Part Four: Gargoyles is property of Disney and Buena Vista Productions and is used here solely for pleasure, not profit. Oz and Michael Scott, Laurie and Arthur Hawke, and minor characters copyright Carolynn Marie, 1997.

This is the conclusion to 'Blood and Chocolate'. Thank you to all who read it, and even more thanks to those who gave me feedback (the good, the bad, and the just plain ugly. Thankfully, there wasn't much of the last two but plenty of the first). To all of you out there who sometimes feel the need to howl ... :)

****

"You worry too much / You make yourself sad
You can't change fate / But don't feel so bad
Enjoy it while you can / It's just like the weather
So quit complaining brother . . . . . . .
No one lives forever!!

Let's have a party there's a full moon in the sky
It's the hour of the wolf and I don't want to die ..."
~ Oingo Boingo

****

Shrouded in gauze and semi-conscious under the sedatives, the bruised mass wheezed. But it was still Oz, Michael reminded himself. Beneath the swollen eyes and neck brace lay his brother's baby cheeks and ice-blue eyes. Most amazing of all, he wasn't dead. Bloody surprising, considering all the stupid stuff he had pulled.

The doctor hadn't believed Oz's medical report at first.

"...what's wrong with him? What WASN'T wrong with him? Low blood pressure and fast pulse. Possible neurological damage. The team swore he had a depressed skull fracture, comminuted fracture-not a clean break, his femur bone went right through the skin- and a multitude of other injuries, but I didn't find anything. Other than a strange wound on his forehead, everything looks fine. It's as if he healed by magic between the time of the accident and his arrival into my hands. From his rescuer's report, your brother was just a corpse, Mr. Scott. This boy shouldn't have lived. Cripes, I need a stiff drink."

That makes two of us, Michael thought.

His anger splintered as he sat at the end of the bed. Even after all the fights between them, he was actually afraid to wake his little brother. What if he did have brain damage? It would be his fault. Michael was the one who had brought Oz along to the bar that night.

"Oz?" he whispered, stroking the boy's cheek with a gloved hand. The singed eyelids flickered. "Cat got your tongue?"

The younger boy spat something onto the blanket. It was a hairball of bone and marmalade-colored fur. "Other way around," he said hoarsely, as if he wasn't used to speaking.

Michael's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

He sighed. "I wish I was. I thought this was just a weird nightmare, but I suddenly realized I was awake. It's like I'm dead ..." As his voice trailed off, his icy blue eyes turned up to him.

The same thought crossed Michael's mind. "Dead yet?" he asked. The same familiar joke.

Oz grinned through cracked lips. "Not yet." The same familiar response.

There was an awkward silence.

"Oz ... I don't know ... just wanted to say ... cripes, Oz." Michael's voice broke. "Oh, Oz, I'm so sorry."

"Don't," Oz whispered. "Michael. Stop it. It wasn't your fault. I stole the stuff and got into trouble. You only tried to get me out of it." He struggled to open his eyes wider, but they were too swollen. Michael averted his gaze to the plastic sheets and stared instead at his brother's arm and the IV needle stuck into the flesh. He looked back up in a hurry.

"You could have died," he whispered.

Oz shrugged. Or at least he tried to. The neck brace kept him bogged down. "I wanted some power and attention. And I got it in spades. It was like a right deadly high. You ... well, you don't have to tell Mum and Pa when they get back next week. Just say it was an auto accident. It'd be half the truth. That's what they put down on the accident form, anyway." He smiled, showing broken teeth.

"But it was my fault."

"Aw, that's not it, I just ...," Oz hesitated. "Sometimes, I guess I just feel like I have to prove that I'm just as tough as you are, to get your attention. You got a big rep at the bar that I got to live up to."

"And so you did this." Michael shook his head. Now it all made sense. "You know, there IS email."

Oz's eyes sparkled like the ice they resembled. "I always liked to be daring."

Michael laughed. "Remember when you were eight and told Mum you wanted to be a stunt person like in Indiana Jones?"

"-and I practiced the snake pit scene by climbing down the side of the house," Oz finished. He was laughing at this point. "Good thing that ol' bat Clutter had a green thumb. Her rose bushes were about the only thing that broke my fall. You were the one who found me and told Mum. You were always getting me into trouble.

"And yet, you were always getting me out of it, too."

He fell silent. In the background, the EKG bleeped softly.

