Despite the Angels - By Madeline A Stringer Page 0,2
want Lucy and David to get together anyway. They have such good energies when they do, remember when they were Alessia and Danthys in Crete? You never know what they or their children might achieve.”
“We must get on with it. There is no guarantee that this world will last forever and then where could we send them? It could take millions of years for another planet as good to be ready and what would we do with them, not to mention all the other souls hanging around at Home here, with no lives to go to? The thought is unbearable.” Jotin slumped, his usually large energies contracting as he looked forward into a future he did not relish.
“Yes, and them being in different soul groups here makes it worse. They see so little of each other,” Trynor was fluttering on the spot, wondering how to cheer his friend, “so what can we do?”
“I do have a ‘Plan B’ for this life, if you’ll work with me and hold off till Lucy is old enough to marry. Kathleen is helping on this one, though she doesn’t know it. Her guide told me about the outline plan for Kathleen and it works well for our needs too. So promise me - no more flowery T-shirts for the moment. Let your Lucy be a child, and enjoy it.”
“Oh, she does. You know, she still loves her Noah’s Ark, even though it’s only plastic. Still occasionally makes it new plasticine animals. I’ll work on her Dad about the bike. Now, are you going to explain your plan?”
So Jotin did.
Chapter 2
Crete 1598 B.C.E.
Trynor sat in the sun at the palace in Malatos, nearly two day’s walk east of Knossos, allowing it to freshen his energies. He watched fondly as Alessia chattered happily to her friend the scribe, who worked next door to Mikolos’ gold workshop. They had got into the habit of bringing their lunches to a shady corner of the courtyard, protected from the midday sun.
“There’s no point going to sit at the viewpoint with the others,” the scribe had explained to Alessia the first time they had lunch together, “when I can’t see the sea.”
“But I thought-” Alessia started, but she was cut off-
“No I can see it of course, but just as a big blue blur. It is frustrating when everyone else is pointing out the diving birds and the fishing boats. I have never seen a bird fly, they are always too far away. That’s why I learnt to write, it was close enough to see. Even so I have to put my nose so close I get clay on the end of it. I could have learnt goldsmithing like you, except for the times where it has to be melted. My hair would have gone up in flames. Cooking is dangerous enough.”
“Have you caught fire?” asked Alessia.
“Oh, yes, a few times. I eat mostly raw food, it is safer. And I fall over things I can’t see.”
“But you can see? You are not like Filos?” Filos was an old blind fisherman, whom the whole town supported because he could predict storms by smelling the air.
“No, I can see perfectly when I come close, like this. Oh, you have the prettiest freckles on your nose!”
“Have I?” Alessia rubbed her nose, suddenly self-conscious. She changed the subject. “Is there a spirit for writing like there is for gold?”
The scribe considered this for a while. “I do not think so. No-one has ever told me so. The marks all have meanings and if you know them you can share information, that’s all. Why do you ask?”
“I thought everything had a spirit, I never met anything that didn’t. I talked with the spirit of the clay I worked with back home in Tylissos; and on my way here to Malatos I learnt how to talk to the earth spirit. I would be lonely without the spirits to talk to. Are you not lonely?”
“No, I am too busy. I can hear the voices of the other scribes whenever I read the tablets, then I put my voice in the clay for them. I have friends in other towns who I have never met, but we can talk to each other.”
Alessia’s eyes shone with this new idea. “So your tablets do have spirits, they have yours,” she said, taking the scribe’s hand, “put in there by you. That is truly magic!”