The tree represented the mystery that had captured them all with its eagle still soaring above in the pelting rain. Her hand was in her pocket, pulling forth the star stone and Athamé as she scooped up her staff and faced the tree.She held the stone between herself and the tree and held the tip of the tiny dagger to the stone. Ignoring proper warding of her circle, she simply concentrated on seeing the tree through the black void of the stone she called Key. Soon she could see it and poured herself through the stone at the tree. It began to glow and take shape. The shape that emerged was a person in a long robe, human in form but not identifiable as male or female. Rebecca’s stomach knotted up as she took in the shape of the specter—a dark reaper—the jailer—the gatekeeper of a circle without end. It had imprisoned her before—no, not her; her daughter. It threatened to claim Wesley and Pol, sucking them into its darkness.“No! I forbid them to die. Go you down to their grave instead!”. To my utter delight she accepted.We started the day off with breakfast at a Jerry's Diner on the way out of Denver. We just enjoyed each other's company, and talked getting to know each other stuff the whole trip. On the way back on a side road going into Denver about dusk, my '58 Chevy Delray sputtered to a stop. Yes, it really died of it's own accord!It was getting dusk by then, so I couldn't see to work on it. We decided to stay there till morning, when the sun made it's reappearance.Since I grew up in the sticks, I always carry an emergency kit. It had a couple of quilts, water, dried fruit, first aid kit, oil for the engine as well as the transmission, extra points, condenser, distributer cap, spark plugs, wheel bearings, and grease for the bearings.We ate the fruit, got out the quilts, and settled in for the night, her in the back seat, and me in the front.Like I mentioned before, I was painfully shy. She was a perfect lady.About sunrise we were awakened by the chirp of a.
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