Halfling;The Sentinel Chronicles. The Rod of Ardum.(Complete

Karma

It was a cold, dreary Tuesday morning in August.  I was surrounded by foul-smelling ingredients stuffed into plastic packets. I sat devising a job spell from my ancient grimoire passed down to me from my grandmother. A persistent ringing came from somewhere off to my right, interrupted me.

"Hell, and damnation!" Witchcraft is hard enough these days without a teacher and became quite a bit harder when everyone keeps calling the heck out of your phone, while you're trying to concentrate. A slight moment of anxiety threatened when I let my overactive imagination run away with me, thinking something horrible happened to mum while out with her friend.

I should've ignored the summons of the irritating and repetitive tone. The scammer launched into his spiel. After a few minutes, I ended the conversation with a snarled word too rude to repeat in a well-mannered society. The operator tried to convince me there was something wrong with my internet gateway. After telling him no several times, I swore and hung up.  This type of call drives even the most patient person bloody mad!  Patience is something I do well; lack of tolerance is a nasty reoccurring issue.

"You are a moron." I scolded myself harshly. Nothing seemed to be going right this morning.  I admit I am a terrible witch. Only one in every seven spells turned out the way I wanted them too.

The mailman on his irritating buzzing bike came while I still raged ten minutes later, setting all the neighbourhood dogs into a frenzy of salivating excitement. The three-legged dog from two doors down chased him with teeth bared.

"Run Mr Postie, if Jake gets you, you'll need new pants." I left to check the post while chuckling darkly.

On top of the pile of letters for my mum and Danny sat a thick yellow envelope with the strangest coat of arms. It stated my name, Elisabeth Templeton and the words private and confidential.  I started to groan, following up with a healthy bout of swearing.

"How many times can they call you for jury duty?" I asked Sebastian, my mother's fat orange tomcat, lying curled up squashing the fern in a big ceramic pot by the front door. Only fifteen-kilogram ginger can give you an expression, clearly saying you are a stupid human.

The damn feline's a half-demon. I poked my tongue at him as he launched out of the planter and on to the ground, he hissed as he passed me slinking through the open door.

With quick jerking tears, I opened the envelope. Mr William Goddard, assistant Director of the E.F.P.I.D., extended an invitation to participate in an all-expenses-paid training course. The camp runs for two weeks, and at its conclusion, I receive possible placement into the E.F.P.I.D. A low branch sector of the government.

"There is always a catch, but who cares this could be the break I've been waiting for." There was no use pretending. I was going. I crossed the room and rang the number at the bottom of the page. A cool assessing female voice answered the phone.

Kylie, Mr Goddard's assistant, was sending a list by overnight mail. The plane was leaving at seven, Friday morning and not to be late. Mr Rosin the company's Public Relations officer will be expecting me.

"This note will self-destruct in ten seconds." I murmured after hanging up the phone.

Sebastian jumped up on the table and sniffed a couple of bags before turning disdainful eyes in my direction. The expression building across the cat's face alarmed me. Stepping to one side, I hid my arms behind my back, and the evil feline took a casual swipe at my exposed elbow with one giant claw. I resisted giving my book of shadows a friendly pat as I headed to my room to begin packing. Sebastian inched his way closer to me. No doubt the blood he drew last night with his three-foot fangs hadn't been enough for the little monster.

"No need for the job spell after all Sebastian old boy. Maybe my luck is finally beginning to change." I called out to him from the safety of my bedroom. He hissed at me in reply.

I stuffed the last of the washing into the dryer when the hair on the back of my neck rose, alerting me to someone behind me. I turned sharply dropping into a defensive crouch.  Fists up to protect my face. My heart beating a million miles a minute, and my breathing ragged with fright.  Mum took a hasty step back; rather pleased with herself for having scared the living wits out of me and shortened my life span by about thirty years.