"You promise if you have a problem, in the future, you'll ring me at the dorm?" Michael queried. "It's easier than sprouting fangs."

The frosty white in Oz's cheeks gave way to a rosy blush. "Sure. What if Kimmie's over?"

"I'll tell my girl to lemme alone for a quick chat with my kid brother." Michael stood up and ruffled his hair. "I guess the Scott brothers' infamy for biting will live on well, as long as you don't take any dates during the full moon." Oz blushed furiously again.

"Michael?"

He stopped and turned around. Oz looked half dead now, and Michael couldn't put his finger on exactly what his brother was feeling. The four-year age difference had buggered things up in the past, as Oz had entered adolescence just as Michael was making a quick exit, so they never could talk about some things. Their family never had a big bond.

Maybe now was the time.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." That one word managed to say everything.

Michael grinned and cocked his fingers as if shooting a gun. "No problem."

Oz watched him warily. "As long as they're not silver bullets," he muttered as he surrendered to sleep.

***

From the window ledge outside the hospital room, Una's glowing eyes narrowed as she smiled. So, she thought, the inner beast has finally been defeated. Something jabbed her, twice in quick succession, in the thigh. Frowning, she withdrew the iron box from her pocket. She eased the lid open and observed Epona's Tear from a safe distance.

The Tear stared back. Droplets formed on its chiseled surface.

"Oh, hush." She meant to sound stern, but her voice came out meek. One could never be too careful around unknown magick. "You're not sad, not if I know how your Race works." She snapped the lid closed and clicked the lock shut, ignoring the weakened cries of anger from within as she pocketed it.

Una dove from the ledge. She had to return to the shop. So much to do: treat Griff's wings, put the Tear in a safe place, and do something about that odd child. And, she reminded herself, she had company coming over.

***

"Now this was one of my favorite's as a hatchling." Leo took a dusty cage down from a top shelf. A wine-colored velvet cover hid the contents from view. "Our elder Circe showed me this shortly before her passing and right after Una was given the shop's deed. The place has always been passed down through the females of the line."

Leo had been showing the newcomers around the shop for half an hour. After the usual books and trinkets up front, he had led the group through the pantry to the back room where the darker, more powerful stuff lay in storage. Laurie loved the room. Smells, energy waves, auras ... feelings she couldn't even place. They all assaulted her the second she brushed past the curtain, all screaming for her attention, as if they recognized her as kin and were welcoming her to an informal family reunion.

"What?" Brooklyn asked skeptically. "A singing frog in a top hat?"

"Better." Leo lifted the cover from the cage. "Be careful. He gets nervous around strangers."

On a layer of newspaper bedding sat a bunny with creamy white fur, nose wiggling as it sniffed at the newcomers. Its groomed appearance seemed out of place in the dust and mess of the storage area.

"Uh, Bunnicula?" Brooklyn tried again.

Leo tapped the cage. "Benny, up!"

The bunny snapped a crisp salute like an old veteran suddenly remembering his drills.

"The rabbit listens better than you do, Brooklyn!" Lexington teased. "He doesn't bite, does he?"

The leonine gargoyle scowled. "You've been watching too many old Monty Python movies, boy. Benny, shake!" Leo stuck two fingers into the cage as the bunny offered its paw.

"This is interesting, but-"

"Benny, invert!"

There was a pop as the bunny imploded before their eyes.

Laurie gave a scream of laughter. "Sweet! It's a hat!"

And so it was. Benny had turned into a silky white top hat before their eyes.

"Circe had a bunch of animals around the place whenever we visited," Leo explained, stroking the hat along its brim. It shook and popped back into a bunny, which quickly raised his hind leg and scratched himself behind the ear. "She enchanted a few of them for our entertainment. I daresay, you would be amazed what else we have lying around here ..."

"Like what?" Laurie asked eagerly.

Leo looked impatient with her enthusiasm. "Books, wands, crystals... we had a time convincing the insurance company to register Lancelot's armor. The chain mail is hell on the cleaning bill. It's survived 1,500 years on the move and probably can't take another dusting without falling to pieces..."

The room's cheap lamp threw light across Laurie's rosy cheeks, emphasizing the eager gleam in her eyes. "It's just like a ... a science!" she said. "Unexplained science explained."

"Well, that's sorcery. Your magic comes from a different branch." Una's regal shadow appeared in the doorway. "Would you take Benny out of his cage for a bit, Leo? He hasn't had a chance to stretch his legs all day."

