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The official car dropped them off at a modest little holiday cottage on the grounds of Balmoral Castle, a two-story stone house with an attached garage and a nearby barn. Matt had barely gotten out when his young siblings surrounded him. "Matt! We're gonna see Nessie again!"
He smiled, ruffling fur and kneeling down for a gathered hug. "I know. That's why we're all here. Where's Mom and Dad?"
"They're inside. Mom's asleep. We had the coolest plane ride! It was all by ourselves, and we didn't have to wait in any airports or stand in lines!"
The hawk/cougar griffin who'd followed them outside chuckled. "Best way to travel. They even had a seat designed for me. I'm now officially spoiled."
Candace gave him a hug. "Taze! Good to see you again."
"Likewise. How's Josie?"
"Asleep at the moment, car rides will do that to her. She'll probably wake up soon, but for now we'll let her sleep."
The driver handed the keys off to Candace, since Matt was occupied. "This car will be at your disposal while you're here, Mrs. Ludlow. They will be sending cars for all of you at six for dinner with the Royals this evening, though."
"How are you --" Another car pulled up behind them.
"I'll be riding back with the rest of your off-site security detail now that you're on the Estate. Let us know if you want to visit somewhere else so we can arrange things for you, but we assumed you'd want to catch up with your family today."
Candace grinned. "I think you assumed correctly. What should we wear for dinner?"
"Business casual, I think you call it. This is not intended to be a formal dinner, after all. The little ones will be dining with George and Charlotte, so anything reasonable will be fine."
Matt stood up again, and turned to join the conversation with the triplets clustered around him. "I take it that Prince William and Princess Kate will be there, then?"
"That is correct, Captain. They'll all be involved in the ceremony. Your sister will be concealed with several other otter kits of her age as an entourage for the new Duchess, while Mr. Klim will be taking the center of attention for now. But that's for tonight. For now, we've taken the liberty of delivering luncheon, so enjoy your afternoon."
* * * * * *
They were greeted at the entrance by Sir William. Selma grinned and demanded a hug. "Nessie says hi. Are we gonna be ne-go-she-atin' again tonight?"
"Just a little bit. The major event tonight is just going to be a quiet dinner so you can meet people." He turned to Matt and Candace. "I'm Sir William Pendragon, Captain. I've been the primary point of contact with your sister and Nessie so far."
Matt stared for a moment, then visibly shook himself and accepted the offered hand. "Matthew Ludlow, Sir William, my wife Candace, and our daughter Josephine. Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise. Welcome to Balmoral Castle. If you'll follow me...?"
Matt had looked things up when the invitation had first arrived. Although it was built to a style reminiscent of the late middle ages, Balmoral was more a palace than a true castle. Queen Victoria had had the original structures rebuilt in the 1850's; the interior was practically a museum dedicated to a century and a half of the British royal family, and Matt felt his innate sense for history tingling as they passed through rooms that had seen six reigning monarchs and their families. Even the children were quiet as they trooped through elaborately furnished rooms. Eventually they arrived at a double door along the side of a smaller dining room that was being set for dinner, and their guide knocked. "They're here, mum."
The room beyond was built to a more reasonable scale, and while still palatial, looked a bit more comfortable. The Royals looked very much like their photographs; a fifth adult, apparently the governess, was entertaining young George and Charlotte. Sir William announced them. "The Speaker for Duchess Nessie, Selma Ludlow, and her family. Her parents, Dr. Gary Ludlow and Diana Ludlow, her brothers Captain Matthew Ludlow, Nathan, and Lucas. Matthew's wife Candace and their daughter Josephine, and Peter Klim. Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, Prince-Consort Philip, Crown Prince William and Her Grace Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, Prince George, Princess Charlotte, and their governess Miss Beatrice Newell."
The visitors bowed. Gary spoke for all of them. "It's an honor to meet you, your Majesty."
Kate smiled to herself at those words, as if they'd triggered a memory. Elizabeth waved them all to the empty seats that were scattered among the occupied ones. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you all. Sir William has brought good reports, and my security people and yours concur." She smiled at the little ones. "Lucas, Nathan, why don't you go get acquainted with George and Charlotte for now. Selma, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to sit with us boring grown-ups for a few minutes."
The boys padded off to say hello, while Selma nodded. "Nessie said that was prolly gonna happen. Gotta spend time talking with the other pod leaders." Matthew chuckled, ignoring his mother's glare.
The Queen nodded to the little otter. "We'll make sure you have some time to play.� Childhood is precious, and we are not going to make you start working like a grown-up before you even start school. But we do need to have you spend at least a bit of time helping us talk to Nessie."
Selma nodded. "That's okay. She explained it to me. She's my friend, and friends gotta help each other out."
The Queen smiled. "That's good to know. Now, we've gotten the basic ideas settled, but we need to get down to brass tacks."
"Brass tacks?" Selma asked, confused. "Why do we need to talk about tacks?"
The Prince Consort smiled at her. "It's a saying, dear. It means we have to settle some of the details before we make her a Duchess officially."
"Oh! Okay" Selma's tail twitched, and her demeanor shifted as Nessie spoke directly. "Thank you. What details do we need to discuss?"
* * * * * *
Nessie and the Queen spent a good half hour hashing out the details while Sir William took notes and everyone else made suggestions. At the end, even Diana was grudgingly satisfied with the agreement. "And that should be that. Sir William, if you would be so kind as to inform them that we are ready for dinner?"
"Of course." He headed off while her grandson helped her to her feet.
The little ones were seated at a side table with Miss Newell presiding and two maids assisting. The adults were seated, apparently randomly, with the Queen and the Prince Consort facing each other from opposite ends of the table. "And business has been concluded. It is never a good idea to discuss business over dinner, in any event. It is bad for one's digestion."
"I would agree with that." Matthew added. He found his seat, and took a moment to look at the china. "Is this from Britannia?"
The Queen smiled. "It is, indeed. What did I tell you, Philip?"
"I should know better than to wager against you by now, dear."
"You don't *always* lose."
"Most of the time, though."
Diana gave her son a rather pained look. "Another ship obsession?"
"Hardly, Mom. Britannia was the royal yacht for quite a while before she was retired. I was planning to visit her at some point while I was stationed over here. There's a lot of history that took place on board her."
"Remind me to send him a VIP pass, Sir William. I think he'd appreciate it a lot more than most people."
"Of course, your Majesty."
Matt perked up. "Thank you, your Majesty! I'd like that very much."
"It's the least I can do for someone who recognizes her china pattern on sight." She smiled as the appetizers were brought out to excited and happy chirps from the young otters. "Shrimp cocktail, as you call it. In honor of our special guest today." She smiled indulgently at the happy youngsters. "How are you finding your assignment to Germany, Captain?"
"So far it has been an interesting new experience. There have been ups and downs, of course. And I suspect my immediate superior is a bit curious as to what this has all been about."
Candace chuckled. "You mean he's been miffed that he's not in the loop."
Elizabeth nodded. "You'll be free to tell him all about it next Monday, of course. That should make him somewhat happier."
Matthew gave her a relieved smile. "Thank you, your majesty."
She turned to the senior Ludlows to ask about the status of Project Mirror, and Taze took the opportunity to lean over and ask a question. "How'd you know that? The patterns all look the same to me." His crest feathers went up as Matt inhaled to start talking. "On second thought, I withdraw the question. I don't want to know after all."
Sir William joined in. "Now you've got me curious. Why not?"
The griffin chuckled. "When Matt gets that look in his eyes and the question involves a ship, he'll go into details that will both surprise you and probably bore you to tears. I think he's branched out."
"Branched out?"
"From his deep and encyclopedic knowledge of the Titanic."
This produced a puzzled frown. "Titanic. You mean that movie with the two illicit lovers on the sinking ship?" Pendragon asked.
"A Night to Remember was much better. Walter Lord used as many first hand accounts to write it as he could get. The DiCaprio version was too much Hollywood and not enough history." Matt responded with a slight snap.
Taze chuckled. "What? Not going to ease him into it with the first movie?"
Matt shook his head. "It's always better to go with the book. Movies always leave things out. It's not their fault, entirely, it's the nature of the medium." Matt answered, doing his best not to give in to his obsession. "Check libraries or ask the staff here to get you a copy. I'd loan you a copy, but I didn't bring one with me."
Pendragon gave him a bemused smile. "I see. I didn't realize it was based on a real event. It was more like Apollo 13 than Star Wars, I take it? I shall put that at the top of my list, you've piqued my curiosity."
Matt gave the young man a sidelong look. Something about that admission seemed... odd. "I'd definitely recommend it. Lord did an excellent job collecting and collating it all."
"I'll send you a letter when I finish it. You remind me of a friend of mine."
* * * * * *
Matt frowned to himself as he got ready for bed. Candace couldn't help but notice his uncharacteristic mood. "What's bothering you this time? It's not Mama Wolf, I hope."
He shook his head. "No, it's Sir William. There's something about the way he was speaking, the way he was talking about the Titanic. It was like he thought it was just some fanciful movie, and I can't believe someone of his obvious intelligence would be so unaware of it." He sighed, "Like a fish out of water. Taze didn't catch it, but there was just something off. And I kept expecting to see a sword at his side."
"Well, he is a knight. Must be your history-sense telling you something. What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. If he's this close to the Queen, they must have vetted him thoroughly. She obviously trusts him, and he doesn't set off anything twitchy with my instincts... but if he does send me a letter, I am going to try to maintain the correspondence."
