A Question of Justice

Glad you could join us for the next philosophical episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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They fairly ran through the Bowls of Death meadow, but even if they had flown through it, Elliot couldn’t have shut out visions of the terror Cassandra endured there at the rebel Spike’s bidding. So why did his thoughts take an unbidden fork in the road?

My love is alive today because Arturo killed Spike. I believe with all my heart that he deserved to die — but was it justice?

Might it have been better to incarcerate him for the rest of his life? Maybe they could have put him to work repairing all the damage he’d done. Maybe it would have brought the families whose lives he’d ruined a sense of satisfaction to see him serving their needs.

Entering the Freelands, Elliot witnessed rebuilding everywhere he looked.

It wouldn’t have undone the deaths he caused, but is it really better that he isn’t here to help set things right? Families mourn, and then they have to repair Spike’s devastation.

What might Cassandra think?

But right now, he needed to speak with someone else.

To be continued. . .

Previously, on Elliot’s Adventures ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Next time . . .

Pierce

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In his dream, Elliot reclined on a bed of rose petals in a field of jasmine. He could feel Cassandra’s kisses on his lips.

He woke on the floor of the bower in Fen to find her wiping the last of his regurgitated breakfast from his mouth. The scent of jasmine drifted in and gagged him. Rolling onto his side coughing more violently than the ancient wasp, he caught a flashing glint of brown surrounded by feathers in the doorway.

Shifting impatiently from foot to foot, Pierce, the hawk who’d brought them back, preened a chunk of glistening, ocher something from his shoulder, and fixed a smoldering one-eyed stare on Elliot.

Continue reading “Pierce”

Race to the Finish-Him-Off Line

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When Vernon came to, the buzzing in his brain swelled, seeming to fill the air with a fuzzy shadow that slowly took shape as his eyes fought to focus.

It was D’Arc.

Continue reading “Race to the Finish-Him-Off Line”

Fight to the Finish

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Spike jerked around so quickly, Vernon’s stinger sliced, but didn’t stab, and as he pulled back to strike again, Spike slashed out, drawing a searing cut across Vernon’s chest.

Continue reading “Fight to the Finish”

Honor-Bound

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Vernon turned to Cassandra. “Princess, you must be strong. Think of Elliot. I swear we will bring you home.”

“That’s so sweet,” Spike gushed, “isn’t it, Cassie? Still, you’ve gotta wonder why old Elli isn’t here himself. Hm. Maybe he’s smarter than he looked.”

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A Slippery Slope

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“Well if it isn’t Vernon the Valet-ison,” Spike sneered, reclining on a curved leaf, attended by an impossibly handsome young wasp. “I hafta admit, I didn’t expect her to send you. Arturo, bring our guest something to eat; he’s looking a little peak-ed. Or is it ‘piqued’?”

He looked Vernon up and down as the blushing Arturo, eyes downcast, sped off in the direction of the battered butterfly. “Sit,” Spike instructed, “let’s catch up.”

“I don’t have time to indulge you, Spike. Show me the Princess so I can report back to the Queen before she wonders what happened to me.”

Continue reading “A Slippery Slope”

Welcome to the D’Arc Side

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Mr. D’Arc met Vernon at the western edge of Fen as the sun began to slide down the sky.

“Nice to see you again, Brudder. We’ve missed you.”

“Just take me to Spike,” Vernon said. His gasp as they passed a violent attack on a hatching chrysalis caught Mr. D’Arc’s attention.

“Oh,” he sniggered, “de refreshments. Yes, indeed, we do make good use of mahnarcs. I told you dere would be hospitality.”

To be continued…

Previously, on Elliot’s Adventures ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Next time . . .

Marcel Pierre Clouseau

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“Cassandra!… Cassandra! Can you hear me? Where are you? Are you all right?… Cassandra!” Elliot charged over the mossy ground, first in one direction, then in another, frantically calling as the shadows stretched deeper into the woods and the eastern sky darkened to cobalt.

“Cassandra…” his hoarseness whispered away to nothing as he slumped to the ground and wept.

“Excusé moi?” a smoky voice rasped, “I cannot help but wondair eef you are een need of some kind of asseestance.”

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In the Light of Day

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“Why didn’t Quintessa tell me who my mother was?”

“Quin had sworn to keep you safe. If no one knew Persephone had a child, the rebels had no reason to return to the Deep Woods.”

“Your Magnificence,” Elliot wondered, “why did the rebels keep fighting? Why didn’t they just go back to their old lives?”

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Enduring Enemies

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“You’re the friend who told King Arnie that Lady Persephone had gone to the Deep Woods?” Elliot asked Queen Lilian with quiet respect.

“I am. We’ve been friends all our lives. When the Prince and I were children, we often played together while our parents talked about Kingdom business. As youths, we sat in their meetings to learn about being rulers. But I didn’t tell him everything — Persephone asked me not to tell him she was pregnant.”

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