"How's Griff?" Broadway asked.

Her ears drooped. "Lying down. Sunrise is coming soon, so a little nap should do him some good."

"What about the monster?"

"It wasn't a monster," she said softly. "You must remember, Lexington, that we all have our inner demons. Oswald just happened to exorcise his literally, but we all do, to some extent." She cleared her throat and he blushed.

"Quite right, my dear," a silky rich voice said from behind them. The curtains parted to reveal the broad-shouldered shadow of a man. "Una, is it? The front door was open."

Laurie gawked. She'd seen David Xanatos' picture enough times in People to recognize the genuine article. What was the world's richest man doing in an out-of-the-way sorcery shop in midtown London? "I brought guests, I hope you don't mind. This is my wife and other half, Fox, and our son Alexander. Owen Burnett is my right-hand and Alexander's caretaker. I'm sorry we're late. Heathrow's traffic is hell."

Two strangers appeared behind him. The man held a baby in his arms. The woman had brilliant flame-colored hair and the slim form of a pro-athlete in her leather and denim. The stiff man with the flax-colored hair had pale sapphire eyes that washed over Laurie. She squirmed in discomfort. It felt as if in several seconds he'd seen everything that had happened in her entire life, and she didn't like it.

At the stiff's entrance, a burning sensation ran down her body like liquid fire. The artifacts gave a unanimous cheer, but the man's eyebrow only rose briefly.

He HEARD them.

Laurie didn't have time to react.

"Ah, our benefactor!" Una offered her hand and Mr. Xanatos kissed it like a modern day Casanova. Her cheeks reddened at the human's charm. "Leo, this is the kind human who helped us several years ago. Remember when we were behind on our payments-"

"Oh, yes. And we nearly had to foreclose." Leo clasped Mr. Xanatos' hand and shook it violently. "A pleasure. A true pleasure."

Mr. Xanatos smiled charmingly. "I believe you remember Goliath and Ms. Maza." A lithe woman stood next to a living monolith. Whenever the gargoyle breathed, the sigh came out deep and rhythmic like a lion's growl. It was no guess who Goliath was. Both gargoyle and woman looked so incredibly solemn that Laurie felt a twang of pity.

"I could have been in a lot more trouble," Laurie whispered to Lex, who nodded. "It could be worse."

"It gets worse, young lady." Arthur Hawke, Dad, giver-of-life (and possible taker, she mused) stood framed in the back doorway, blocking the only exit. Tie askew, vest unbuttoned, hair mussed, and nostrils flaring, he didn't look so meek anymore. "Una rung me and said she had a visitor that I might be interested in. I had no idea-" It was then he finally noticed Goliath and Mr. Xanatos. Stunned, he slumped into a convenient chair.

Una cleared her throat.

"Well! I do believe certain arrangements are in order. If you will follow me, please..."

After introductions, everyone clustered around the pantry table. Mr. Xanatos talked over business manners with Leo; Una panicked when she realized she was out of sugar and fresh bread; and Dad managed to only break three teacups before he was given a paper cup for his tea, which was promptly squished when he tripped headlong over Laurie's backpack. Griff eventually padded down the stairwell moaning for his aspirin. He looked hurt at the jolly party going on without him but was happy to see Dad. They seemed to be pals, for Griff caught him up in a great bear hug, crushing Dad's second paper cup.

The stiff, Owen, looked out of place among the diners. Laurie felt a general unease in his presence. The funniest thing was, she felt as if he was a living lie, like an actor in a play. But that didn't make much sense.

The Xanatos kid woke up wailing. Lex made a total idiot out of himself making 'googy faces', which entranced Alex before he took an avid interest in chewing on Owen's tie, to the man's distaste.

Over the commotion, Una managed to explain to the group all that had happened with the werewolf and of the young man responsible for its creation. She said that Oz's fast healing baffled the hospital orderlies (she puffed up with pride at this part). Dad seemed to be taking this conversation in stride, though he kept flashing Laurie some odd looks.

Leo got to his feet and waved for everyone's attention. "I would like to give thanks tonight," he said, "to Goliath's youngsters, though they've proved tonight they are more than capable of being adults, and their leader, Brooklyn. Without their help, we would have had a lot more on our hands, let me tell you. And to the young lady in our midst." Laurie blushed. "To Miss Laurie Hawke, who gives it as good as she gets. And to Arthur, who has managed to take all this so far without having a bleedin' eppy."