Candace chuckled. "What? Hoping to turn him into a fellow Titanic fan?"
Matt paused, considering the question, and then shook his head, "No. No, I doubt he'll be that interested. It's more like I need to get him caught up on things. Fill in some holes in his knowledge." He paused again. "And I have no idea why I think he needs that."
"Dear, I know you. Something's tickling your subconscious, and it'll sort itself out sooner or later. Now get your tail over here, this bed has insufficient otterage."
"Yes, dear. Your wish is my command." He grinned. "And vice versa, now that I think about it."
* * * * * *
"Jack! How do you feel about a run up to Scotland tomorrow?"
John Harrison glared at his boss for using the nickname. He'd never gone by Jack before the Event, but afterwards... well, he supposed it was inevitable after becoming a rabbit changeling. "Wasn't expecting to. What's up?"
"We're not sure. We got an official notice that the Queen was going to be giving a speech Friday, with the usual invitation to send a reporter to cover it. The normal form, but it's unusual timing."
"Yeah, it is. Isn't this her vacation time?"
"It is that. She's usually out of the public eye for July and August. I double-checked, and she's been up at Balmoral since the third, typical summer break. There's nothing weird going on - well, no weirder than usual these days - but we did find one thing out. She's been gathering up local changeling youngsters and their families and kitting them out for whatever it is. And no, they don't have any details either."
"And you thought of me, so we'll look good if it's something changeling-related?"
"Partly that. Partly that if it *is* something major, I can trust you to do a good job with it. When they have her send a message with one of these things, it tends to be an important one. And this is on awfully short notice. If it *isn't* important, why the rush?"
"True... okay, Frank, I'll do it. But I want Josh and his team for the camera crew."
"No problem, already gave 'em the word to be ready. Got hotel reservations in process, you'll have them by the time you get to Inverness."
"Where's the speech going to be? Balmoral?"
"Someplace called Urquhart Castle, out on Loch Ness."
Hare and human stared at each other. "You don't suppose...?"
* * * * * *
Friday, 20 July 2018`
They arrived absurdly early by the standards of normal people, but normal guests didn't need to have security check out their equipment and truck before they were allowed on site. Workmen were there already as well, setting up stands and a podium for the dignitaries down at the water's edge. Jack and Josh just exchanged glances and continued setting up, making sure the links were talking properly to London (an ongoing and steadily worsening problem since the Event) and setting up the establishing shots. When the sun was properly up, he did some background pieces about the castle's history as they waited for the arrival of the Royals. You never knew when something like that would turn out to be useful, after all.
The locals started arriving about nine in the morning, families with changeling kids. "Is it my imagination, Josh, or are they all water types?"
His cameraman zoomed in on them. "Yeah, looks like. Otters, water rats, a couple seals."
"Water rat? You mean that funny-looking mouse?"
Josh nodded. "Yep. Water voles, officially. And a beaver, too."
"What about the horse?"
"With a green mane? That's no horse, that's a kelpie."
John blinked. "A what, now?"
"Mythical beast. Looks like a horse, but aquatic. Supposed to lure people to ride it and then drown them. Personally, with what we know now? I bet they were just defending themselves."
"True. I doubt they'd let a dangerous Changeling near the Queen. What are they wearing? I don't recognize the tartan."
"Neither do I. 'Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice...'"
"This might be more interesting than I thought."
* * * * * *
The early morning clouds broke up as the morning went on, the day turning sunny if a bit on the cool side. Jack and the other media outlets were towards the back, with good views of the stands and the loch beyond. He nodded to his colleagues at BBC and ABC while they waited for things to start. Josh started as an official car pulled up and the occupant got out to walk down to the lakefront stands. "Jack, that's the Prime Minister!"
Harrison looked over, startled. "They didn't mention anything about her being here in the press invite, Josh. What the hey is going on?"
"You've got me. This is getting very interesting, indeed."
"So who all have you spotted?"
"The PM, Mundell of course, and I think that's Fowler. Why would the Lord Speaker be here?"
"No idea. Who's the griffon?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Never saw him before. There seems to be a fair number of diplomats in the audience - I recognize our ambassador - and some local dignitaries if our colleagues from the Times are correct"
The Queen was the last dignitary to arrive. She made her way to her seat and then everyone else stood for the national anthem. May took the podium for the opening remarks. She got down to the substance of her speech after only a few minutes of platitudes. "But I'm sure you're all wondering why you've been invited to be here today. To answer that question, I'm going to have to provide a little background. A few months ago, a young tourist met a very unusual person..."
They worked their way through the other politicians one at a time; David Mundell, the Secretary for Scotland; Baron Fowler, Lord Speaker of the House of Lords; the chief executive officer of the Scottish Canals Trust; and Nicola Sturgeon, First Minister of Scotland. All of them hinted at the identity of the guest of honor, but none of them actually said it outright, leaving the audience on the edge of their seats, and the press corps mostly in disbelief.
"And now, Her Majesty has graciously consented to introduce our guest of honor." Sturgeon looked as though she didn't believe what she was saying, and she happily surrendered the microphone as the Queen stood and came forward to the podium.
"Thank you, First Minister. I'm sure most of you have guessed by now just who we have invited to be today's featured speaker. Unfortunately, she - and yes, she is definitely female - is not able to give a speech herself, but can only communicate through a select few individuals who can understand her. She is an ancient being, by far the oldest living thing on Earth I am told, and generally keeps to herself. She would like to continue this tradition, and I expect all of you to respect her privacy going forward. She will not be available for interviews, I'm afraid. To enforce this, and since she is quite intelligent in spite of her inability to speak in any human tongue, the Government has agreed to my suggestion to grant her a life peerage, and the direct ownership of the eastern half of the Caledonian Canal System; Loch Oich, the Rivers Oich and Ness, and of course her primary habitat, Loch Ness, as her estate. I give you Duchess Nessie, Protector of the Caledonian Waters and of the aquatic changelings of the new Clan Ness." She turned to look at the water's edge, where the youngsters were waiting.
There was a dramatic pause, just long enough for people to wonder if this was all some elaborate practical joke, and then the plesiosaur was there, suddenly visible but already on the shingled beach as if she'd simply been awaiting her cue. The little ones cheered and clapped, even as their parents reacted in everything from wonder to near-panic at the sight of the plesiosaur sitting next to their kids. The politicians who hadn't been in the full loop simply stared, trying to act as if they knew it all along.
Breaking News signals went out to a dozen media desks as the cameras zoomed in and a dozen reporters started talking to their now-live audiences. The rabbit regained his composure faster than most. "This is John Harrison, live from Urquhart Castle in Scotland, where Queen Elizabeth has just revealed the existence of the actual Loch Ness monster - and granted her the title of Duchess. As you can see, she's some kind of plesiosaurus - we'll have to get the scientists in to identify her actual species, I expect - just as some of the cryptozoologists suspected she might be. They haven't provided many details yet, but... oh, good, they're passing out information packets right now. Let's see... her full official title is Nessie, Duchess of Caledonia, and she's also the Chief of Clan Ness... The new tartan is a mix of her own colors, and blue and white representing the waters...
* * * * * *
"Have a seat, Ludlow."
"Thank you, sir." Matt took a chair and waited expectantly. "I assume you've seen the news reports?"
"I have. Caught you in the background of one of the camera shots, so don't try to tell me you were somewhere else."
"Of course not, sir."
"I take it that you know whoever it is that can talk to Nessie. Fill me in."
"The griffin, Sir Peter? He's a family friend. He's not the one who can talk to her, but I'm not at liberty to divulge that bit of information yet. It's one of the kits, though. They're keeping quiet about it until they're of age."
"So why the rigamarole about making her a duchess, then? Protected species, I could understand."
Oh, she's quite intelligent, sir. I understand that she initiated the contact with the Brits to enlist their help in maintaining her privacy."
"So what do they get out of it?"
"Prestige, tourism, points with the Green faction. And access to her assistance in duplicating her stealth ability."
Banks perked up at that. "Stealth? What kind of stealth?"
"Pretty powerful. I experienced it myself. I actually could tell that there was something odd going on when she was hiding herself, but only if I concentrated. It was like a blind spot in the water where she was. You tend to skip over it unless you're actively trying to pay attention."
"Huh. It would explain how nobody found her all these years, wouldn't it?"
"Certainly wouldn't have hurt."
"You sure she's safe?"
"Candle had a chance to get up close to her. She assures me that Nessie's an honest-to-God plesiosaur, and definitely a piscivore." He paused at Banks' frown. "Fish-eater."
"I keep forgetting your wife is a biologist."
"And if she ate anybody now that she's come out in public, we could definitely deal with her, stealth field or not. Besides, she's taken an interest in the local aquatic kits. You've seen the pictures, haven't you?"
Banks grudgingly admitted to it. "The one where she's going all mother hen and hissing at the reporters when they rushed forward and scared the kids?"
"That's the one."
"They tell me she's volunteered to start a Guides branch for the water folk. What we call Scouts. If we find ourselves in England at some point, I'll probably have to enroll Josie on general principles."
Banks snorted a laugh in spite of himself. ""You go right ahead and do that. Keep me posted on anything you do find out, got it?"
"Anything that I'm allowed to, sir. With the senior members of both NSA and MI-5 taking an interest in things, I'm not about to rock any boats."
"I guess not. Dismissed."
* * * * * *
Banks stopped on his way home, took a spare phone from his pocket, and headed down a hiking path before dialing. It was picked up after three rings. "Yes?"
