Through the Kisandra Prism Read online

  ‘Sheep always have filthy bottoms,’ adds the Fairy Queen, ‘what do you expect, rose petals?’

  ‘I would gladly leave Your Majesty…I have wasted two hundred years in transit,’ agrees the Sillian, ‘Now, Calara minor… or the moons of Jupiter, would be ideal. I hear the climate and conditions are perfect there.’

  ‘Look moron,’ replies Grunwalde, ‘I am not operating a travel agency for freaks. And how come if you never leave your burrow you have such good knowledge of the Antares Cluster for such a deformed, cretin-brained, couch potato?’ asks Grunwalde.

  Chapter Nine

  A Victim of a Shadow Chaser

  The Sarris Shadow-chasers do not feel pain or pleasure.

  They will swiftly chase your shadow and jump within,

  wishing to seek out your senses with ardent measure.

  Seeking both your goodly deeds and acts of mortal sin

  ‘We Sillians are a learned species, Your Majesty,’ answers the deformed alien, ‘always hungry for information, facts and interesting gossip.

  In exchange, we often spare the lives of our victims. A Semmi Tal, Shape-shifter, once gave me precise knowledge of the four quadrants that make up the Antares Cluster… including their histories and the species that dwell within. We Sillians value knowledge as other species value monetary currency.’

  ‘Ho – great! So in other words you are skint.’ says Grunwalde, sounding disappointed.

  ‘I once captured a Cold-blood carrying a purse with a hundred gold ducats. I counted the money a dozen times. I would love to have bought a string of blue beads,’ says the deformed Alien; eyeing the blue beads around the Queen of the Fairies slender neck… and maybe even a pair of ‘glass-eyes’… we Sillians are short-sighted you know,’ the Alien added looking in Blodwyn’s direction, focusing on her round spectacles.’

  ‘Well don’t look at my blue beads!’ says Myfanwy, ‘and four-eyes over there, is as blind as a bat without her… ‘Glass eyes.’

  Blodwyn felt sorry for this lonely, deformed being. She had an identical blue necklace; taking it off she quickly handed it to the being and stepped back to a safe distance: out of reach of its long hooked appendages.

  ‘Thank you young Terasil,’ hisses the Sillian. It admires the necklace in its clawed appendage.

  ‘Where is the money now?’ asks Grunwalde.

  ‘Circling a Black hole where Cygnus minor used to be… before it exploded two hundred years ago.’

  ‘Flaming Hell!’ exclaims Myfanwy, ‘just my rotten luck.’

  ‘Now clever-clogs,’ continues Myfanwy, ‘my shadow was not quite right today. My Lings smelt someone…but saw no one. My shadow had a little snout and a pot-belly – explain that.’

  ‘Then you are now harboring a parasite!’ answers the Alien.

  ‘Uggh…gross… You mean a parasite is curled up in my guts scoffing all my food?’

  ‘No… A Sarris,’ answers the Sillian, ‘a Shadow-chaser has jumped into your shadow and is now in your body… stealing and feeding off your sensations.

  Grunwalde giggled nervously, holding her slim stomach. ‘Now isn’t that the queerest thing.’

  ‘You see a Sarris feels no pain or pleasure,’ says the Sillian, ‘they have to steal these experiences from others.’

  Grunwalde giggles hand over mouth, ‘how embarrassing. What… you mean the Shadow-Chaser is there when I am going to the toilet – bloody cheek!’ exclaims the Queen of Fairies.

  ‘It is there all the time. A Shadow-chaser has no respect for Queens of high station.’

  ‘Will the Sarris tell everyone what I get up to?’ asks the Queen of the Fairies.

  ‘Shadow-chasers are not discreet Your Majesty,’ answers the Alien. A Sarris will tell everyone what you have done and what you experienced. It is eavesdropping even now on our conversation.’

  ‘Flaming Hell!’ Exclaims Myfanwy, ‘Listen here you little snitch,’ says the Fairy Queen patting her tummy, ‘don’t you dare go around telling everyone what I get up to and don’t go snooping around down there either… and keep your dirty little hands to yourself!’

  ‘Can a Sarris be got rid of ?’ asks Blodwyn.

  ‘Immerse your whole body in water on a moonlit night… a Sarris is hydrophobic, it will panic, leave your body and run away. A Shadow-chaser shows up green in moonlight,’ adds the Sillian.

