Deborah Kaya

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B7QFKJVH

Volume Four of "The Tammabukku Chronicles", KNIGHTS AND HIGH PRIESTESSES OF THE RED DRAGON, is officially published.

A century before Camelot was believed to exist, there was Tammabukku, a school of arcane knowledge in Roman Britain where the Tuatha de Danann came together to finish what they started long ago.

Volume Four of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES, the epic and groundbreaking, KNIGHTS AND HIGH PRIESTESSES OF THE RED DRAGON, is set against the collapse of Roman Britain and the bitter war between the Druids and Romans.

This volume is the epicenter of the quintet. The oath keepers, needing to unveil the mysteries at the root of the bizarre occurrences in all their lives and comprehend the role they play in an ancient prophecy, travel to fourth century Roman Britain when the renowned mystery school Tammabukku was at is glory.

As the book unfolds, the reader discovers the truth of Lamagir and Angharat, the primordial mother and father of their tribe. The core Tammabukku initiates learn the truth behind the sinister events that led to the demise of the school, which Lamagir and Angharat had intended to metamorphosis into what became known as King Arthur’s Camelot.

"Strange Lullabies" is the title song for the musical play in TIMELESS KEEPERS, Book Three of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. The Broadway show is the brainchild of protagonists David Pierson and Lia Bailey. The theme is how the system in modern society is failing children. It tells the story of the surge in childhood psychological and physical ailments like autism spectrum disorder, ADHD, bipolar disorder, the surge in food intolerance, diabetes and dependence on prescription medicine through electrifying pop, rock, rap and dream pop numbers.

A mystical silver cat appears as eight-year-old Beau Rivière sleeps. Beau has  lost his mother who was all he had in the world other than his Uncle Dane in New York City. He has just moved to New York from the Louisiana Bayous and is having a painful time adjusting. The silver cat is so familiar to him and he knows she was once his in a life that was quite different from the one he is now leading. The cat gives him a powerful sense of belonging and clarity, but who is she? Why does he hear the name Geneviève ?

A silver tabby walks into the bedroom and curls up beside me, purring. She rubs her face against my hand. The dream is so clear it makes me sit up. Only it wasn’t a dream and it isn’t a silver tabby. Lying beside me is a purring brown cat wearing a gold collar with pink roses. This cat isn’t one of Sphinx and Dane’s. Where did she come from? I stroke her and she rises and rubs my face over and over, purring louder. I then hear sounds at my bedroom door. Standing before me is the little boy whose pictures are on the mantle.

He rushes over to me. “Gwinveer was my kitty but Mommy and Daddy say she’s yours. I want her to be yours.” Not knowing how to respond, I just smile. He climbs on the bed beside me and we both stroke the cat. “Don’t be sad, Beau.”

“My mama died.”

“I’m sorry.” I notice his eyes are empathetic, as if he understands.

“You must be Griffin. Your mom and dad are downstairs, aren’t they?”

“Yep!” He takes my hand and pulls me up and leads me to his bedroom. The brown cat follows. “You finish my tower?” he asks, looking at the skyscraper I made.

I nod. “I hope you’re not mad.”

“I like it. We build together now, Beau.”

He empties a Lego container and pulls me down to the floor. I follow his lead because he’s kind of a willful little guy and something tells me that it’s best not to upset him. “What are we building?” I ask.

“A castle,” he replies and starts working on the foundation.

I have to work slowly because he’s small and it takes him longer to find and connect blocks but I like playing with Griffin. He’s a better builder than any two-year-old I’ve ever seen. I can’t say why, but being with him pleases me. Griffin scolds the kitty when she wants to lie precisely where we’re building, so I put her in my lap.

Dane comes in and smiles when he sees us playing. “I see you two hit it off.”

“We’re cool, Dane,” I smile.

Dane’s eyes go to the kitty. “David and Lia brought Guinevere all the way from England for you, Beau.”