"Able Dog Zebra."
"Fox Yoke Sugar."
Banks relaxed slightly with the sign and countersign given. "I was right, our furry friend was involved in that business in Scotland."
"I hope you aren't calling to gloat."
"Of course not. I have some additional information. He says that the Canadian is a family friend. But I don't think that's the communications channel they were referring to."
"No?"
"No. I suspect he was chosen for the role *because* he was a family friend. He mentioned that the conduit is actually one of the kids. The picture that the press is so fond of, with the creature touching noses with the young otter?"
"Yes?"
"There's a very strong family resemblance to our friend. And yes, I can tell them apart."
"I thought his daughter was younger than that."
"She is. But he has some siblings much younger than he is. Apparently his parents were also transformed and started a second family after the Event."
"Interesting. We'll look into that."
"Carefully. NSA has taken a close interest in him, and now the Brits have as well, even if I'm wrong about his relationship to the link."
"Understood. Anything else?"
"Negative. Out." He ended the call and finished his walk.
* * * * * *
"Sir? We have an update from our contact in Hammerstein."
"Go ahead."
"He reports that the otter kit in that one picture is likely related to his water-mage. Says he can see a family resemblance, and they were all on vacation together in Scotland in May. He suspects that the kit is the actual contact with the lake monster."
"Is this the one in Project Mirror, or in the railroads?"
"Mirror. Shall we have our agents there keep an eye on them?"
"I think that would be a very good idea, yes."
* * * * * *
"Bon matin, Captain. How are things these days? All done with the tracas?"
Ludlow had seated himself in front of the big fish tank when he got the text. "I hope so, but I am not banking on it." He answered. "My gut also says I'm going to be back a few more times if certain pups have their way."
Devaux nodded at his emphasis on 'bank' but made no further comment on it. "Your daughter, or your sister?"
Matt shrugged. "Both, most likely. I think I'm going to be a diplomatic guard if certain little ones get their way."
The mouse chuckled. "The pistache do have their ways. But now that you've settled in, we're going to get you set up to use this network."
"Didn't you say that had to be done in person?"
"I did. Which is why I called. Gon' introduce your teacher. Reynard?"
The image split, the mouse shifting left and the right half now showing the image of a fox. "Bonjour, Capitaine."
"Bonjour, monsieur. Are you here in Europe?"
"Not yet, but I'll be returning soon. Expect me in about two weeks. It shouldn't take too long to teach you the necessary spells."
"All right, that shouldn't be an issue. Is this an NSA secret?"
Marie shook her head. "No. It's just that most folks can't learn the needed spells. If you want to use it for your duties, go right ahead. If you want to pass it on, that's fine as well, once you're experienced with it. It's far easier to teach magic in person, and one of the reasons is that someone should be there to shut it down in the event of a mistake."
Matt nodded. "Makes sense. M. Reynard, I'm looking forward to your arrival."
"Merci. You'll know it's me when I get there."
* * * * * *
Director Lowe had settled into her alternate office now that the weather was turning cooler and a working fireplace wasn't an invitation to heat exhaustion. She looked up as her name was called from that fire, and then her ears went back. "Coyote. What's gone wrong this time?"
"Now, now, Diviner. I get in touch with you for other reasons now and again."
"Mostly to invite me to drunken parties. There is a *reason* I don't drink any more."
The old trickster nodded, momentarily contrite. "Aye, I know. It doesn't mesh well with foretelling. But this is in a professional capacity, and with a little bit of luck there won't be a problem. I'd like to introduce you to one of my descendants."
The man was ancient, his face wrinkled and weatherbeaten, and wore the native clothing of one of the Sioux tribes. The wolf took in his regalia, and her eyes widened at the sight of a Second Armored Division patch among the more traditional decorations. "Wowakhang."�
He smiled. [You know our speech?]
[Among others. How may I help you, Shaman?]
[Coyote has told me of your power, and I would ask a question.]
[You fought with Patton?]
[I did.]
[Then you are owed a boon. My power is not always precise, but I will do what I can.]
[I am Red Falcon, and my father's great-grand-daughter Butterfly married a warrior of your people. Her third child was Changed when the world was renewed, becoming an otter. She has since married another warrior, originally of your people but who was changed as she was. Swimmer was raised in the traditions of our people, and has asked that her man be adopted into the tribe. Butterfly has reported that he has been on a spirit walk, and seconds her daughter's request.]
[This begins to sound familiar.]
[You know of him already?]
[I may. A captain in our army, who was healed by his transformation?]
[Yes. His name is Matthew.]
The wolf's eyes turned witchfire white as visions of the future danced before her. When she came back to the present, she was silent for a time. [Interesting.]
[Should we grant this request?]
[You may. It does not affect what will be, as far as I can tell. Whether you do or not, he will do great services for both our peoples. I have one request in return.]
[And what is that, Seeress?]
[Keep this conversation secret. He will do better if he does not know what is coming beforehand. He is young, and does not yet understand that all things pass in the fullness of time. If he knows aught of what is to come, it will fill his days with sorrow. And he has sorrows enough with his visions of the past.]
[I shall do as you ask, Seeress. Thank you.]
[It was my pleasure, Shaman. I wish you well.] She turned to Coyote again as the old man left the firelight. "And that goes for you, too. No telling the Captain about his future."
"Not to worry, I didn't catch most of that anyway. My Lakota's a few centuries out of date."
"Good. Make sure it stays that way."
* * * * * *
The doorbell rang just as they were sitting down to dinner. Matt grumbled as he pushed his chair back to answer it. "If that's Reynard, I'm going to ask why he didn't call ahead."
The moment he opened the door, a feral fox dashed through, ran to the table, and perched on his chair, to delighted giggles from Josie. "Doggie!"
Candace chuckled. "That's not a doggie. That's a fox."
Josie absorbed this information. "Why?"
"Because he's got pointy ears and a big bushy tail."
The fox wagged his brush at the compliment. "Merci, madame. Capitaine, if you could close the curtains?"
Matt stopped dead and stared at the talking animal. "Monsieur Reynard, I presume?"
"Mais oui. The curtains, sil vous plait?"
Matt shook himself and complied. When the view from outside was cut off, the fox shimmered and shifted to a full anthropomorphic form. Josie applauded. "Do again! Do again!"
"Later, young loutre. But dinner first, no?"
Matt nodded as he brought out another place setting. "Oui, monsieur. Dinner first, you must be hungry and tired from your travels. If only you had warned us you were coming tonight, we would have done something fancier."
Reynard grinned. "A bit, perhaps. I am avoiding certain parties while I set plans in motion. I think they suspect what I can do, but few humans know how to track a fox, and in that form I am never asked to prove my identity." He smiled at Matt's apology. "No, no, this is fine. It just needs one final touch..." He pulled a bottle of white wine out of nowhere. "An excellent Muscadet from the Loire Valley."
Matt sighed. "I'm afraid I don't drink. It is against my faith."
Candace interrupted. "But I will be glad to share it with you. Thank you for the gift."
"C'est dommage. I was not informed."
"No offense taken. Let's have dinner, and then you can show me how to make magic phone calls."
* * * * * *
Matt had listened to the explanation and taken notes while Reynard called up the first connection, and found himself face to face with a decidedly feminine otter. She smiled at him, flirting just a bit. "And this is our new American friend, Reynard? No one told me he was so handsome!" She laughed at the cough and expression Ludlow returned. She giggled. "Only teasing dear, I know you're married. A shame for me, but a boon for her." She laughed again. "I'm Undine."
Josie chose that moment to escape from her crib and come looking for a bedtime snack, and paused to stare at the faces in her fish tank. "My fish!"
Undine laughed, delighted by the little one. "She's a darling, Captain. I'm not going to steal your fish, bambina. We are just talking."
Ludlow smiled, "Grazie per alvero detto."
"It is only the truth, Matthew. We're busy, little one, and I don't think you're supposed to be having a snack right now. Can you be good and watch?"
Josie nodded and sat quietly as her father sat her on a chair. "My turn to give it a try?"
"Yes. We'll start with someone you know. Dreamweaver. She normally works with a fireplace rather than an aquarium, though, so *hangnis* instead of *wodr*." Reynard monitored it as Matt worked the spell, subvocalizing and ready to intervene if there was a mistake, but the otter made it through without a bobble and the mouse's face was soon floating beside Undine's.
Josie clapped and waved. "Hi! Do again, Daddy!"
Dreamweaver grinned. "Hello again, *pistache*. Gettin' her started on the magics early, Captain?"
"Not intentionally. She's mostly behaving, though, so I'm letting her watch."
Matt got more practice as more and more images were added to the aquarium. In addition to Undine and Dreamweaver, Reynard coached him through adding the blonde and winged Walkure, Poland's Hunter, and France's earth elemental Roche. Reynard called in the last contact, and the meeting began in earnest.
"Thank you, everyone," that last man began. "Dreamweaver, will you vouch for us?"
"I can and do. Captain Ludlow, these are all trusted agents and senior mages of various NATO and allied governments. Not that we will be asking you to divulge any secrets to them, of course. But we would like you to give us the details of your interaction with those street preachers in Belfast last spring."
Ludlow nodded. "Should I call my wife in as well?"
He shook his head. "Not just yet. Perhaps later if we need her viewpoint."
Matt frowned. "Have I met you, before? Your voice sounds familiar."
He chuckled. 'This is my true face. You met me in July at Balmoral. I don't generally go by Merlin right now."