"Hello." I sagged with relief—brown eyes a mirror image to mine laughing down at me. I glared up at her, not in the least impressed with her stealthy entrance.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack? If I did die of fright, you'd have to do this s**t all yourself. BTW I'm buying you a big noisy cowbell." Most of my ire at the humour dancing across her face slipped away. I could never resist when she's happy. Mum laughed, putting an arm around my shoulders.

"It's not my fault you were off with the fairies." I succumbed to her humorous nature and rolled my eyes.

"We are funny today, did we eat clown for breakfast this morning or the whole circus? Where is the pimp cane?" I walked into the kitchen and flicked on the jug for a cuppa.  Mum took her customary seat at the head of the table.

"I think I am a little better and decided not to take it with me; did Danny get off to school?" She asked.

I faced her with a frown.  I shook my head, wondering at her inability to see her fifteen-year-old mutant was a little turd. The squid was about to become calamari, I thought with a grin.

"Sometimes, I do not understand you. You know feeling alright does not mean there is nothing wrong. Keep the cane, and the Principle rang. Danny hasn't been to school for almost two weeks; he wanted an answer as to why. One of the squid's friends told him I went away and Dan was looking after you." Attempting to appear calm, although inside I braced for the fallout. Mum's eye twitched, she sat up straighter in her chair.  Here was the woman I remembered. The one who went venom spitting insane when I'd been caught wagging school. Mum let out a calming breath. I froze when she did this; it was a new reaction for her.

"I'm sure Danny has a good reason for cutting his classes." I stared at my parent as if someone burst through the front door and slapped me in the face with a semi-frozen mackerel. She was supposed to go postal and do the banshee screech thing she always did when I was younger.  I felt let down; my inner Zephyr crash landing. I mentally sagged.

"Uncle Chuck rang as well; he saw Danny this morning with a bunch of kids at the town pool." Defeated, I slunk into the dining room and handed mum her mug of steaming coffee.

Figures, mummy's little boy gets away with murder, again! Finally, I looked at her properly after sitting down with a huff; my gaze caught a flash of what appeared to be humour. She grinned at me over her cup.  She was laughing at me!

"You knew!  You have already seen the little toe rag. You, big suck." I groaned. Mum reached over patting me on the top of my head, now leaning face-first on the tabletop buried by bags of chicken bone dust I had been searching for earlier.  I groaned again, my voice muffled by the rustling plastic and wood.

"The Principle and Chuck called my mobile; we picked Danny up from the pool and took him back to school.  When he gets home, I am grounding him for the next eighty years, and I am taking every electrical item in his room and throwing it in the bin. I might even hose them first so he can't get them back out again."

Vicious, evil woman. I wondered if I should take a photo of the destruction and plaster it all over Danny's f*******: page.

I winced at mum's words, remembering what she had done to me when caught my friend and me smoking m*******a in the back shed.  Lifting my head, I peeled a small bag from one of my cheeks. I peered fondly over at the other woman. I was shaking my head at her still grinning face.

"Do you remember being his age?" She asked, confirming my parent thought the same horrible things, running through my head. I screwed up my face, nodding my head.  Mum grinned wider, the evil strands of parental- guerrilla warfare shining in her veteran eyes. I gulped.

"Unfortunately, my selective memory did not follow me into my twenties. You tied us, body stoned, to the fence and turned on the sprinkler. Afterwards, you sat us here at the table and made us smoke the whole bag until we greened out continuously for the rest of the afternoon." I had never been so violently sick in my life. With my head in the toilet bowl, I rode the porcelain express well into the evening.

"Yes, I did, and you never did it again. Danny gets to benefit from my vast array of punishment experiences." I frowned feeling sorry for my misguided little brother and a touch guilty.

"Poor squid, kids not going to get away with much is he?" Mum shook her head. I'd been a devil on wheels and had almost driven mum right up the wall. Poor Danny, he was up the creek without a paddle. Note to self: Apologies later I thought. Well, I suppose two actions my brother did not have to worry about; due to a recent cyclone, we no longer had a front fence. The regional water restrictions meant using the sprinkler was out! Lucky little bugger!