I’m very happy about Guinevere but I keep thinking about the silver cat in the dream. There was a world inside my head that slipped away. Where did it go? David, Lia, and Griffin… Who are they? I love my uncles very much and wish I wasn’t causing them to worry. I don’t mean to. I just don’t feel like talking or eating. One of the other cats comes in the room and Guinevere chases her out with a hiss and a spit, making us laugh. “We know who the new alpha cat is,” Dane laughs. I’m trying to be myself again but I’m so tired. I’m afraid to sleep because when I do, the bad guys can get to me. It’s been worse since Mama died. It’s as if they’re gloating. I can’t talk about the bad guys with anyone. I wish I could.

Dane leaves, saying he’ll check on us again in a bit. Griffin is preoccupied building a turret so I walk out to the hallway to listen to the voices. I recognize David’s voice from his songs. The female voice must be Lia’s. It’s all so familiar and yet I can’t put my finger on it. They say Griffin and I should play a little longer because we’re such dear friends and the simplicity of a toddler is good for me. Griffin is my dear friend? Is that what I felt? I hear Sphinx saying he hopes Guinevere and Griffin will help heal me. Heal? How do you heal from your mama being taken from you? I’ll never see her again for the rest of my life.

In the debilitating summer of 2020, Lia travels back to 1916 to see Ambrose in Edwardian London. “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” is their song, and they have a rich and poignant history with not only that song, but the emotions it evokes. Whether as lovers, husband and wife, godfather and goddaughter or May-December dear friends, they remain sweethearts, stretching the word to its full dimension. 

Below is an excerpt from this extraordinary chapter.

Watching the day-to-day life in my little corner of London used to give me such pleasure, but the pervasive gloom, grief and panic have left London a city I barely recognize. The collective anguish is sometimes hard to bear when my heart is already so heavy. Eventually, this war has to end and hopefully my darling Gabriel and Béa will join me, but in the meantime, it is a greater battle to keep going than I let on to anyone.

When I try to meditate in the diminishing light of dusk, different thoughts keep rushing into my mind. She has left me with a hunger I cannot satisfy in any other way. Lia’s electromagnetic force field is nearly identical to Sophia’s—she is, after all, Sophia’s twin. I have long-since mastered my sexual urges and my desire for Lia goes far beyond mere carnality. We could have reached the oneness I desire, the cosmic oneness which I have not experienced since I was last with David in Foreness, fourteen years ago.

Geneviève leaps like a gazelle from the bed and into my lap. Since it is quiet outside with no air raids or bombs, she purrs contentedly as I scratch her under the neck. After a moment, she turns her head, hearing footsteps outside the door. Janith is coming to ask if I care for tea or digestif. Janith always knocks straightaway, however, but there is a pause. The doorknob turns and, slowly, the door opens. Could it be? Or am I having a repeat of the vision I had a few days ago when Lia was still here? Is that really Lia, standing in the doorway in a provocative slip of a dress, with a fire burning in her eyes? I put Geneviève on my chair and rush towards what I pray is not an apparition. I run my hands through her hair, down her neck and around her shoulders. “I am really here,” she tells me.

“Are you staying?” I ask, my fingertips tracing her warm and succulent mouth.

Her answer is to part her pink lips and allow my finger entrance. As I gently slide it in, every cell, every nerve, every atom of my body pulsates with passion. “To everything we desire,” she whispers, “my answer is yes.”

Yes! What word could be more beautiful when spoken in this context?

“If I hadn’t come back, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”

“And David? He is comfortable with this?”

“Completely.”

My heart is overjoyed! David was the reason she could not abandon herself, but at last, he is at peace with Lia and I sharing sacred intimacy. “How long has it been in your time since you left? For me, it has been only an hour, albeit a painfully long hour.”

“It’s been four years. Griffin is almost two. And now we are together again in 1916.”

Ecstatic, I take her in my arms and our mouths engage in a slow, sinuous dance of tongues. I should like to carry her to the bed this minute, I am more than ready, but I intend to savor every second and make it last as long as humanly possible. Taking her hands, I ask, “Shall we continue the dance, Princess? I do not have another bottle of Pernod Fils absinthe, but I do have a fine bottle of absinthe Lyonnaise from the 1890s.”

“Then what are we waiting for? I want this euphoria to last forever.”