There were some laughs.

Alex stared at Laurie, pointed for Owen's benefit, and squealed. She noticed both Dad and Owen acted quite tense around each other, the first sign of emotion both men had shown since the conversation started.

"You said you knew Xanatos?" Brooklyn asked.

Leo cleared his throat. "The economy wasn't faring too well some eight years ago and we were in great danger of bankruptcy. It got to the point that we had to part with a treasured clan heirloom."

"The Grimorum Archanorum." Una passed around more scones. Laurie drizzled butter on hers and inhaled it. She loved raisin scones. "Our ancestors had gotten hold of it sometime in the last century and we kept it until the auction block claimed it. Mr. Xanatos' generous price dug us out of a very deep hole, if I may say so, sir.

"And before you object, Goliath," she added, "yes, I know how odd it is to have a precious Scottish treasure in English hands."

"Obliged, Una," Xanatos said, "though I would have reacted differently if I had known I was buying from gargoyles at the time. It would have saved me some construction bills on Wyvern. Kidding, Goliath."

"Well, what will you do now?" Griff popped more aspirin into his mouth and chewed.

Fox answered. "We should be heading back. David, don't you have a meeting with the IRS first thing this morning?"

He flinched.

"I guess I'll be staying here," Laurie volunteered. Everyone stared, but she just stared back. "Well, what else am I supposed to do? I got nine more months of school, and I don't want to be spending it in an empty apartment. Dad isn't coming home for another two weeks, and then he'll only sleep at home. You know how he practically lives on campus, Una."

"Good idea," Elisa Maza said. As she passed Laurie's chair, she whispered, "Stay out of trouble, kid. You're lucky the Trio wouldn't make good witnesses in court." The detective's tone sounded forgiving enough. Laurie felt herself blushing furiously again.

"Nice driving," Lex commented as the Trio passed. The other two grinned as they left, followed closely by Goliath and the Xanatos'. Dad jumped as Owen shook his hand stiffly, but he relented and tightened his own grip.

"What was that all about?" Laurie asked as the group left.

"Owen and I go back aways," her father answered. He sounded nonchalant, but a muscle began to work itself away in his neck.

***

An hour later, Dad finally excused himself from the table, pleading an enormous workload that morning. Laurie brushed aside a curtain and was surprised to see the sky tinged with pink and shots of gold.

"Guess this means I get the guest room with the big-screen, huh, Dad?" she asked.

He gave her another funny look. "I'm still debating on what to do with you."

"Come off it, Arthur," Leo groaned. "She doesn't see enough of you as it is."

"Yeah," Laurie added, and then, for good measure, "I could be having a wild keg party, but I decided to visit you instead. That says something about family commitment, doesn't it?"

He sighed, sounding annoyed. "Just like your mother. Get your coat. I suppose this means a few phone calls to your professors."

"Teachers, Dad. That's what we call them in the States-"

"Yes, yes. Now shoo."

Right before they left, Una pressed a funny book into her hands. It was leather-bound, its title stamped in a curly gold script which read Faeries Among Us. Laurie opened her mouth to refuse, but Una only pressed a finger to her own lips.

"Your father is a bit bull-headed, sometimes, so I thought I should be the one to give this to you," Una whispered impishly. There was a devilish gleam in her aged eyes. "Mr. Burnett wanted me to give it to you." She grabbed Laurie's hand, which had been stroking the supple leather, and curled it firmly around the torn binding. "Don't open it until it's ready."

She snorted. "And when'll I be ready?"

The elderly gargoyle's tone dropped several degrees. "I didn't say YOU," she added fiercely, as if reprimanding a trouble-making hatchling. "I said IT. The book will let you know."

Laurie almost made a joke, but Una's stern expression made her swallow her tongue. It was probably for the best, she reminded herself. After all, it wasn't a good idea to piss off anything that could twist you into a pretzel, given the opportunity.

***

"I don't see why Goliath couldn't have told me about it." Angela curled her legs beneath herself. She flipped her hair over one side of her neck and began to brush it. "A whole night in London and me stuck here."

Brooklyn furrowed his brow as he pounded the TV clicker. "Hey, you were the one who chose to go visit Demona. Even Hudson was annoyed at missing in on the action, but he went to Jeffrey's and-why won't this damn thing work?" He growled. "Hey, Broadway, pass the Doritos?"