"Merlin? The Merlin? L'morte d'Arthur's Merlin?"
"That I am, boy." He shifted briefly. "You might recognize me better this way."
"You were with Sir William... Wait. Is he really...?"
"Certes, he is. And before you ask, yes, his half-sister is likely still around as well. So we don't use certain names in case she's listening for them."
"Does Taze know? He'd have a field day with that if he knew."
"We told Sir Peter, yes. He's helping us adapt to the present day, and Wart's training him in proper swordplay, so it's a fair trade. Shall we get started?"
"Yes, sir. I don't know if all of you have been told, but this was back in May, when my family and I were first traveling here... "
* * * * * *
Candace finished up her side of the story, having been drawn into the discussion when she came out to retrieve Josie. "... and after a quick check by Officer O'Kelly, we continued on our way. I can understand why you're concerned, if they are using mind control to get people to agree with them. With that blocked, even Josie didn't believe them."
Hunter snorted. "She's a bright enough child, but..."
He was interrupted by Josie nodding her head. "'Member dat. Dumb deer."
"...but on the other hand... " He shook his head. "Moj Boze."
"Her preferred bedtime story is a late nineteenth century artillery manual. I have a feeling she'll be following in my footsteps."
Candace grinned. "You never know. She might go Navy." Matt stuck his tongue out at his wife. Josie giggled and made faces.
Hunter just shook his head again. "Good luck, Captain." He turned back to Merlin. "Precocious otters aside, what do you think? Is it her?"
Merlin shook his head. "It doesn't sound like her at all. She was always more skilled with illusion and misdirection, not mind control. She would trick you into doing something, not force you to. And she was never a druidess. Always quite fond of her creature comforts, she was. No, this is someone new."
Walkure frowned. "So, yet another player in the game. How many does this make?"
"Four at least. Reynard's cabal, Martin's opponent, the remnants of the Muslim fanatics, and this nature freak. Five if the Captain's bovine friend wasn't involved in one of these groups. I'll take this to the Director - the rest of you pass it on as needed." Dreamweaver glanced at Merlin's image. "You want to report to the Eldest, or should I?"
"I'll handle it."
"Merci. I think that concludes everything. Good job with the connections, Captain. You handled this without a bobble, first time out of the gate."
"Thank you, Doctor. If that's everything?"
A quick glance around the faces produced no dissents. Dreamweaver nodded. "Looks like it. Go ahead and shut down. I'll let you know if there's any further developments." The images started vanishing one by one as people broke the connections, and Candace put a finally-napping Josie to bed.
Reynard poured the last glass of wine and offered a toast. "To a successful experience."
"Thank you. I'd offer a place to sleep, but I'm afraid we don't have a guest room."
"No matter. I can sleep on the sofa in feral form, if it's not too much trouble."
"No trouble at all, I can find you a blanket if you want."
"That will be fine." He thought for a few minutes while sipping from his glass. "You are a very talented mage, you know. Still inexperienced, but that will be cured with a bit of time. Have you ever been to any of the painted caves?"
Matthew shook his head.�"Not yet. I plan on visiting the museums. I doubt they'd let me see the real deal."
"There are still some sites open to the public." He grinned. "And they don't know of all the caves."
"What are you suggesting? I can't very well go feral like you."
"You might be able to learn how. But you don't have to be feral to enter some of them. They just haven't been found yet. They are magical places, some of them. Literally."
"Sounds like an adventure."
"It would be, for the right people. You have a great respect for history, I've been told. I think you would appreciate them."
"I am sure I will."
The fox nodded. "Then we shall have to 'put it on the to-do list', as they say now. You might even be able to learn the Old Magicks."
"That would be fun. Personally, I am curious to see if I can, or if it's only open to those like you. Legends and myths."
He shrugged. "I don't see why that would matter. I wasn't yet a legend when *I* learned it. Let me know when you can take leave for a few days."
"Will do. Now let me get you that blanket and we can continue this over breakfast."
* * * * * *
21 December 2018
It was only a small dolmen, with none of the grandeur of Stonehenge or the sheer extent of the Bretagne lines; but it stood at a confluence of ley lines and to those who could sense these things, it was a tap into the mana generated by the Earth itself. She could sense, vaguely, that she was not the first to take advantage of this.
She'd spent the first summer after the Event tracing the lines to this place, an ancient habitation on Rathlin Island off the northern coast of Ireland. She had then sunk all her savings into buying land on the island before starting to spread her message. Six years later, the support of her followers had allowed her to buy up a fair fraction of the island, either directly owned by her or indirectly by her people, and it had already had only minimal electricity. Six years after the Event, she was ready to make it her domain entirely.
The exact moment of the winter solstice was approximately two hours before local midnight. Her followers were holding their own observations of the event all around the island and beyond, on their own, or mingled with others who sought to follow the ancient ways in spite of having no true knowledge. This year, though, she would claim the title of Archdruid by demonstrating her control - and rejection of - technology. The pretenders and charlatans would be exposed for what they were, and those who truly sought the ancient ways would join her when she proved herself. After all, the Goddess favored her. She'd given her a non-human form and rejuvenated her in the process, had She not?
She stood before the bonfire, at the head of the circle with her four most trusted lieutenants at the other points of the star. The language was ancient, the words given to her in a vision of the past. One by one, they said their parts and offered their sacrifices.
Aed, the vixen, slashed her arm and burned her blood with her own flames, casting the ashes into the bonfire.
Bran, the raven, slashed his palm and blew the blood into the fire as a red mist.
Fionnuala, the swan, mixed her blood with water and sent it into the bonfire where it hissed and popped as it boiled.
Dagda, the bull megaloceros, mixed his blood with earth and threw it into the fire.
Hers was the final and greatest sacrifice, her own heart's blood. She stabbed herself with a flint blade of the ancient pattern, coating it with her sacrifice. The wound healed behind the blade as she withdrew it, and she completed the ritual, casting the bloody knife into the bonfire and saying the final phrases.
The hare laughed as the magic rolled out from the central fire, all five of them sensing the subtle change in nature as it took effect. From their vantage point at the peak of the island's tallest hill, they watched as the remaining electric lights winked out one by one. Half an hour after they had cast it, it reached the East Lighthouse and the light went out. By midnight, all three lighthouses had gone dark, and the island was firmly in the grip of the Old Way. "You see? I am Rhiannon, and the true heiress to the Druidic Lore!"
The other four cheered their success. Dagda bowed to her. "We never doubted you, milady. What comes next?"
"The mortals will undoubtedly investigate..." She paused as the edge of the spell rolled over one of the freighters moving through the narrow passage of the North Channel and it, too, went dark. "They will investigate, but there is little they can do. The world was already changing, we merely sped up the process here, and I doubt that they can even be sure that we were involved. We will wait, and watch, and soon enough the entire world will have returned to the True Way."
* * * * * *
Matt smiled as he entered his home. He'd made it with ten minutes to spare - the German government had decreed that all vehicles were to be off the road from a half hour before local midnight until midnight Greenwich, just in case the annual New Year's hiccup affected cars or traffic signals. He'd had the evening watch, but turnover was early to allow the departing watchstanders time to travel. He'd made it home in time to celebrate New Year's with his family, and he had the next day off.
The first thing he noticed was the scent of wood smoke, the second was the sound of scampering paws and a cry of "Daddy!"
"What are you still doing up?" he asked her.
"Mama said tonight is holly day!"
Candace joined them. "She was good and had an extra nap after dinner. How was work?"
"Quiet enough. They still haven't figured out what happened in Northern Ireland, though, or why it happened early instead of at New Year's. At least the non-tech zone has stopped expanding. They're worried that it might jump or start moving again tonight, but it's not my immediate problem now. So far, the annual twitch seems to be minor." He hung up his winter service jacket and knocked the snow off his boots as he sat down on a bench by the door to untie them. Josie tried to help, but ice on the laces defeated her and she lost interest again.
Matt finally got his boots off and headed in from the entrance foyer. "So how did you manage a wood fire in a German rental unit?"
Candace grinned. "Mom and Dad sent some of those scented candles and a videotape." The scent of fire and the crackle of burning wood turned out to be just that, candles labeled as Yule Log, and a video playing on the monitor.
Josie giggled at the expression on his face. "S'prise!" The coffee table was covered with snacks. Whitefish and salmon with cocktail and tartar sauces, chicken and venison in barbecue sauce, veggies and chips with their own dips, cheese and local sausage with spicy mustard.
Candace grinned again as she leaned up to nuzzle his cheek. "This was the sort of thing we always did in my family once the kids were old enough. Games and stories until the last ten minutes, and then watch the countdown to midnight. I figured that if she took a nap, one late night wouldn't hurt her. So we played Candyland, and I taught her checkers, and she's had some nibbles already along with more of *that book*. And now you're here, and the night is perfect."
"Checkers?"
"Well, she asked what a checkerboard pattern was, and one thing led to another. She's picking it up pretty fast. I'm having to work to beat her."
Josie pronounced her approval. "Like it. Don't have cards that won't do it right."
Matt gave her a serious look. "Well, then, maybe we'll have to play a game, too." Josie nodded eagerly. "But not until after I've had a chance to have some snacks."
"Okay! Try the cavvy-- caverr-- the fish eggs stuff now?"
Matt raised an eyebrow. "You bought caviar?"
"My folks sent a small tin. I've been saving it for a special occasion."
"And I certainly agree this counts."
