December 19th, 2009

Passing through the protective chambers and reality shifts that lead into the Grove, Claus kept his grip tight on the impostor, a grip made strong by years of hefting heavy sackfuls of Christmas presents about the Earth. I was reluctant to allow such a creature as this impostor into the Grove where my children sleep, but I felt I needed to look directly at it.

As he travelled, more refugees were being brought onboard. Salteye the Pirate stumbled onto the deck, spluttering his thanks and praise, looking around him with familiarity.

“Gleaming metal as far as Oi can see,” he breathed, “Flashing lights and engines bigger than islands. This is a lot more’n any ship Oi ever sailed.” He called up to the crew who were helping the wounded to their temporary guest quarters: “Oi’m a sailor! Oi’ve been sailing half my life. This may not be the Gloomy Gulch, but if there’s anything on board that needs to be done… well, Oi might be able to help you.”

“Yes,” a startlingly familiar voice replied, “I think you probably could. Hrhrrrhr.”


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