Lex ignored them as he typed in his password. There was a prolonged pause, then the three blessed mechanic words: 'You've got mail'. There wasn't much, he noted; a blurb for some tropical vacation, two emails from chat room pals, and ... he raised an eyebrow at the last address. Curious, he clicked on it:

Subject: Cheery-o!
Date: 9/24/96
From: Ahawke@Dorsetlink.uk.net
To: CyberLex@aol.com

Cheers, Lex!

Leo had the clan's email address in case he ever needed to contact Goliath, and Dad just got his laptop set up, so I got interested and thought I'd email. I just wanted to apologize to you for all the trouble I caused, including the robbery. To be honest, I think I did it all in hopes I'd get caught and then Dad would have to come home from work, but I did it wrong and I got a lot of people in trouble, including you. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have gotten in deep with your clan for going bonkers and catching me. If you don't want to speak to me again, that's okay. I'd understand why you're pissed. There, how'd I do?

Anyway, in case you guys were interested, there were some weird articles in the papers. This one's from the London Times, front page (right beneath the header! Whee!)

"After a fierce controversy by government officials and a futile investigation by London police, the recent case involving a wolf stalking the city's avenues last week has come to a grinding halt.
"London police were stunned by the recent attacks of an animal believed to have escaped from the London Zoo, which has been implicated in the injuries of a Buckingham Palace Guard and a London woman. Both are receiving treatment and are expecting a full recovery.
No other leads have turned up in the case, causing fingers to be pointed at investigators. "We were in shock," said Detective Jim Bullock, one of the principal investigators on the case. "When you're told you're not doing your job, it hurts."
"A trial determining the London Zoo's liability in the case has been set for this coming December..."

It goes on for two columns and onto the third page, a total of four columns. That kid, Oz, is mentioned in a brief article buried on page 22 of the London Evening Standard. It doesn't look like he'll be linked with the whole thing. All the story said was he looked like the victim of a hit-and-run (how naked in a street is normal is beyond me, except on New Years but that's something else again). No word on our car; I'm not sure I want to tell Dad about that part, either. There's another story a few pages after that concerning the sudden appearance of winged figures in the night sky during the mess the werewolf caused, but other than a few environmentalists, nobody really gives a crap. Like I said, weird stuff.

Halloween in a month! Take care :) I'll be over here, celebrating Guy Fawkes. I think. I haven't been here in so long I can't even remember the customs. Sounds like a great beginning...

Laurie
 

He realized his mouth was hanging open so he shut it.

"Hey, Lex, what's up?" Brooklyn had lost interest in Dennis Miller Live and was now hanging over his rookery brother's shoulder. "I haven't seen you this enthralled since 'The Net' came out on HBO."

"Read this." Lex pushed the laptop towards Brooklyn. Broadway and Angela huddled around to read along with him.

"Wow," said Broadway finally. "I think we just gave all of Britain a big headache."

"What did you guys DO over there?" Angela demanded. Brooklyn sighed in answer, clutched his forehead, and sank back onto the couch.

Lex bit his lip. "Laurie's talk about wanting to make a change in how people saw her and everything ... that's sort of why I went through all that trouble to track her down." This was so embarrassingly stupid. "You know. So you guys would stop looking at me funny. I just wanted to ... to prove myself."

If looks could kill, he would have been fumigated at once. "Lex!" Angela cried. "What's wrong with you? You've never had to prove anything with us! You could've gotten hurt!"

"So you got decked by a Lazy-Boy. It doesn't change our opinion of you or anything." Broadway gave him a lighthearted noogie. "You're still our cyber-geek."

"So what now?"

Lex leaned back in his chair and flexed his hands. Well, all things considered, it had been an exhilarating vacation, and as Hudson would say, you couldn't keep a grudge forever. It simply wouldn't do as a warrior.

He clicked on the 'Reply' icon and grinned up at the others. "You never know," he said lightly. "A halfling thief could come in handy someday."
 

Epilogue:

"Griff! What are you doing?" Una shouted from the upstairs bedrooms, causing china on the parlor shelves to rattle. "Back in bed! Do I have to tell you a fifth time? Goodness gracious, are you TRYING to tear that wound open? Back in bed! Now!"