  ‘Could a Sarris be also spying on me for the Malis Afar?’ asks Grunwalde.

  ‘No. But the Cold-bloods are planning to capture you, Your Majesty… the sly Jal-Mar have a potion to kill your magical powers…so they claim.’

  ‘Well clever clogs – I know things that you don’t know – you smelly little know-it-all.’

  ‘Such as… what?’ Blodwyn interrupts.

  ‘Well… let me see,’ ponders Myfanwy, and turning to the Sillian says, ‘I bet you did not know…ah yes…your son is a gay, pyromaniac… who sniffs glue… and your Grandmother is a raging, pigeon-breasted, pole-dancing transvestite…there see… you did not know that did you?’

  ‘Stop talking rubbish Myfanwy,’ says Blodwyn, ‘what are you going to do about the Sillian?’

  ‘I will send two of my Lings, Boodi and Boochi, to contact the Salas Panar, or the Dandy Indra; to take you away from earth.’

  Myfanwy welcomed a chance to get rid of the two most mischievous and annoying of her two Lings. The beautiful Mayling Boodi was very greedy and always kept the best morsels for herself; Boochi was the Sisling who had taken to dropping unpleasant things into its Queen’s ever ready cherry pie mouth at feeding sessions.

  ‘No! Your Highness. The six-fingered Salas Panar are thieving rogues, they will sell me to the Jal Mar or to our enemies – the Orb eyed Oga Koya. The Dandy Indra are of direct simian descent – they are terrified of Sillians. They will kill me!’

  Blodwyn moves closer; more confident now.

  ‘The Sillian is right – only the Galla Qualls respect all life forms. They can be trusted – I have seen a caged Sillian on Goya Perilus bought from the sly Jal Mar and then sold on to the Malis Afar.’

  ‘For how much?’ asks the Fairy Queen with sparkling interest.

  ‘Can’t remember,’ fibs Blodwyn, just in case Grunwalde got any mercurial Ideas.

  ‘That Sillian was me!’ exclaims the creature, ‘I escaped, when the Galla Qualls war fleet ambushed the Malis Afar invasion fleet.’

  ‘The Galla Qualls could be anywhere,’ says Grunwalde.

  ‘Perhaps I may be of assistance Your Majesty,’ says the Sillian, ‘I know the Galla Qualls are testing a new Time-traveling war ship now orbiting the Planet Mars’.

  ‘Your Lings could reach the Galla Qualls in two days.’ says Blodwyn.

  A thrill of excitement flooded Blodwyn’s body. The Time-ship was obviously ready; would the Galla Qualls come for her as they had promised? Was this her chance to go back into the distant and near past; there was a family mystery she wanted answers to. “Was the beautiful young girl who approached her in True Arcadia and who held her hand with detached affection, her Grandmother – now a Star Child? What did the prehistoric period really look like? What was it like when the Malis Afar ruled the earth and man was only three feet tall?”

  Then suddenly a discrepancy entered Blodwyn’s mind: If the Sillian had been in transit in the meteor supposedly for two hundred years before it reached Earth – how did it have such up to date information? She would have to find out.

  ‘How do you know all this recent information… if you were cocooned in the meteor for two hundred years?’

  ‘The Sarris told me early this morning,’ answers the Sillian, ‘it was feeling very unwell – its previous host only drank strong, foul liquid and breathed in clouds of choking smoke. The Shadow-chaser was so ill that it was forced to leave this host. It staggered up the path, intoxicated, where it gave up all these sensations in its stomach – it will be very hungry now – right opposite my trap door… we spoke.’

  ‘You mean the Sarris Shadow Chaser puked?’ as
ks Myfanwy holding her stomach and giggling. ‘Don’t you dare throw up in my guts… Mr. Sarris… and don’t go snooping around in there either… or I will lampoon you.’

  Blodwyn knew straight away the Sarris had entered Bryn Jones the Wino’s body and was the victim of one of Jones’s drinking binges and accompanying hangovers.

  Myfanwy patted her tummy, ‘now remember – don’t you go telling everyone about me, you naughty little Sarris.’ Then after scrutinizing the Sillian’s deformed body she asks,

  ‘Are you a she-male or a he-male?’

  ‘We are sophisticated-hermaphrodites.’ answers the Alien.