-----------------------------------------
The official car dropped them off at a modest little holiday cottage on the grounds of Balmoral Castle, a two-story stone house with an attached garage and a nearby barn. Matt had barely gotten out when his young siblings surrounded him. "Matt! We're gonna see Nessie again!"
He smiled, ruffling fur and kneeling down for a gathered hug. "I know. That's why we're all here. Where's Mom and Dad?"
"They're inside. Mom's asleep. We had the coolest plane ride! It was all by ourselves, and we didn't have to wait in any airports or stand in lines!"
The hawk/cougar griffin who'd followed them outside chuckled. "Best way to travel. They even had a seat designed for me. I'm now officially spoiled."
Candace gave him a hug. "Taze! Good to see you again."
"Likewise. How's Josie?"
"Asleep at the moment, car rides will do that to her. She'll probably wake up soon, but for now we'll let her sleep."
The driver handed the keys off to Candace, since Matt was occupied. "This car will be at your disposal while you're here, Mrs. Ludlow. They will be sending cars for all of you at six for dinner with the Royals this evening, though."
"How are you --" Another car pulled up behind them.
"I'll be riding back with the rest of your off-site security detail now that you're on the Estate. Let us know if you want to visit somewhere else so we can arrange things for you, but we assumed you'd want to catch up with your family today."
Candace grinned. "I think you assumed correctly. What should we wear for dinner?"
"Business casual, I think you call it. This is not intended to be a formal dinner, after all. The little ones will be dining with George and Charlotte, so anything reasonable will be fine."
Matt stood up again, and turned to join the conversation with the triplets clustered around him. "I take it that Prince William and Princess Kate will be there, then?"
"That is correct, Captain. They'll all be involved in the ceremony. Your sister will be concealed with several other otter kits of her age as an entourage for the new Duchess, while Mr. Klim will be taking the center of attention for now. But that's for tonight. For now, we've taken the liberty of delivering luncheon, so enjoy your afternoon."
* * * * * *
They were greeted at the entrance by Sir William. Selma grinned and demanded a hug. "Nessie says hi. Are we gonna be ne-go-she-atin' again tonight?"
"Just a little bit. The major event tonight is just going to be a quiet dinner so you can meet people." He turned to Matt and Candace. "I'm Sir William Pendragon, Captain. I've been the primary point of contact with your sister and Nessie so far."
Matt stared for a moment, then visibly shook himself and accepted the offered hand. "Matthew Ludlow, Sir William, my wife Candace, and our daughter Josephine. Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise. Welcome to Balmoral Castle. If you'll follow me...?"
Matt had looked things up when the invitation had first arrived. Although it was built to a style reminiscent of the late middle ages, Balmoral was more a palace than a true castle. Queen Victoria had had the original structures rebuilt in the 1850's; the interior was practically a museum dedicated to a century and a half of the British royal family, and Matt felt his innate sense for history tingling as they passed through rooms that had seen six reigning monarchs and their families. Even the children were quiet as they trooped through elaborately furnished rooms. Eventually they arrived at a double door along the side of a smaller dining room that was being set for dinner, and their guide knocked. "They're here, mum."
The room beyond was built to a more reasonable scale, and while still palatial, looked a bit more comfortable. The Royals looked very much like their photographs; a fifth adult, apparently the governess, was entertaining young George and Charlotte. Sir William announced them. "The Speaker for Duchess Nessie, Selma Ludlow, and her family. Her parents, Dr. Gary Ludlow and Diana Ludlow, her brothers Captain Matthew Ludlow, Nathan, and Lucas. Matthew's wife Candace and their daughter Josephine, and Peter Klim. Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, Prince-Consort Philip, Crown Prince William and Her Grace Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, Prince George, Princess Charlotte, and their governess Miss Beatrice Newell."
The visitors bowed. Gary spoke for all of them. "It's an honor to meet you, your Majesty."
Kate smiled to herself at those words, as if they'd triggered a memory. Elizabeth waved them all to the empty seats that were scattered among the occupied ones. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you all. Sir William has brought good reports, and my security people and yours concur." She smiled at the little ones. "Lucas, Nathan, why don't you go get acquainted with George and Charlotte for now. Selma, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to sit with us boring grown-ups for a few minutes."
The boys padded off to say hello, while Selma nodded. "Nessie said that was prolly gonna happen. Gotta spend time talking with the other pod leaders." Matthew chuckled, ignoring his mother's glare.
The Queen nodded to the little otter. "We'll make sure you have some time to play.� Childhood is precious, and we are not going to make you start working like a grown-up before you even start school. But we do need to have you spend at least a bit of time helping us talk to Nessie."
Selma nodded. "That's okay. She explained it to me. She's my friend, and friends gotta help each other out."
The Queen smiled. "That's good to know. Now, we've gotten the basic ideas settled, but we need to get down to brass tacks."
"Brass tacks?" Selma asked, confused. "Why do we need to talk about tacks?"
The Prince Consort smiled at her. "It's a saying, dear. It means we have to settle some of the details before we make her a Duchess officially."
"Oh! Okay" Selma's tail twitched, and her demeanor shifted as Nessie spoke directly. "Thank you. What details do we need to discuss?"
* * * * * *
Nessie and the Queen spent a good half hour hashing out the details while Sir William took notes and everyone else made suggestions. At the end, even Diana was grudgingly satisfied with the agreement. "And that should be that. Sir William, if you would be so kind as to inform them that we are ready for dinner?"
"Of course." He headed off while her grandson helped her to her feet.
The little ones were seated at a side table with Miss Newell presiding and two maids assisting. The adults were seated, apparently randomly, with the Queen and the Prince Consort facing each other from opposite ends of the table. "And business has been concluded. It is never a good idea to discuss business over dinner, in any event. It is bad for one's digestion."
"I would agree with that." Matthew added. He found his seat, and took a moment to look at the china. "Is this from Britannia?"
The Queen smiled. "It is, indeed. What did I tell you, Philip?"
"I should know better than to wager against you by now, dear."
"You don't *always* lose."
"Most of the time, though."
Diana gave her son a rather pained look. "Another ship obsession?"
"Hardly, Mom. Britannia was the royal yacht for quite a while before she was retired. I was planning to visit her at some point while I was stationed over here. There's a lot of history that took place on board her."
"Remind me to send him a VIP pass, Sir William. I think he'd appreciate it a lot more than most people."
"Of course, your Majesty."
Matt perked up. "Thank you, your Majesty! I'd like that very much."
"It's the least I can do for someone who recognizes her china pattern on sight." She smiled as the appetizers were brought out to excited and happy chirps from the young otters. "Shrimp cocktail, as you call it. In honor of our special guest today." She smiled indulgently at the happy youngsters. "How are you finding your assignment to Germany, Captain?"
"So far it has been an interesting new experience. There have been ups and downs, of course. And I suspect my immediate superior is a bit curious as to what this has all been about."
Candace chuckled. "You mean he's been miffed that he's not in the loop."
Elizabeth nodded. "You'll be free to tell him all about it next Monday, of course. That should make him somewhat happier."
Matthew gave her a relieved smile. "Thank you, your majesty."
She turned to the senior Ludlows to ask about the status of Project Mirror, and Taze took the opportunity to lean over and ask a question. "How'd you know that? The patterns all look the same to me." His crest feathers went up as Matt inhaled to start talking. "On second thought, I withdraw the question. I don't want to know after all."
Sir William joined in. "Now you've got me curious. Why not?"
The griffin chuckled. "When Matt gets that look in his eyes and the question involves a ship, he'll go into details that will both surprise you and probably bore you to tears. I think he's branched out."
"Branched out?"
"From his deep and encyclopedic knowledge of the Titanic."
This produced a puzzled frown. "Titanic. You mean that movie with the two illicit lovers on the sinking ship?" Pendragon asked.
"A Night to Remember was much better. Walter Lord used as many first hand accounts to write it as he could get. The DiCaprio version was too much Hollywood and not enough history." Matt responded with a slight snap.
Taze chuckled. "What? Not going to ease him into it with the first movie?"
Matt shook his head. "It's always better to go with the book. Movies always leave things out. It's not their fault, entirely, it's the nature of the medium." Matt answered, doing his best not to give in to his obsession. "Check libraries or ask the staff here to get you a copy. I'd loan you a copy, but I didn't bring one with me."
Pendragon gave him a bemused smile. "I see. I didn't realize it was based on a real event. It was more like Apollo 13 than Star Wars, I take it? I shall put that at the top of my list, you've piqued my curiosity."
Matt gave the young man a sidelong look. Something about that admission seemed... odd. "I'd definitely recommend it. Lord did an excellent job collecting and collating it all."
"I'll send you a letter when I finish it. You remind me of a friend of mine."
* * * * * *
Matt frowned to himself as he got ready for bed. Candace couldn't help but notice his uncharacteristic mood. "What's bothering you this time? It's not Mama Wolf, I hope."
He shook his head. "No, it's Sir William. There's something about the way he was speaking, the way he was talking about the Titanic. It was like he thought it was just some fanciful movie, and I can't believe someone of his obvious intelligence would be so unaware of it." He sighed, "Like a fish out of water. Taze didn't catch it, but there was just something off. And I kept expecting to see a sword at his side."
"Well, he is a knight. Must be your history-sense telling you something. What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. If he's this close to the Queen, they must have vetted him thoroughly. She obviously trusts him, and he doesn't set off anything twitchy with my instincts... but if he does send me a letter, I am going to try to maintain the correspondence."