The following preview is of Chapter XIII of TIMELESS KEEPERS, Volume Three of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07YRTNCJ7/

The room is dark and I’m relieved to be alone for a moment. Sitting on a nearby chair, I try to ground myself. I soon become aware that someone else is in the room with me. When that person strikes a match to light a cigarette, I’m thunderstruck to see Cressida Holdsworth.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Disturb me? Lots of things disturb me—liars, hypocrites, phonies, users...but you don’t disturb me.”

I feel so frigging awkward. Trying to smile, I say, “Well, I’ll be going so you can smoke your cigarette in peace.”

She holds out her box of Sobranie Black Russian’s. “Have one with me,” she says in what is more of an order than a request.

I don’t smoke, but between the Ecstasy and the booze, I have the desire to take one. When she sees me wavering, she lights another cigarette off hers and hands it to me. I know she knows who I am given her obsession with Dave, but introduce myself anyway because I don’t know what else to say.

“I saw you when I recorded ‘Chimera’ with Oblivion in London. You were coming to see your brother as I was leaving.”

“Yeah, I remember that day.” I recall seeing her leave the studio looking very upset and our eyes met for a moment.

“You probably have a low opinion of me given the negativity between myself and David. I never wanted it to become ugly. The media can turn a little disagreement into a war. I only have respect for your brother.”

“I judge people based on my own experience.”

“Those are the people I’m attracted to—those who don’t let others make their minds up for them.”

She has a different look tonight, wearing a wispy white dress that is sexy like hell, unlike the vampish clothes she usually wears, and lighter makeup. I avert my eyes to the window hoping she won’t read my thoughts. “How did you meet Kenzlie?”

“Kenzlie and I have mutual friends. She’s one of my closest pals—I love her. Kenzlie will be in the video for the first single on my upcoming album this fall. I think the song will be my best yet.”

I feel the effects of the cigarette and like it. Being tongue-tied, I stammer, “I um… look forward to hearing the song.”

“Do you?” she smiles in a disarming way. “It’s called ‘Make it Burn’.”

“That sounds hot.” Oh God, did I actually say that?

Leaning forward, she purrs, “Why don’t I give you a little teaser?”

 “Gotta finish the job

Gotta make it right

Gotta finish the job

Gotta make it bright

Light up the sky

Light up the night

Light up the sky

Light up the night

Make it burn”

“Someone hand me a fan!” I exclaim, feeling overcome with desire, “I’m burning up.” The way her cleavage and plump scarlet lips glisten... This isn’t the total siren look one normally associates with Cressida. Her dark brown hair is softer tonight and falls gently around her neck and those penetrating chestnut eyes blaze right through me, sending me a clear signal.

Licking her lips, she says, “I’ve had enough of this party. What do you say we go somewhere and have another drink?”

All hell will break loose with Dave if he finds out, but who’s he to criticize me? He’s married to Lia and time-travels to be with Ambrose, while Lia’s okay with it and goes back in time to see Ambrose herself. Their little ménage à trois is kinkier than my being attracted to a scorching hot woman Dave calls a poison bitch. I want to find out for myself what Cressida is all about. Sure, she wouldn’t be asking me to leave with her if I wasn’t Dave’s brother—I’m not an idiot—but I can handle Cressida. “So where did you have in mind for those drinks?”

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry Go to sleepy, little baby When you wake you shall have All the pretty little horses

The following preview is of Chapter XI of TIMELESS KEEPERS, Volume Three of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. This is one of our favorite chapters for many reasons, and not only because it is all about the birth of a baby. This is a very special baby, the rebirth of a missed Victorian gentleman who is beloved to many characters of the quintet.

Artwork by Sara Isabella Gabsy

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Deborah/dp/169280846X/

When Sphinx and Dane returned to New York after Griffin’s birthday party, Sphinx finished the film and sent it to us, complete with music. The last ten minutes are of his birthday party in the red velvet drawing room.

The party was the celebration we had hoped it would be. Our little guy was thrilled to be surrounded by everyone he loves. Sabre was on tour so he couldn’t be there and sent Griffin a birthday rap but Ffion attended. Sergei sat in with Oblivion for the song I wrote about our son’s first year, simply titled, “Griffin”. We hired a magician and used our home theatre for his performance. He is the best kid’s magician in England, but Griffin still busted him. Although he was entertained by the magician’s act, several times he tried forming the words to tell everyone what was behind the tricks, even pointing to illustrate how this was being done.