I glimpsed the envelope from this morning staring out at me from under a packet of Thyme. Mum watched me as she drank her coffee. She was waiting for me to tell her what was on my mind. I took a deep breath and told her about the letter and training camp.  I braced for nuclear fallout. Danny might get away with murder when it came to me; my mother had a long memory and did not like change. I was apprehensive about telling her there is a chance I might be leaving.

"What do you think?" I always wanted her opinion; she was so much more objective than me apparently. I am notorious for jumping headfirst into difficult situations without looking first before I leapt, according to her.  Mum frowned, thinking. I could almost smell the smoke coming from her brain as the old cogs turned.

"It's a good idea; it wouldn't hurt to go along. Check it out, but do not commit to anything until you're sure. For goodness sake, Lisa do not forget to read the fine print before you sign anything."

I agreed, absently scratching Sebastian's head. He lay curled up on one side on the table in front of me; thankfully, he had his eyes closed and was blissfully unaware who was patting him.

Mum's reaction threw me. I was trying to hide the shocked expression on my face. Usually mum would jump straight on the offensive and rant about not having the help she needed, I weighed her down, cramping her style, stopping her from doing what she wanted. Honestly, some days it was like having another teenager in the house. The next three days would be spent glaring at me for my audacity and the following three, drowning me in guilt for wanting to leave her. Dumping her and running, were her previous arguments when I went out to work as a night cleaner and she had to make her coffee in the evenings. I shook off my thoughts and turned back to the woman beside me. Gods forbid I am not paying attention to her every syllable.

"What else is wrong, you have a funny look on your face, did one of your spells go bad again?" Concern made creases in the skin on her forehead deeper. I shook my head a small smile touched the corners of my mouth; there she went again with shocking me. Mum never asked about my witchcraft, and she preferred to pretend I was 'normal'. I did not want to tell her about my dreams, but I needed to talk to someone, and Greta was M.I.A. again.  I was out of options.

"I keep having these dreams; there is one about a dragon. There is also a weird one about Great Grandma. She's sitting in a chair, and she's singing to me. I think it's a warning of some kind, it's bizarre." Mum put her cup down.  She said she tried her hardest to be open-minded whenever the subject of my 'extraordinary beliefs' came up.  I was her daughter, after all. Mum's self- sacrifice was always so touching.

"Was she singing something in particular?" She asked. I paused, trying to remember her exact words.

"Thrice around the stump, you go where it ends the Griffins will know. Thus, time of wings and talons past, with naught a tale to tell. With fur and beak and mane shall seek the truth of strife will sell. Trapped will be and held so tight the future of life will rile. Follow the master of nature's light and Archaniel daughters will. With scale, and might, and fire to fight the white sure not to fail. Guard well the next of ancients might, and take this sight to heart. Where when the griffins seek the mark hearken the ancestors spark." I wondered if I left any of it out.  Mum laughed an oddly strangled sound. My gaze snapped to hers in suspicion. I'd heard the laugh a couple of times, and it never bodes well.

"Some warning, stumps and griffins, sparks and seeking of marks. Come on, Lisa; do I need the sprinkler again?" I glared at her. With a sigh, she scrunched up her face in concentration, after a minute of deep contemplation she shrugged.

"Not a clue Elisabeth. Griffins do not exist; might this be one of your wacky dreams. You have had them before. I remember the one about the creature eating a heart. Perhaps you should write them down and sell them to the paper."

"Never mind." I managed to say without grinding my teeth. So much for having a supportive mother. Irritated I ran one hand through my hair. A loud peeling sound split the air; the sharp ringing jerked me from my confused musings.  Mum answered on the third tone.

"I do not have the bloody internet!" Laughing at her as she hung up, my mother spun around to glare at me, my laugh growing louder as I slapped my leg in mirth. Karma, gotta love her.

On Wednesday night, I tossed and turned, I dreamed of vampires and goblins. Trolls and gnomes, of warriors, honour, deceit, rivers of death and a man.