Candace chuckled. "What? Hoping to turn him into a fellow Titanic fan?"
Matt paused, considering the question, and then shook his head, "No. No, I doubt he'll be that interested. It's more like I need to get him caught up on things. Fill in some holes in his knowledge." He paused again. "And I have no idea why I think he needs that."
"Dear, I know you. Something's tickling your subconscious, and it'll sort itself out sooner or later. Now get your tail over here, this bed has insufficient otterage."
"Yes, dear. Your wish is my command." He grinned. "And vice versa, now that I think about it."
* * * * * *
"Jack! How do you feel about a run up to Scotland tomorrow?"
John Harrison glared at his boss for using the nickname. He'd never gone by Jack before the Event, but afterwards... well, he supposed it was inevitable after becoming a rabbit changeling. "Wasn't expecting to. What's up?"
"We're not sure. We got an official notice that the Queen was going to be giving a speech Friday, with the usual invitation to send a reporter to cover it. The normal form, but it's unusual timing."
"Yeah, it is. Isn't this her vacation time?"
"It is that. She's usually out of the public eye for July and August. I double-checked, and she's been up at Balmoral since the third, typical summer break. There's nothing weird going on - well, no weirder than usual these days - but we did find one thing out. She's been gathering up local changeling youngsters and their families and kitting them out for whatever it is. And no, they don't have any details either."
"And you thought of me, so we'll look good if it's something changeling-related?"
"Partly that. Partly that if it *is* something major, I can trust you to do a good job with it. When they have her send a message with one of these things, it tends to be an important one. And this is on awfully short notice. If it *isn't* important, why the rush?"
"True... okay, Frank, I'll do it. But I want Josh and his team for the camera crew."
"No problem, already gave 'em the word to be ready. Got hotel reservations in process, you'll have them by the time you get to Inverness."
"Where's the speech going to be? Balmoral?"
"Someplace called Urquhart Castle, out on Loch Ness."
Hare and human stared at each other. "You don't suppose...?"
* * * * * *
Friday, 20 July 2018`
They arrived absurdly early by the standards of normal people, but normal guests didn't need to have security check out their equipment and truck before they were allowed on site. Workmen were there already as well, setting up stands and a podium for the dignitaries down at the water's edge. Jack and Josh just exchanged glances and continued setting up, making sure the links were talking properly to London (an ongoing and steadily worsening problem since the Event) and setting up the establishing shots. When the sun was properly up, he did some background pieces about the castle's history as they waited for the arrival of the Royals. You never knew when something like that would turn out to be useful, after all.
The locals started arriving about nine in the morning, families with changeling kids. "Is it my imagination, Josh, or are they all water types?"
His cameraman zoomed in on them. "Yeah, looks like. Otters, water rats, a couple seals."
"Water rat? You mean that funny-looking mouse?"
Josh nodded. "Yep. Water voles, officially. And a beaver, too."
"What about the horse?"
"With a green mane? That's no horse, that's a kelpie."
John blinked. "A what, now?"
"Mythical beast. Looks like a horse, but aquatic. Supposed to lure people to ride it and then drown them. Personally, with what we know now? I bet they were just defending themselves."
"True. I doubt they'd let a dangerous Changeling near the Queen. What are they wearing? I don't recognize the tartan."
"Neither do I. 'Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice...'"
"This might be more interesting than I thought."
* * * * * *
The early morning clouds broke up as the morning went on, the day turning sunny if a bit on the cool side. Jack and the other media outlets were towards the back, with good views of the stands and the loch beyond. He nodded to his colleagues at BBC and ABC while they waited for things to start. Josh started as an official car pulled up and the occupant got out to walk down to the lakefront stands. "Jack, that's the Prime Minister!"
Harrison looked over, startled. "They didn't mention anything about her being here in the press invite, Josh. What the hey is going on?"
"You've got me. This is getting very interesting, indeed."
"So who all have you spotted?"
"The PM, Mundell of course, and I think that's Fowler. Why would the Lord Speaker be here?"
"No idea. Who's the griffon?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Never saw him before. There seems to be a fair number of diplomats in the audience - I recognize our ambassador - and some local dignitaries if our colleagues from the Times are correct"
The Queen was the last dignitary to arrive. She made her way to her seat and then everyone else stood for the national anthem. May took the podium for the opening remarks. She got down to the substance of her speech after only a few minutes of platitudes. "But I'm sure you're all wondering why you've been invited to be here today. To answer that question, I'm going to have to provide a little background. A few months ago, a young tourist met a very unusual person..."
They worked their way through the other politicians one at a time; David Mundell, the Secretary for Scotland; Baron Fowler, Lord Speaker of the House of Lords; the chief executive officer of the Scottish Canals Trust; and Nicola Sturgeon, First Minister of Scotland. All of them hinted at the identity of the guest of honor, but none of them actually said it outright, leaving the audience on the edge of their seats, and the press corps mostly in disbelief.
"And now, Her Majesty has graciously consented to introduce our guest of honor." Sturgeon looked as though she didn't believe what she was saying, and she happily surrendered the microphone as the Queen stood and came forward to the podium.
"Thank you, First Minister. I'm sure most of you have guessed by now just who we have invited to be today's featured speaker. Unfortunately, she - and yes, she is definitely female - is not able to give a speech herself, but can only communicate through a select few individuals who can understand her. She is an ancient being, by far the oldest living thing on Earth I am told, and generally keeps to herself. She would like to continue this tradition, and I expect all of you to respect her privacy going forward. She will not be available for interviews, I'm afraid. To enforce this, and since she is quite intelligent in spite of her inability to speak in any human tongue, the Government has agreed to my suggestion to grant her a life peerage, and the direct ownership of the eastern half of the Caledonian Canal System; Loch Oich, the Rivers Oich and Ness, and of course her primary habitat, Loch Ness, as her estate. I give you Duchess Nessie, Protector of the Caledonian Waters and of the aquatic changelings of the new Clan Ness." She turned to look at the water's edge, where the youngsters were waiting.
There was a dramatic pause, just long enough for people to wonder if this was all some elaborate practical joke, and then the plesiosaur was there, suddenly visible but already on the shingled beach as if she'd simply been awaiting her cue. The little ones cheered and clapped, even as their parents reacted in everything from wonder to near-panic at the sight of the plesiosaur sitting next to their kids. The politicians who hadn't been in the full loop simply stared, trying to act as if they knew it all along.
Breaking News signals went out to a dozen media desks as the cameras zoomed in and a dozen reporters started talking to their now-live audiences. The rabbit regained his composure faster than most. "This is John Harrison, live from Urquhart Castle in Scotland, where Queen Elizabeth has just revealed the existence of the actual Loch Ness monster - and granted her the title of Duchess. As you can see, she's some kind of plesiosaurus - we'll have to get the scientists in to identify her actual species, I expect - just as some of the cryptozoologists suspected she might be. They haven't provided many details yet, but... oh, good, they're passing out information packets right now. Let's see... her full official title is Nessie, Duchess of Caledonia, and she's also the Chief of Clan Ness... The new tartan is a mix of her own colors, and blue and white representing the waters...
* * * * * *
"Have a seat, Ludlow."
"Thank you, sir." Matt took a chair and waited expectantly. "I assume you've seen the news reports?"
"I have. Caught you in the background of one of the camera shots, so don't try to tell me you were somewhere else."
"Of course not, sir."
"I take it that you know whoever it is that can talk to Nessie. Fill me in."
"The griffin, Sir Peter? He's a family friend. He's not the one who can talk to her, but I'm not at liberty to divulge that bit of information yet. It's one of the kits, though. They're keeping quiet about it until they're of age."
"So why the rigamarole about making her a duchess, then? Protected species, I could understand."
Oh, she's quite intelligent, sir. I understand that she initiated the contact with the Brits to enlist their help in maintaining her privacy."
"So what do they get out of it?"
"Prestige, tourism, points with the Green faction. And access to her assistance in duplicating her stealth ability."
Banks perked up at that. "Stealth? What kind of stealth?"
"Pretty powerful. I experienced it myself. I actually could tell that there was something odd going on when she was hiding herself, but only if I concentrated. It was like a blind spot in the water where she was. You tend to skip over it unless you're actively trying to pay attention."
"Huh. It would explain how nobody found her all these years, wouldn't it?"
"Certainly wouldn't have hurt."
"You sure she's safe?"
"Candle had a chance to get up close to her. She assures me that Nessie's an honest-to-God plesiosaur, and definitely a piscivore." He paused at Banks' frown. "Fish-eater."
"I keep forgetting your wife is a biologist."
"And if she ate anybody now that she's come out in public, we could definitely deal with her, stealth field or not. Besides, she's taken an interest in the local aquatic kits. You've seen the pictures, haven't you?"
Banks grudgingly admitted to it. "The one where she's going all mother hen and hissing at the reporters when they rushed forward and scared the kids?"
"That's the one."
"They tell me she's volunteered to start a Guides branch for the water folk. What we call Scouts. If we find ourselves in England at some point, I'll probably have to enroll Josie on general principles."
Banks snorted a laugh in spite of himself. ""You go right ahead and do that. Keep me posted on anything you do find out, got it?"
"Anything that I'm allowed to, sir. With the senior members of both NSA and MI-5 taking an interest in things, I'm not about to rock any boats."
"I guess not. Dismissed."
* * * * * *
Banks stopped on his way home, took a spare phone from his pocket, and headed down a hiking path before dialing. It was picked up after three rings. "Yes?"
