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Date Posted: 12:07:23 11/30/99 Tue
Author: Mel Travers
Subject: Keecadoran and von Risper

Keecadoran and von Risper

The crow crash landed on the opera house steps and rolled over a dozen
times. Spitting and sputtering until the transformation was
complete...almost. Keecadoran still had a few feathers growing in the
hollow of her left cheek.
She coughed, hacked and wheezed gradually into a steady pant as she
plucked the feathers out painfully. With the hem of her kirtle she
wiped the perspiration from her face and rubbed her green eye that had
gone lime green. It throbbed and was watering so hard it blurred her
vision and she had to keep it closed. "Using all that power to control
the dragon has weakened me and flying doesn't help any," she said to the
pillar.

Semi-recovered she limped with both feet into the opera house. She
followed the piano music down the aisle of the theater to the stage and
tried several times to hoist herself up, finally just throwing one leg
up and pulling with all her strength, she rolled onto the stage and
stood up with all the dignity a lady could muster. Which was 6 on a
scale of 27.

The dark, handsome, baldpated man in the lace collar and wool-red-velvet
coat was Baron Victor von Risper, the second best pianist in the world.
He stopped playing and stood and bowed to Keecadoran. "My grace, lady
Kee, you look like a three day weekend on a two day pass, old soldier."
He wrapped her brittle arm around his and patted the back of her hand as
he escorted her to the piano bench and seated her. Again he bowed.
"Your perfume, Lady Kee...Swamp-Deja Vu is it not? I've breathed it
before and it leaves me breathless, near death." He stood back and
stroked his baby-fine chin and studied her. "My dear, tsk, tsk; you
have been extravagant with your powers again. How many times must I
tell you? Gingerly my dear, gingerly. These spells I grant you are not
bottomless pits...they run out you know. Fireballs come 25 to a spell,
lightening bolts merely ten; princes into frogs, one. The crow spell
is exhaustible Kee. Use it only at night...short flights. Demons and
witches...when will you ever listen. Now...have you brought me my
scroll of souls? The leaves are beginning to fall. Time is running
out." he lifted the scroll from around her neck and pinched her
scowling cheek. He unrolled the scroll and glanced down the list and
sighed most patiently. "Ninety-eight. Ten years I have given you to
collect 100 souls. Most of my employees get only one year. But this is
your first one hundred years. You have done well...but you must hurry."
He smiled with this wicked joke, "You' are not getting any younger.
Most of these souls are two-for-a-year...some hardly worth a month. Two
kings...they are worth a year. Why can you not bring me a pure-sweet
soul that has been corrupted...these are all thieves and drunkards and
harlots, ones I would have gotten without your help."

"There is a child, Shane, the grandson of Bel--"

The stage curtains billowed and flapped as all the candles blew out and
Risper's eyes glowed red. "YOU WILL NOT TOUCH THE BOY!!!""

Keecadoran cowered on the bench shielding herself with her arms. Risper
calmed as quickly as he had flared. "I beg your pardon." He flicked
his wrist and the candles lit. "The boy is not to be corrupted. His
soul is the purist I have seen in a 1,000 years and his gift and
talent...ahh...his gift. But a few more lessens and he shall be ready.
Then I shall cut out his heart and drink...and all he is I shall be. As
he would have grown older, I shall grow younger and stronger and with
his talent I will be the greatest composer and the greatest pianist in
the world." He smiled. "Do you know why I am only second best now and
that pompous boy-girl is best?" His smile went into mirth even when
Keecadoran did not answer, just shook her head still trembling. "Hechee
is the best pianist because Hechee drinks more beer." He laughed like
ten thousand baritones and stopped. "One day that will be an old
joke...just remember where you heard it first. Now go and get me two
more souls and I shall give you..." he calculated the list..."Fifty
years younger, that is all this list if worth...if you were to bring me
your sister's soul...that would be worth your while...Janora is a pain
in my side."

"But I am growing weak. Can't you give me something now for what I
have?" She looked for mercy in Risper's eyes. He smiled and shaped his
lips in the form of silent 'no'. Now run along and corrupt someone who
isn't already corrupted. This list is shameful. Borg could have given
me these in a month, but I have better things in mind for him, if he'd
stop frightening children and lusting after women...but, he is young
yet...young enough to fall in love." He shuddered at the word. "If
that happens I will lose him to the other side. I hate when that
happens. Win some lose some...merely a game. Now go. The boy should
be here, he is late."

Almost in tears Keecadoran lowered herself with Risper's help down off
the stage and limped and wheezed out of the theater.

Outside her eyes set on the boy running toward her. Trembling she
reached into her pocket, and took out a vile of powder. When Shane
mounted the steps, taking two at a time she flashed the powder in his
face. Shane gasped, startled then fainted. "Now I have something you
want Risper. We'll see who rules this world when the snow falls." She
struggled in panic to pick the small boy up and carried him at great
labor to a horse tethered to a tavern rail. Again with much struggling
she got the boy across the saddle and mounted the horse hiding Shane
under her skirts and urged the horse into full gallop, hoping Risper
would not sense what she was doing. Risper, knowing that no one would
dare defy him , would be unaware until she had the boy where he couldn't
touch him. "We'll see who is in control, Baron, Second Best." She rode
the horse right into the Cathedral.

...........continued....

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