  ‘Ugg… you sickco…you do to yourself, in the dark!’ exclaims the Queen of the Fairies pulling a face.’

  ‘No Your Majesty, we produce both elements for fertilization – it’s an evolutionary process – we are all females now - our males were useless, small, lazy half-wits. But they were tasty eating if you could catch then – you had to be quick mind you - they did not take long.’

  All males will soon become redundant…after all, they only have one purpose and goal in mind – and they are not very good at even that.’ chuckle, chuckle.

  ‘Do you lay eggs then?’ enquires the Queen of the Fairies.

  ‘Every hundred years… they are delicious… I can’t stop eating them… also the hatchlings… I am afraid to say…even so they are sweet little things, scurry here and scuttling there, trying to hide from mummy. I am about to begin laying another clutch soon.’ ( The cannibalistic tendencies of this alien, was nature’s way off keeping the Sillian population to a minimum).

  ‘I would eat my children,’ announces Grunwalde Angharad, ‘medium rare with butter and a little garlic… I will try a dozen of your eggs – washed first and while we are dealing with that end – I’ll have a dozen yards of gossamer silk. I think… I will pass on your little smelly little scuttling brats.’

  ‘Then… Your Highness, may I ask a favor in return?’

  ‘Depends… providing you don’t want to suck my big toe,’ answers the Fairy Queen.

  ‘Would Your Majesty change into some terrible creature, endemic to Earth?’ asks the Sillian, ‘it would be a great privilege to say: ‘I witnessed the beautiful Changeling Queen transform herself.’

  ‘There are many terrible and frightening creatures on this planet,’ warns Grunwalde.

  ‘I am beginning to enjoy being frightened.’ answers the Alien.

  Myfanwy concentrates; her atom molecules melted and mingled, spilling onto the rocky earth and then reshaping themselves. Soon on the ground lay the powerful thick, colorful, coils of a very large reticulated python. The snake raised its big triangular head, hissing at the Sillian, eyeing it with glassy, intent eyes. The alien stares back at the giant constrictor without apparent fear; it in turn sniggers and hisses back at the serpent.

  ‘What wonderful magical power,’ says the Sillian, ‘the likes of which I have never seen before.’ The Alien cursorily stretches out one of its six hooked appendages to touch the reptile’s large, scaly head.

  In one lighting movement, the python strikes – gripping onto the creature’s arm with inward curving teeth – making escape impossible. Quickly, the snake arches and effortlessly drops a coiled loop over the Sillian’s head and shoulders, griping the Alien’s torso. The giant constrictor squeezes.

  The Sillian emptied its single lung in a loud surprised hiss: the python tightened its grip.

  ‘I cannot… in…hale!’ gasps the Sillian, as another thick coil tightly embraced his ribcage and squeezes. A grinning Sisling hovered close to the alien’s face with eyebrows raised, showing its razor sharp teeth.

  ‘My ribs… are cracking… Your Majesty…!’ croaks the Alien, with its last suffocating breath.

  ‘Stop!’ shouts Blodwyn ‘you are killing the Sillian.’

  The giant python reluctantly released its grip leaving the Sillian gasping and clutching its damaged and broken rib cage.

  Blodwyn knew Myfanwy was showing the Alien her power.

  ‘I have never seen such a frightening creature,’ gasps the Alien, ‘my two hearts are beating dangerously fast and several of my ribs have broken.’ The deformed Alien continues to stare, still fascinated as Myfanwy turned back into her beautiful self as Grunwalde Angharad, Queen of the Fairies.’

  ‘Stay underground,’ orders Myfanwy – wait ‘till you are sent for – do not kill anymore sheep…or humans for that matter.’

  The Sillian bowed deeply to the Queen of the Fairies.

  Grunwalde Angharad turns on her heels and disappears into the dappled shade, leaving the surprised Blodwyn alone with the grotesque Alien!

  ‘Thank you for not divulging the true cost of a Sillian on the open market,’ says the Alien focusing its small eyes on her.

  ‘My name is Blodwyn,’ she answers, ‘I hope you will remember that if I am ever caught in your sticky trip lines!’ The Sillian nods slyly: “could this deformed and dangerous alien be trusted” she wondered?