"Able Dog Zebra."
"Fox Yoke Sugar."
Banks relaxed slightly with the sign and countersign given. "I was right, our furry friend was involved in that business in Scotland."
"I hope you aren't calling to gloat."
"Of course not. I have some additional information. He says that the Canadian is a family friend. But I don't think that's the communications channel they were referring to."
"No?"
"No. I suspect he was chosen for the role *because* he was a family friend. He mentioned that the conduit is actually one of the kids. The picture that the press is so fond of, with the creature touching noses with the young otter?"
"Yes?"
"There's a very strong family resemblance to our friend. And yes, I can tell them apart."
"I thought his daughter was younger than that."
"She is. But he has some siblings much younger than he is. Apparently his parents were also transformed and started a second family after the Event."
"Interesting. We'll look into that."
"Carefully. NSA has taken a close interest in him, and now the Brits have as well, even if I'm wrong about his relationship to the link."
"Understood. Anything else?"
"Negative. Out." He ended the call and finished his walk.
* * * * * *
"Sir? We have an update from our contact in Hammerstein."
"Go ahead."
"He reports that the otter kit in that one picture is likely related to his water-mage. Says he can see a family resemblance, and they were all on vacation together in Scotland in May. He suspects that the kit is the actual contact with the lake monster."
"Is this the one in Project Mirror, or in the railroads?"
"Mirror. Shall we have our agents there keep an eye on them?"
"I think that would be a very good idea, yes."
* * * * * *
"Bon matin, Captain. How are things these days? All done with the tracas?"
Ludlow had seated himself in front of the big fish tank when he got the text. "I hope so, but I am not banking on it." He answered. "My gut also says I'm going to be back a few more times if certain pups have their way."
Devaux nodded at his emphasis on 'bank' but made no further comment on it. "Your daughter, or your sister?"
Matt shrugged. "Both, most likely. I think I'm going to be a diplomatic guard if certain little ones get their way."
The mouse chuckled. "The pistache do have their ways. But now that you've settled in, we're going to get you set up to use this network."
"Didn't you say that had to be done in person?"
"I did. Which is why I called. Gon' introduce your teacher. Reynard?"
The image split, the mouse shifting left and the right half now showing the image of a fox. "Bonjour, Capitaine."
"Bonjour, monsieur. Are you here in Europe?"
"Not yet, but I'll be returning soon. Expect me in about two weeks. It shouldn't take too long to teach you the necessary spells."
"All right, that shouldn't be an issue. Is this an NSA secret?"
Marie shook her head. "No. It's just that most folks can't learn the needed spells. If you want to use it for your duties, go right ahead. If you want to pass it on, that's fine as well, once you're experienced with it. It's far easier to teach magic in person, and one of the reasons is that someone should be there to shut it down in the event of a mistake."
Matt nodded. "Makes sense. M. Reynard, I'm looking forward to your arrival."
"Merci. You'll know it's me when I get there."
* * * * * *
Director Lowe had settled into her alternate office now that the weather was turning cooler and a working fireplace wasn't an invitation to heat exhaustion. She looked up as her name was called from that fire, and then her ears went back. "Coyote. What's gone wrong this time?"
"Now, now, Diviner. I get in touch with you for other reasons now and again."
"Mostly to invite me to drunken parties. There is a *reason* I don't drink any more."
The old trickster nodded, momentarily contrite. "Aye, I know. It doesn't mesh well with foretelling. But this is in a professional capacity, and with a little bit of luck there won't be a problem. I'd like to introduce you to one of my descendants."
The man was ancient, his face wrinkled and weatherbeaten, and wore the native clothing of one of the Sioux tribes. The wolf took in his regalia, and her eyes widened at the sight of a Second Armored Division patch among the more traditional decorations. "Wowakhang."�
He smiled. [You know our speech?]
[Among others. How may I help you, Shaman?]
[Coyote has told me of your power, and I would ask a question.]
[You fought with Patton?]
[I did.]
[Then you are owed a boon. My power is not always precise, but I will do what I can.]
[I am Red Falcon, and my father's great-grand-daughter Butterfly married a warrior of your people. Her third child was Changed when the world was renewed, becoming an otter. She has since married another warrior, originally of your people but who was changed as she was. Swimmer was raised in the traditions of our people, and has asked that her man be adopted into the tribe. Butterfly has reported that he has been on a spirit walk, and seconds her daughter's request.]
[This begins to sound familiar.]
[You know of him already?]
[I may. A captain in our army, who was healed by his transformation?]
[Yes. His name is Matthew.]
The wolf's eyes turned witchfire white as visions of the future danced before her. When she came back to the present, she was silent for a time. [Interesting.]
[Should we grant this request?]
[You may. It does not affect what will be, as far as I can tell. Whether you do or not, he will do great services for both our peoples. I have one request in return.]
[And what is that, Seeress?]
[Keep this conversation secret. He will do better if he does not know what is coming beforehand. He is young, and does not yet understand that all things pass in the fullness of time. If he knows aught of what is to come, it will fill his days with sorrow. And he has sorrows enough with his visions of the past.]
[I shall do as you ask, Seeress. Thank you.]
[It was my pleasure, Shaman. I wish you well.] She turned to Coyote again as the old man left the firelight. "And that goes for you, too. No telling the Captain about his future."
"Not to worry, I didn't catch most of that anyway. My Lakota's a few centuries out of date."
"Good. Make sure it stays that way."
* * * * * *
The doorbell rang just as they were sitting down to dinner. Matt grumbled as he pushed his chair back to answer it. "If that's Reynard, I'm going to ask why he didn't call ahead."
The moment he opened the door, a feral fox dashed through, ran to the table, and perched on his chair, to delighted giggles from Josie. "Doggie!"
Candace chuckled. "That's not a doggie. That's a fox."
Josie absorbed this information. "Why?"
"Because he's got pointy ears and a big bushy tail."
The fox wagged his brush at the compliment. "Merci, madame. Capitaine, if you could close the curtains?"
Matt stopped dead and stared at the talking animal. "Monsieur Reynard, I presume?"
"Mais oui. The curtains, sil vous plait?"
Matt shook himself and complied. When the view from outside was cut off, the fox shimmered and shifted to a full anthropomorphic form. Josie applauded. "Do again! Do again!"
"Later, young loutre. But dinner first, no?"
Matt nodded as he brought out another place setting. "Oui, monsieur. Dinner first, you must be hungry and tired from your travels. If only you had warned us you were coming tonight, we would have done something fancier."
Reynard grinned. "A bit, perhaps. I am avoiding certain parties while I set plans in motion. I think they suspect what I can do, but few humans know how to track a fox, and in that form I am never asked to prove my identity." He smiled at Matt's apology. "No, no, this is fine. It just needs one final touch..." He pulled a bottle of white wine out of nowhere. "An excellent Muscadet from the Loire Valley."
Matt sighed. "I'm afraid I don't drink. It is against my faith."
Candace interrupted. "But I will be glad to share it with you. Thank you for the gift."
"C'est dommage. I was not informed."
"No offense taken. Let's have dinner, and then you can show me how to make magic phone calls."
* * * * * *
Matt had listened to the explanation and taken notes while Reynard called up the first connection, and found himself face to face with a decidedly feminine otter. She smiled at him, flirting just a bit. "And this is our new American friend, Reynard? No one told me he was so handsome!" She laughed at the cough and expression Ludlow returned. She giggled. "Only teasing dear, I know you're married. A shame for me, but a boon for her." She laughed again. "I'm Undine."
Josie chose that moment to escape from her crib and come looking for a bedtime snack, and paused to stare at the faces in her fish tank. "My fish!"
Undine laughed, delighted by the little one. "She's a darling, Captain. I'm not going to steal your fish, bambina. We are just talking."
Ludlow smiled, "Grazie per alvero detto."
"It is only the truth, Matthew. We're busy, little one, and I don't think you're supposed to be having a snack right now. Can you be good and watch?"
Josie nodded and sat quietly as her father sat her on a chair. "My turn to give it a try?"
"Yes. We'll start with someone you know. Dreamweaver. She normally works with a fireplace rather than an aquarium, though, so *hangnis* instead of *wodr*." Reynard monitored it as Matt worked the spell, subvocalizing and ready to intervene if there was a mistake, but the otter made it through without a bobble and the mouse's face was soon floating beside Undine's.
Josie clapped and waved. "Hi! Do again, Daddy!"
Dreamweaver grinned. "Hello again, *pistache*. Gettin' her started on the magics early, Captain?"
"Not intentionally. She's mostly behaving, though, so I'm letting her watch."
Matt got more practice as more and more images were added to the aquarium. In addition to Undine and Dreamweaver, Reynard coached him through adding the blonde and winged Walkure, Poland's Hunter, and France's earth elemental Roche. Reynard called in the last contact, and the meeting began in earnest.
"Thank you, everyone," that last man began. "Dreamweaver, will you vouch for us?"
"I can and do. Captain Ludlow, these are all trusted agents and senior mages of various NATO and allied governments. Not that we will be asking you to divulge any secrets to them, of course. But we would like you to give us the details of your interaction with those street preachers in Belfast last spring."
Ludlow nodded. "Should I call my wife in as well?"
He shook his head. "Not just yet. Perhaps later if we need her viewpoint."
Matt frowned. "Have I met you, before? Your voice sounds familiar."
He chuckled. 'This is my true face. You met me in July at Balmoral. I don't generally go by Merlin right now."