His cake was a colossal horse-shaped cake with chocolate buttercream icing and, at first, everyone deemed it too beautiful to eat. It was made by the best cake patisserie in Yorkshire. After the cake, Griffin wanted me to take him for a ride on Serge. Jericho, Philip and Tom saddled up their horses as well and accompanied us around the estate, and Abigail rode Shaman with Tom.

We helped the birthday boy open his many presents. By the time he was done, he was a little cranky from the overexcitement and needed a nap. Lia took him upstairs but he was reluctant to leave all the fun. I changed his nappy and Mom gave him his bottle but he still resisted sleep. He wanted to go back downstairs even though he was in dire need of a nap. Timothy volunteered to help, having had no shortage of experience with children. He brought Griffin into the quiet of the library and sang “All the Pretty Little Horses”. Fifteen minutes later, after singing the song six times, Timothy had fallen asleep, but Griffin was more awake than ever, and slid off Timothy’s lap, toddling back into the party. Fortunately, he was no longer cranky. When he came back into the drawing room where The Greatest Showman soundtrack was playing, he cut in on Tom dancing with Abigail. Tom faked chagrin while Abigail lovingly gathered Griffin in her arms. Abigail and Griffin soared across the room to “A Million Dreams”. Joanna, who had been sitting down, could no longer stay in her chair. Taking Dane’s hand, she joined the dance.

That evening, when Lia and I were sleeping, Mom took Griffin to the portal room. She held him in the egg and he savored being inside. Griffin, seeming to comprehend the egg is something one uses to travel, went, “vroom, vroom.”

Mom kissed him and asked, “Where do you want to go, Griffin?”

“I go bye-bye, Gamma.”

“The woods?” Mom asked.

Griffin shook his head no.

“The beach?” Mom tried.

Again, Griffin shook his head no.

“The city?” Mom guessed.

“No,” he replied, but this time he pointed up.

“Well, you’re in the right place, Griffin,” Mom told him.

Griffin smiled and said, “Buh nah now.” He then mumbled a string of words that only Mom could understand.

To become so fully one through ecstasy that there is no longer any distinction between two beings…how many lovers are capable of going there?

The following preview is of TIMELESS KEEPERS, Volume Three of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES, Chapter X, Foreness Point. In the chapter, protagonist David Pierson time travels once more to be with Ambrose de Ripariis. an Occultist who is his brother in spirit, dear friend and lover.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07YRTNCJ7/

Our soaked clothing hastens our pace back to the cottage where we quickly start a kitchen fire and make a trip to the well for more water. David fills the large cauldron and sets it to warm over the flames while I put more wood in the stove and set the kettle to boil. As I place the remaining Sally Lunn buns on the tray, David retrieves the butter, strawberry preserves and clotted cream from the icebox.

After starting another fire in the bedroom, we shed our damp clothes and put on our bathrobes. By the time we get back downstairs, the water is boiling. We are still chilly, thus, we drink several cups of tea and devour the buns. He checks the large cauldron over the stove. Declaring the water to be quite warm, he gathers several buckets and tells me, “Warm rag baths and massages. You and I are not going anywhere until this evening. We have enough Pease pudding left over for lunch.”

“Life could not be better, David. And, as you know, I do not say such things lightly. Those are the words of a man whose soul has at last found peace.”

While I spread my mother’s brown Provencal Boutis quilt in front of the bedroom fire which is now ablaze, David hangs soft rags and towels on the rack by the water buckets. Discarding our bathrobes, we hold each other on the quilt and bask in the warmth of the flames.

By and by, he adds lavender from the jar on the dresser to our warm water buckets and gently pushes me onto my back. Bathing each other is a primordial pleasure, a sublime act of intimacy. With lavish attention, he methodically works his way up from my toes to my neck, front and back, frequently dipping the cloth in the bucket so it remains at its warmest. Then he takes a toasty towel and wraps me inside. Next, it is my turn. Dipping the cloth in the other pail, I wring out the excess water and glide the rag slowly over every millimeter of his flesh, in some parts more slowly than others. After drying him in the other warm towel, I throw extra wood on the fire, knowing we will be a while, and press the length of my body next to his. We dissolve into a kiss.