  ‘If you are ever ensnared by another Sillian… Blodwyn, you must tell your captor that you once witnessed the beautiful Queen of the Changelings summon me, Tagamentaries Mengentarporus asking for wise counsel about a Sarris Shadow-Chaser. You must tell them that in return, at my request, the Queen of Changelings turned into the most frightening creature that squeezed the air from my body and broke my bones… till you saved my life. This story will save your life. It will dull any Sillian’s appetite, but sharpen their curiosity.

  ‘But how will another Sillian know I was speaking the truth?’ Blodwyn asks.

  ‘Simple. No one ever thinks of asking a Sillian its name!’

  ‘Thank you,’ says Blodwyn,

  One more thing,’ says the Sillian, ‘please place these beautiful blue beads around my neck.’

  The being held up its hooked appendage, ‘we are not very dexterous I am afraid.’

  Blodwyn took a deep breath and quickly fastened the beads around the alien’s short sinewy neck. The gruesome Sillian disappeared back into its burrow with lightening speed; quickly reappearing with a small leather pouch.

  ‘A gift of Antares gold ducats,’ hisses the Sillian …we Sillians are also astute…and good judges of character.’

  The leather pouch was heavy. Before she could utter a word the being had disappeared back into its dark borrow closing the trap-door behind it in one movement; again, just like a trap-door spider: she shuddered. Blodwyn quickly left the scene; she counted the coins. A dozen shiny, thick, pure golden ducats. What could she do with the alien gold coins as they were? “Given enough thought all problems can be solved,” she remembers and quickly walked home. Blodwyn was just in time to help with the first cut of hay of the year.

  That night on the bank of the river the Queen of the Fairies accompanied by two Sislings stood in the moonlight; she slowly entered the water and submerged. Within seconds a thin, bluish, green life-form emerged from the flow and ran into the woods over the water’s surface. The being had a pot belly, a pug snout and long fingers and toes: the Sarris Shadow Chaser! The Sarris ran into the gloomy woods with incredible speed – chased by the two red flashing, angry Sislings – they quickly returned and reported.

  ‘The life-form has disappeared – before we could even sting it.’ They complained. The Sislings were both wrong and right at the same time. The Sarris Shadow Chaser had stopped its flight and had stood under a leafy rowan tree, as still as winter moonlight – the pursuing Sislings had flown straight through it. For you see a Sarris has no substance; for it feeds on Items of no substance, like feelings of love, hate and exciting experiences.

  Chapter Ten

  Myfanwy’s New Car

  ‘Now is it not the queerest thing,’

  says the lovely Queen of the Fairies.

  How gracefully I dance and sing;

  compare me to a sky lark, on the wing.

  Watch me daintily step, hop and twirl;

  my voice ringing so sweet, true and clear;


  Like the dainty dulcet notes of any spotted Maris or blackened Nearl.

  Myfanwy Jenkins was an only child and in simple terms was ‘spoiled rotten,’ by both her doting parents. Both mother and father were small, dour, dark and dull looking professionals. Not a single golden hair sprouted on any part of their bodies. It was difficult to imagine how two such plain looking people could have conceived such a beautiful daughter; apart from a mistake in hospital: or adultery.

  It was certainly not the latter; Tala Pandy was too small a village for any goings-on to be missed by the curtain twitches and shutter lifters. Therefore one would have to assume that it was a long, dormant and distant gene that had at last woken to claim its place in the Jenkins’ long bloodline… of small, dark and dull looking people.

  Nevertheless the Jenkins were very proud of their tall, graceful, flame-haired and beautiful daughter who towered over them; Myfanwy could do no wrong; she was like a cuckoo chick in the nest of two small reed warblers.

  The Silky Changeling who took her place in the Jenkins’ household was an exact replica. However, a Silky Changeling is still a Silky at heart; for that is the nature of Silkies.

  Mr. and Mrs Jenkins noticed sudden changes in their daughter’s habits and behavior which they often puzzled over; firstly there was Myfanwy’s sudden liking for fish – especially sushi. Normally their daughter would rather kill herself or sulk in her room for days when offered fish of any kind.

  Myfanwy developed other strange habits like lying in a cold bath for hours and demanding fresh fish sandwiches laced with seaweed.

  Another odd thing that they observed when walking with their daughter over the hills and the beaches of Cardigan Bay, was that Myfanwy had taken to sitting in shallow streams and puddles with her clothes on. The once fastidious Myfanwy also began drinking from streams and swimming to the bottom of deep, ice-cold mountain pools.