The man I loved wrapped me in secure arms. Blood flowed from a small wound at his pale throat; my tongue lapped eagerly against the column of flesh.  The incredible, addictive taste hit me like a wall of pure energy! Liquid fire lit my skin from within. Pulling him closer and craving more, his heart beating against my breast, his weight pushing me into a soft surface. A seductive voice whispered like velvet in my ear. The words incomprehensible, muted and garbled. The male's presence filled my consciousness, almost taking me over.  Green eyes held fire, his big hand on one flushed cheek. Razor-sharp incisors in his mouth, his tongue glided up the side of my neck. My lover rolled me on my side and sliding one of my knees up to cradle his hip. My hands delved into the long dark hair at the back of his head.

"Love me." A wave of pleasure coursed through me.

"Always, my sweet Halfling." Twin fangs pierced deep. The vision faded, a presence brushed my mind, registering shock, amusement and desire.

"So beautiful." Infinite power swamped me. Without warning a cavernous room appeared around me. My dream man lay beside me, my head against a large pillow, a roaring fire to one side—a thick fur rug beneath me. My fantasy lover peered down at me through a pair of bright emerald eyes. Long black hair fell from a widow's peak, pulled back from his face. With a strong jaw and a sharp nose, his beauty took my breath away. The mystery man's lips brushed feather-soft over my closed eyes, along my jawline and at last settled over my mouth. An inferno erupted in my blood; the fire roared through my veins. My arms wound around his corded shoulders as my torso aligned flush with his. Strong hands swept the length of my body hungrily.  We rolled off the rug to the cold stone floor. He growled and gripped my thighs as I rose above him to sit, astride his hips.

"Tell me your name siren." So suddenly, he sat up our noses almost touched, his demand spoken softly, his breath mingling with mine.

"My name is Elisabeth." My hands trailed down his chest to his stomach, loving the muscled abs against my fingertips.

"Elisabeth." He growled against my mouth, his breath mingling with mine.

"So vivid, I've never dreamed like this." My lips were feathering against him with my whispered words. Leaning back, he gazed into my eyes.

"This is no dream sweeting; you are in my subconsciousness." He stated. With a cry of shock, I slammed barriers down around my consciousness. I was confused at finding myself alone in my bedroom.

"Oh my god! I'm crawling in someone else's head!" Still unbelievably hot from my unscheduled trip, I reached up to turn on my air conditioner. My hand was trembling as I pressed the switch on the wall. How had I even connected with him, who was he? Probably the sexiest man ever. So powerful. His mind, old and filled with vast knowledge. When he touched me, the sensation like a physical caress.

"Just my luck that he's in my head and not with me in bed," I muttered closing my eyes on a sigh. When I opened them again, I lay on the fur in front of the fire. The man knelt on the hard stone, his head bent, clenched fists resting on his thighs. His eyes shut, he appeared like he was in agony. I moved towards him until I was before him. My knees were brushing his. His head snapped up.

"You came back?" He sounded shocked and pleased.

"Ah-." My dream man spoke before I collected my scattered wits once more.

"I thought you were aware; you were not dreaming. Forgive me." He caressed my face with one large hand.

"No, it's not your fault, I invaded you not the other way around. I did not mean to come back. I was thinking about, about what we did and I found myself back here. This sort of thing has never happened to me before. You are a huge surprise a-and I do not know your name." I murmured embarrassedly. He smiled and pressed his lips softly to mine.

"Seth. Do not be sorry. Feel free to visit again. Sweet dreams beautiful Elisabeth." I groaned, opening my eyes to see my room.

"Seth," I whispered to the darkness around me. I shook my head stifling an uncharacteristic giggle and pushed the man from my thoughts, forcing my body to relax as I settled against my pillows. I sighed as sleep once more claimed me.

At dawn, I woke with a scream. A smoke bomb exploded in my bedroom. I scrambled off my bed and to the floor coughing, spluttering, and cursing. In the hallway, an angry Danny, our insane Uncle Chuck and Mum grinning like a loon. Chucks booming voice ordered us out to his Ute and on to his property. Where he would spend the day kicking the crap out of us with military exercises. The old girl wanted our moral fibre to hold something extra. I thought my fibre's excellent thanks.

