Through A Glass Darkly

Through A Glass Darkly

   by Corrie McKinnon

Chapter Three

“The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.”
– Isaiah 11:6

***

It was dark.

Dark and cold.

Oh no! Was she dreaming again?

As Shelby became more aware, she realized two things: it was dark because her eyes were shut and the cold was a result of being on the ground.

Ground?

Her eyes shot open and Shelby looked around wildly. These weren’t the woods in Peculiar, Missouri! The trees were drastically taller, and seemed more ancient. Noises uttered from the trees were like none she had ever heard before. There was no sign of civilization anywhere. And where was that fairy ring?!

Thoroughly frightened now, Shelby dazedly picked herself up from the forest – for that was what it was, she realized – floor, and absentmindedly massaged her sore head as she tried to place her surroundings.

Suddenly, she froze in terror. Connor! Oh, not again. “Connor!” She screamed, giving no thought to discretion. Just before she voiced another yell, her son complained from somewhere behind her:

“Jeez Mom, you about broke my eardrums!”

Nearly sobbing in relief, she seized him in a hug, ignoring his protests. “Thank God! You scared me to death!” Shelby said hoarsely.

“Okay, okay, get a grip,” Connor muttered in embarrassment, face flushing red.

“Come on. We’re getting out of here.” Holding his hand for reassurance, Shelby started walking. If we walk long enough, we’re sure to find the way out, she determined. Won’t we?

She tugged Connor a little closer. “Stick close, baby,” she murmured, glancing nervously about.

He scowled and mumbled something about not being a baby, but did squeeze her hand. They kept walking.

About an hour later, Shelby was exhausted and Connor was hungry. “All right, we’ll stop for a few minutes,” Shelby sighed. They hadn’t found anything, anyway.

Connor wandered off a little ways, examining a tree, whilst Shelby plopped down tiredly to give her poor legs a break. Why did it suddenly get so quiet? Everything seemed to have gone still. No birds or frogs or bugs were making any noise whatsoever. Not even the wind blew.

“Connor,” Shelby said, standing slowly, “I think we should go now.”

“What is it, Mommy?” His eyes were darting around nervously, and he walked to her, willingly taking her hand. He only called her ‘Mommy’ when he wanted something, or was afraid.

Snap!

Shelby jumped in fright. What was that? Oh Lord, don’t tell me there are bears here too!

Hssss...

She swallowed, forcing her heart, which had leapt into her throat, back down. Connor trembled beside her, but didn’t utter a sound, although he was obviously terrified. His wide eyes met hers and she squeezed his hand for reassurance. Shelby told herself to stay calm. It’s probably just a raccoon, she reasoned.

But the thing that emerged from the copse of trees was no raccoon.

Nor was it a bear. It was a…squirrel?

It was!

However, there was something off about it. For one thing, it was deep, ebony black. That was odd enough, but it also sported ruby red eyes and yellowed fangs covered in frothing white saliva. Rabies? Oh, and it was about twice normal size. That cinched it: trouble.

Shelby recalled reading somewhere that running attracts a predators’ attention. Slowly, non-threateningly, she took Connor’s hand and began backing away. The squirrel-thing regarded them steadily; seeming almost amused by their efforts.

This was not a good situation.

Out of nowhere, someone appeared between them and the mutant squirrel. Shelby bit back a gasp. It was a man! He was tall, over six feet, with long golden blond hair. And what a body! She thought admiringly. He was muscular, but not bulky; lean, but not puny. And all this from behind!

Their rescuer wielded a bow with a quiver full of arrows, one of which, he now had trained on the black monstrosity. The squirrel growled and spat at him warningly. The arrow was loosed and landed with a disgusting slurping sound into the breast of the beast. It gave a last, hair-raising shriek, and died.

The man turned around. Shelby fought to keep from gaping. If perfection had a face, his would be it. Great Shel. Way with the sappiness, she chastised herself. He had intense, forget-me-not blue eyes and generous cheekbones with a firm, kissable mouth. He arched an eyebrow at her perusal and she blushed. The she noticed something starkly different. His ears were…pointed.

