landed briefly on the padding, then returned to my shoulder. ‘It seems thoroughly soaked again,’ he panted. ‘He should be good for another thirty minutes, especially if we can stay here for some of the journey.’
I glanced over at the stunning sunset. ‘As long as it doesn’t get too dark.’
Morey returned to Tarkik. The lack of any visual interest and the steady pounding of Raven’s wings, plus my sleepless night, made it hard for me to keep my eyes open. I nearly nodded off, and the sudden tipping of my body to the right brought me back again with a start.
The dragons glided down to the sea to give Tarkik another soaking. A bright moon had taken over from the sun to bring light to the sky, but both merwoman and orca were rumbling protests about the dark. We skimmed over the surface of the water, and a moment later we were back in my own world.
The hot dry air made me gasp. I glanced down at Tarkik, then past his sling to the desert sands far below us. ‘Ra
ven, we can’t stay here long!’
The dragon’s ears flicked, but he made no answer. Both he and Tyra pulled their wings in tight, and we dropped down. I tightened my legs around his neck and my hands on his spine. Tarkik whistled a protest, and the sling bounced as he thrashed against his cover.
I could almost feel the crossing sliding past my skin, temperatures plunging back to a much more comfortable level. We were once again over an ocean, and the angle of the morning sun led me to hope that we might finally be near Alba. Sasha was making her displeasure known to Tyra, her Welsh rude and raw.
‘Not much further now,’ Raven called out. ‘We’ll stop for one last dip in twenty minutes, then in about another half hour we should be in Tarkik’s waters.’
‘How do you know where to go?’ I asked. ‘Since you can’t sense Abella?’
‘Tarkik told Sasha what landmarks to look out for, and she’s directing Tyra.’ Raven angled his head to the right. ‘We’re going to follow the coastline.’
‘But they live in the sea,’ I said to Morey. ‘How can Tarkik pick out landmarks?’
‘He’s an akhlut,’ the gryphon reminded me. ‘Maybe they spend time hunting on land.’
Beaches came into view, behind which hills and mountains rose against the cloudy sky. The scene reminded me of the west coast of my world’s version of Scotland. My back was beginning to ache from the long flight, and I could sense that Raven was also beginning to tire. The dragons lowered the sling into the blue waters, then groaned as they lifted him up again.
The coastline broke up into fingers of land. Tarkik started to whistle. Sasha leaned forward to speak to Tyra, then called out, ‘We’re nearly there. Time to release Tarkik.’
I looked down at the ocean. ‘I don’t see any dorsal fins. Are you sure his pod is around here?’
‘He wants to spend some time in the water before meeting them,’ Sasha replied. ‘The sea will restore him.’