Leo chuckled and continued with the book shelving. He knew better than to get in the way of Una's mothering sessions. She'd be down shortly, if he knew her. Sure enough, his Love appeared a second later, golden hair ruffled and her snowy skin flushed as if the sun had burnt it.

"Do you know what he's doing?" she demanded. "Singing. He's got that stupid A-track of yours and he's singing. To the Beatles, yet! And that's not enough! He can't sing while lying in bed, no, no, no. He's got to stand up and dance around the room because he says he's too 'cooped up'. And then he goes tripping over your old trunk and rips open that tear in his wing again! I swear, that's his sire, Winston, coming out in him. His mother would never..." She stormed, muttering, into the kitchen and returned a second later with a cup of tea and a book. "... was always getting in trouble with Albus when he was a hatchling and now I know why."

She raised the teacup to her pursed lips and gulped. He watched her with detached interest.

"Aspirin?" he suggested innocently.

She glared at him, then lowered her teacup. "Griff will be needing it shortly. I have to sew up his wound again, that young fool. Where's my First Aid kit?"

"Storage room, third shelf." He reached for the book she had tossed next to the cash register so he could shelve it along with the others.

"No, not that one." She waved his arm away. "I was studying that one. I still have that blasted Tear to get rid of and I don't know how to do it."

"I don't suppose we can put it on permanent loan to the National Gallery?"

She waved her arm again. "Too dangerous. Any fool can steal it again." Una cupped her chin and took another nervous sip of tea. "It's most odd. I've been reading this and found an entire chapter on Epona." She flipped open her book to a gold-embossed page. "What was Arthur's second wife's name?"

"Cynthia, I believe. Why?"

"'... the Celtic moon and horse goddess," Una whispered from memory. "'To the Romans, she was Diana, Hecate, Luna, or Phoebe. The Greeks worshipped her as Artemis, Selene, or Cynthia.'"

His snout wrinkled, unsure of what she was getting at, and he told her so.

"I'm not sure myself," she admitted, sipping more of her tea. Her beautiful blue eyes flickered up at the moon reflected in the windowpane. It hung in the sky, swollen like a five-month belly. After the full moon three nights ago, it was already starting to wane. "But I wonder."

***

Owen stood before the Mirror, assessing its damage. The clever human craftsman had repaired its marred surface and sealed the cracks in the frame. But it was Ms. Hawke that had jump-started its magic through her explosion, he was sure of it. Puck didn't like Avalon's magic all that much now. Whenever he was in the presence of the very powerful kind, his head throbbed and his body tingled in discomfort. And his body was incredibly sore now, as if he had run a foot race from the New Jersey Turnpike to his office.

What the Illuminati could want with Titania's prized artifact now, Owen didn't truly care, as long as they took it from his sight.

He frowned, and the Puck in the Mirror solemnly returned it. "Interesting," the pale man murmured as he turned to leave Xanatos' office. What a funny, magical night it had been. He hadn't heard of Epona's Tear in several millennia, not since the Weird Sisters, melded in one body as a guise, had given it to the Celts.

"Very tricky, those three. Very tricky indeed." He turned off the lights and closed the door behind him.

In the Mirror's silver face, Puck only laughed.

The End
 

Autor's Note: After I finished writing Blood & Chocolate, I put it away for several months before editing. When I looked at it again, I was surprised. I had done minimal research for the project, yet I discovered that I had woven specific threads into the story which, later on, turned out to really exist in Celtic mythology.

For one thing, I had originally thought that Epona was a single goddess, yet in the story I wrote that she was the guise for the three Weird Sisters. During edits, I found that Epona was actually composed of three parts: the Virgin, the Mother, and the Crone. I had added that 'triplicity' aspect without realizing that was true. The scene with Leo and Benny the Bunny also turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Afterwards, I heard from a teacher that the Celts considered the rabbit to be one of the prime messengers of Faeryland. The Mirror, too, was a shocker: apparently, that bit about how the Fey create metal from pure moonlight was true (according to myth).

I had thought I had made this all up!

It is said (and I believe that many other writers, artists, poets, and musicians here will agree with me) that gifted artisans have a link with the land of Faery. That is, they have a Muse or spirit who inspires them with sudden bursts of creative energy out of nowhere, it seems. I'm beginning to wonder if, while writing this story, I did indeed have a connection to a higher source :)

Don't forget to review/vote! I appreciate it so much!