"Merlin? The Merlin? L'morte d'Arthur's Merlin?"
"That I am, boy." He shifted briefly. "You might recognize me better this way."
"You were with Sir William... Wait. Is he really...?"
"Certes, he is. And before you ask, yes, his half-sister is likely still around as well. So we don't use certain names in case she's listening for them."
"Does Taze know? He'd have a field day with that if he knew."
"We told Sir Peter, yes. He's helping us adapt to the present day, and Wart's training him in proper swordplay, so it's a fair trade. Shall we get started?"
"Yes, sir. I don't know if all of you have been told, but this was back in May, when my family and I were first traveling here... "
* * * * * *
Candace finished up her side of the story, having been drawn into the discussion when she came out to retrieve Josie. "... and after a quick check by Officer O'Kelly, we continued on our way. I can understand why you're concerned, if they are using mind control to get people to agree with them. With that blocked, even Josie didn't believe them."
Hunter snorted. "She's a bright enough child, but..."
He was interrupted by Josie nodding her head. "'Member dat. Dumb deer."
"...but on the other hand... " He shook his head. "Moj Boze."
"Her preferred bedtime story is a late nineteenth century artillery manual. I have a feeling she'll be following in my footsteps."
Candace grinned. "You never know. She might go Navy." Matt stuck his tongue out at his wife. Josie giggled and made faces.
Hunter just shook his head again. "Good luck, Captain." He turned back to Merlin. "Precocious otters aside, what do you think? Is it her?"
Merlin shook his head. "It doesn't sound like her at all. She was always more skilled with illusion and misdirection, not mind control. She would trick you into doing something, not force you to. And she was never a druidess. Always quite fond of her creature comforts, she was. No, this is someone new."
Walkure frowned. "So, yet another player in the game. How many does this make?"
"Four at least. Reynard's cabal, Martin's opponent, the remnants of the Muslim fanatics, and this nature freak. Five if the Captain's bovine friend wasn't involved in one of these groups. I'll take this to the Director - the rest of you pass it on as needed." Dreamweaver glanced at Merlin's image. "You want to report to the Eldest, or should I?"
"I'll handle it."
"Merci. I think that concludes everything. Good job with the connections, Captain. You handled this without a bobble, first time out of the gate."
"Thank you, Doctor. If that's everything?"
A quick glance around the faces produced no dissents. Dreamweaver nodded. "Looks like it. Go ahead and shut down. I'll let you know if there's any further developments." The images started vanishing one by one as people broke the connections, and Candace put a finally-napping Josie to bed.
Reynard poured the last glass of wine and offered a toast. "To a successful experience."
"Thank you. I'd offer a place to sleep, but I'm afraid we don't have a guest room."
"No matter. I can sleep on the sofa in feral form, if it's not too much trouble."
"No trouble at all, I can find you a blanket if you want."
"That will be fine." He thought for a few minutes while sipping from his glass. "You are a very talented mage, you know. Still inexperienced, but that will be cured with a bit of time. Have you ever been to any of the painted caves?"
Matthew shook his head.�"Not yet. I plan on visiting the museums. I doubt they'd let me see the real deal."
"There are still some sites open to the public." He grinned. "And they don't know of all the caves."
"What are you suggesting? I can't very well go feral like you."
"You might be able to learn how. But you don't have to be feral to enter some of them. They just haven't been found yet. They are magical places, some of them. Literally."
"Sounds like an adventure."
"It would be, for the right people. You have a great respect for history, I've been told. I think you would appreciate them."
"I am sure I will."
The fox nodded. "Then we shall have to 'put it on the to-do list', as they say now. You might even be able to learn the Old Magicks."
"That would be fun. Personally, I am curious to see if I can, or if it's only open to those like you. Legends and myths."
He shrugged. "I don't see why that would matter. I wasn't yet a legend when *I* learned it. Let me know when you can take leave for a few days."
"Will do. Now let me get you that blanket and we can continue this over breakfast."
* * * * * *
21 December 2018
It was only a small dolmen, with none of the grandeur of Stonehenge or the sheer extent of the Bretagne lines; but it stood at a confluence of ley lines and to those who could sense these things, it was a tap into the mana generated by the Earth itself. She could sense, vaguely, that she was not the first to take advantage of this.
She'd spent the first summer after the Event tracing the lines to this place, an ancient habitation on Rathlin Island off the northern coast of Ireland. She had then sunk all her savings into buying land on the island before starting to spread her message. Six years later, the support of her followers had allowed her to buy up a fair fraction of the island, either directly owned by her or indirectly by her people, and it had already had only minimal electricity. Six years after the Event, she was ready to make it her domain entirely.
The exact moment of the winter solstice was approximately two hours before local midnight. Her followers were holding their own observations of the event all around the island and beyond, on their own, or mingled with others who sought to follow the ancient ways in spite of having no true knowledge. This year, though, she would claim the title of Archdruid by demonstrating her control - and rejection of - technology. The pretenders and charlatans would be exposed for what they were, and those who truly sought the ancient ways would join her when she proved herself. After all, the Goddess favored her. She'd given her a non-human form and rejuvenated her in the process, had She not?
She stood before the bonfire, at the head of the circle with her four most trusted lieutenants at the other points of the star. The language was ancient, the words given to her in a vision of the past. One by one, they said their parts and offered their sacrifices.
Aed, the vixen, slashed her arm and burned her blood with her own flames, casting the ashes into the bonfire.
Bran, the raven, slashed his palm and blew the blood into the fire as a red mist.
Fionnuala, the swan, mixed her blood with water and sent it into the bonfire where it hissed and popped as it boiled.
Dagda, the bull megaloceros, mixed his blood with earth and threw it into the fire.
Hers was the final and greatest sacrifice, her own heart's blood. She stabbed herself with a flint blade of the ancient pattern, coating it with her sacrifice. The wound healed behind the blade as she withdrew it, and she completed the ritual, casting the bloody knife into the bonfire and saying the final phrases.
The hare laughed as the magic rolled out from the central fire, all five of them sensing the subtle change in nature as it took effect. From their vantage point at the peak of the island's tallest hill, they watched as the remaining electric lights winked out one by one. Half an hour after they had cast it, it reached the East Lighthouse and the light went out. By midnight, all three lighthouses had gone dark, and the island was firmly in the grip of the Old Way. "You see? I am Rhiannon, and the true heiress to the Druidic Lore!"
The other four cheered their success. Dagda bowed to her. "We never doubted you, milady. What comes next?"
"The mortals will undoubtedly investigate..." She paused as the edge of the spell rolled over one of the freighters moving through the narrow passage of the North Channel and it, too, went dark. "They will investigate, but there is little they can do. The world was already changing, we merely sped up the process here, and I doubt that they can even be sure that we were involved. We will wait, and watch, and soon enough the entire world will have returned to the True Way."
* * * * * *
Matt smiled as he entered his home. He'd made it with ten minutes to spare - the German government had decreed that all vehicles were to be off the road from a half hour before local midnight until midnight Greenwich, just in case the annual New Year's hiccup affected cars or traffic signals. He'd had the evening watch, but turnover was early to allow the departing watchstanders time to travel. He'd made it home in time to celebrate New Year's with his family, and he had the next day off.
The first thing he noticed was the scent of wood smoke, the second was the sound of scampering paws and a cry of "Daddy!"
"What are you still doing up?" he asked her.
"Mama said tonight is holly day!"
Candace joined them. "She was good and had an extra nap after dinner. How was work?"
"Quiet enough. They still haven't figured out what happened in Northern Ireland, though, or why it happened early instead of at New Year's. At least the non-tech zone has stopped expanding. They're worried that it might jump or start moving again tonight, but it's not my immediate problem now. So far, the annual twitch seems to be minor." He hung up his winter service jacket and knocked the snow off his boots as he sat down on a bench by the door to untie them. Josie tried to help, but ice on the laces defeated her and she lost interest again.
Matt finally got his boots off and headed in from the entrance foyer. "So how did you manage a wood fire in a German rental unit?"
Candace grinned. "Mom and Dad sent some of those scented candles and a videotape." The scent of fire and the crackle of burning wood turned out to be just that, candles labeled as Yule Log, and a video playing on the monitor.
Josie giggled at the expression on his face. "S'prise!" The coffee table was covered with snacks. Whitefish and salmon with cocktail and tartar sauces, chicken and venison in barbecue sauce, veggies and chips with their own dips, cheese and local sausage with spicy mustard.
Candace grinned again as she leaned up to nuzzle his cheek. "This was the sort of thing we always did in my family once the kids were old enough. Games and stories until the last ten minutes, and then watch the countdown to midnight. I figured that if she took a nap, one late night wouldn't hurt her. So we played Candyland, and I taught her checkers, and she's had some nibbles already along with more of *that book*. And now you're here, and the night is perfect."
"Checkers?"
"Well, she asked what a checkerboard pattern was, and one thing led to another. She's picking it up pretty fast. I'm having to work to beat her."
Josie pronounced her approval. "Like it. Don't have cards that won't do it right."
Matt gave her a serious look. "Well, then, maybe we'll have to play a game, too." Josie nodded eagerly. "But not until after I've had a chance to have some snacks."
"Okay! Try the cavvy-- caverr-- the fish eggs stuff now?"
Matt raised an eyebrow. "You bought caviar?"
"My folks sent a small tin. I've been saving it for a special occasion."
"And I certainly agree this counts."
Matt and his family visit Scotland again and get involved in high-level shenanigans.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 120 x 78px
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