Shelby was suddenly feeling lightheaded. Either they had been beamed to Star Trek and this was a Vulcan, or they were further away from home than she had first surmised.

The ‘man’ apparently gathered that something was amiss so he asked her a question. In a language she didn’t understand.

Throughout this exchange, Connor had been quiet, intimidated. Now that the danger had passed, he was filled with an urgent need to speak. “Mom, what’s he saying?”

Still in shock, her reply was mumbled. “I-I don’t know.”

The stranger’s brow furrowed, and he tried in another language, again with no success.

Shelby shook her head helplessly. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you.”

He appeared frustrated with this development and simply stared at her for a moment. Finally, he motioned for her to follow him. That signal was universal, so she understood it, but still hesitated. For all she knew, he could be an axe murderer. Well, what choice have you got? The next thing you meet might be another mutant squirrel!

Interpreting her hesitance as suspicion, he tapped his chest and said, slowly and clearly: “Túrelio.”

Shelby stared at him, trying to puzzle this out. He repeated his motions. Oh! “Shelby,” she said in the same slow, clear manner, also touching her chest.

He reiterated her name, and then gestured to her side, to Connor.

Having observed his mother and the stranger’s attempt to communicate, he copied their actions. “Connor,” he said.

The stranger seemed to have a harder time with this name. ‘Khonner’ they settled on.

He gestured again for them to follow him; this time they did so without pause. After all, who but Lestat would introduce himself before killing someone? She deduced logically.

They trudged along for a while, and Shelby wondered what sane person would think hiking was fun? Then again, her attire might take the blame for this.

On the other hand, Connor was thoroughly enjoying himself. It wasn’t often that little boys had adventures, and he was having the time of his young life! He darted here and there, chattering excitedly, showing her an assortment of bugs and plants. Túrelio supervised carefully, stopping him if something was dangerous. Connor seemed to both delight and amuse him, but there was another emotion hidden in his expression. It was hours before Shelby figured it out. Longing.

When they got hungry, their guide offered them something that looked a lot like her mother-in-law’s homemade bread. She cautiously took a bite, and found herself closing her eyes in rapture. It was sweet, but not too much, and had an invigorating effect on her weary body.

“Thank you,” she said, handing Connor some. Not that he understands, she thought wryly. However, he got the gist, and he smiled, nodding his head.

Shelby didn’t have a watch, but a significant amount of time must have gone by, because night had fallen some time ago. Connor’s feet were dragging, and his eyes were more than half way closed. Túrelio eyed the sleepy little boy, and, without warning, picked him up.

Shelby was startled, but relaxed when Connor went right to sleep. It’s not like he can run with a seventy-pound kid on his back. I hope, she thought.

Soon after that, Shelby began to tire as well. Maybe there’s room on his back for me, she thought humorously. Just when she was about to ask that they take a break, Túrelio stopped and pointed ahead.

Shelby could do nothing but gape.

In front of them was Camelot.

***

A/N: It’s been quite a while since I read the trilogy, so forgive any mistakes you might find. However, I will attempt to prevent said mistakes, as I am armed with The Silmarillion, The Lost Tales 1 & 2, The Complete Guide to Middle-earth, and of course, the original trilogy, which I am re-reading. Thank you for reviewing and I’m glad you’re enjoying the story!

Also, please don’t tell me how no one would blindly follow a stranger, even if they knew their name. I have relatives in Peculiar, and you wouldn’t believe how naïve the whole city is. A bum could walk right up to a house and ask to stay the night, and he’d be welcomed with open arms. Well, maybe not that bad. But it’s close.

Once Shelby finds a way to bridge the language barrier, you’ll find out exactly where she first emerged in Middle-Earth. Hint: It’s near Minas Tirith. And have you noticed how all given names in ME flow off the tongue? If you think about it, Connor's would be more difficult to pronounce.