Chuck subjected us to his brand of training for the last eight years. Since his children escaped after finishing high school. Now, Danny and I crawled through chest-deep mud pits while Chuck hunted us by paintball gun and nine full hoppers. This lot's going to hurt. Chuck's clips packed eighteen hundred rounds. Not cool! I thought, eyeing the trees around us.

"Where is he?" Danny's voice whispered from beside me. He sunk as far into the sludge as he possibly could while trying to use a bulrush as a snorkel. I rolled my eyes at his antics and moved forwards, careful not to ripple the surface and give away our position. Something whizzed past my head, splatting in front of my face. I swore.

"Chuck's got the bloody scope, haul arse squid!" Savagely, grabbing Dan by the back of his shirt. I hauled him with me into a dense cover of ferns. Rounds peppered the trees to my right, turning their white paper bark yellow, blue and green.

"Run, damn it. Stay close to the ground I'll draw him off." I pushed Danny in front of me, motioning for him to keep low. The old buggers were going down this time. I'm going to kick his butt up one tree, and down another, I vowed silently. I ran in the opposite direction to my little brother trying to bide the poor squid some much-needed escape time. I came to a sliding stop as Chuck jumped out of his tree blind. He pulled his hunting knife. I sidestepped his lunge and came in low, clipping his hamstring with my elbow. Chuck grunted swinging around with one foot. I jumped, twisting away; his boot grazing my legs. Chuck came to his feet. I needed to disable him quick or serious pain would ensue. I lunged, realising at the last minute my mistake. I underestimated my opponent, gotten cocky. My left foot encountered a concealed rope coil; the trap tightened around the ankle of my boot. Seconds later, I swung by one foot, three feet off the ground. Chuck laughing like a mad man, returned his hunting knife to his boot.

"Got cocky, didn't you, girl?" Chuck stepped closer to twitch my nose. I twisted, contorting my body painfully and clobbered him on the head with my other muddy, foot. The old man teetered and fell backwards on his butt, dazed, he shook his head a couple of times.

"Now you blasted scrub rat, get me the hell down." I swung side to side and growled menacingly at my uncle. Danny appeared hesitantly around a tree, he took in the sight in front of him and crowed. Chuck reached into his pocket and pulled out a water bomb. With dead accuracy, Danny copped paint full in the face. My turn to laugh as yellow paint covered Danny from head to waist. Gods, I loved Karma.

Thursday night thankfully came swiftly. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, my subconsciousness, unfortunately, missed the memo.

My great grandmother sat in her favourite chair by a fireplace; she smiled at me.

"A change is coming dear, thrice around the stump you go where it ends the Griffins will know, thus time of wings and talons past, with naught a tale to tell, with fur and beak and mane shall seek the truth of strife will sell, trapped will be and held so tight the future of life will rile. Follow the master of nature's light and Archaniel daughters will. With scale, and might, and fire to fight the white sure not to fail. Guard well the next of ancients might and take this sight to heart where when the griffins seek the mark hearken the ancestors spark!" I awoke with a start, sitting up my hand fumbling for the switch for my bedside lamp. Every Thursday night, the same dream, and with each one, the level of urgency changed.  I looked up startled. Catching my reflection in the mirror beside my bed.  The dim halo of light, faintly illuminated a small circle of darkness around me, causing my sleep mussed, waist length, brown hair to appear darker than normal. My too-big brown eyes seemed almost owlish with the fright-paled skin of my face.  I sighed, running an agitated hand through my hair, pushing the heavy strands back from my face with frustrated jerks. As prophetic dreams go this one chimed in as doozy. A clear nine-point, zero on my holy hell meter. How can I tell the dream is prophesy?  The good and the lousy travel in threes and last night's my third. No way would I get back to sleep.

"f*****g hate prophecy," I muttered as I got up and hit the shower. Four hours remained to kill before my plane. On a pure stroke of genius, I brought a new DVD the day before. Thank the gods.