Some time later, our bodies sated, our spirits one, we wrap ourselves in the lavender drenched quilt and drift into blissful torpor. This unity is what I have always sought. When the fire starts to wane, David adds another large log. I bring the sandalwood oil and we move to the bed for Chakra massages.

"What care I for my goose feather bed Wi' blankets strewn so comely-o? 

Tonight I lie in a wide open field In the arms of a raggle taggle gypsy-o!”

The following is an excerpt from “The Stone of Destiny”, Chapter VIII of the third book of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES, TIMELESS KEEPERS.

David and Lia have taken a trip to Ireland to heal after Chirurgus, the leader of their enemies, tried to destroy their marriage, an effort that landed David in the emergency room after a motorcycle accident.

They chose Ireland as Hibernia was their ancient home and are following in the footsteps of the Tuatha de Danann. In the first paragraph below, David and Lia are sitting at the Hill of Tlachtga (Hill of Ward) and discussing the spirits of the ancient past and the mantle they carry.

The remainder of this excerpt is set at a pub in Meath where David sits in with a band named Fanai. He and Lia are great fans of the Waterboys and David sings “Raggle Taggle Gypsy” and other Waterboys and traditional Irish songs with Fanai. The chapter is from Lia’s perspective and contains one of my favorite lines that describe her devotion to David.  “Raggle Taggle Gypsy” is about a young woman with a wild spirit who sneaks away from her husband, a Lord, at night to be with a poor gypsy man. Lia tells the lead singer of Fanai with a smile that in her case she has her Lord and her gypsy man in one. It is a simple enough statement, but when one knows Lia and David’s eternal love story, it is much more powerful. The untamed and anguished Vericus of ancient Britannia has at last merged into his higher self, David. And Lia, who was Talaith, the Druid priestess who was Vericus’ tormented beloved, now has that rarest of rarities, a complete man. But their road is not lined with roses. They have formidable enemies they must defeat.

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07YRTNCJ7

The spirits with us tonight are telling me their stories, which is ours as well. I’m hearing their voices as we speak. They violated us, abused us, took our earthly lives, but we went to the other dimension and came back. And every time we came back, we were stronger than the time before.

When we veer off the main road, our attention is drawn to a traditional pub called The Emerald Goat. Hearing “The Coast of Malabar” coming from inside, we make our decision to go in. The pub is half full and we sit at a table by the small space in the corner where a ragtag band is playing “Wild Rover”. David orders a Guinness which, naturally, makes us think of Gerald. When the waiter comes, we both order the salmon with an appetizer of potato soup.

The band is comprised of four men—two young, two middle-aged—and a woman with thick honey-blonde hair whose age is somewhere in-between. The woman plays the fiddle and the men the guitar, mandolin, flute, uilleann pipes and accordion. We learn their name is Fánai and they are spirited Celtic minstrels. The woman’s voice is pure and strong. David is right in his element, having told me on a number of occasions that his is a minstrel spirit.

Our dinner arrives as Fánai plays “She Moved through the Fair”. The darker-haired of the middle-aged men, the mandolin player, takes over the singing, with a voice made for the haunting ballad. When the waiter returns to remove our plates, David chats a bit and proudly announces, “I’m going to be a dad in five months!”

With a warm smile, the waiter exclaims, “Congratulations! I’m the father of three children myself. I’m sure the band will know the right song for such an occasion.”

“As long as it’s not ‘You’re Having My Baby’” I joke.

The waiter laughs. “I’m sure Fánai doesn’t play that song.”

The musicians are on a break and a few of them smile our way. “Actually, I was going to ask if they knew ‘Raggle Taggle Gypsy’. It’s one of our favorites.”

The waiter speaks with the mandolin player who shortly comes over with the singer and one of the younger men. David motions the waiter to bring everyone a round of whatever they’re drinking. “I hear congratulations are in order,” the mandolin player says, introducing himself and the others. “We know the song, alright. I take it you’re Waterboys fans?”

“You bet!” David replies. “When I blow this joint, I want my tribe to play ‘Fisherman’s Blues’ at my memorial.” David turns to me: “Light in my head and you in my arms… that’s all I need, Shekinah.”

“You belong with us alright!” the singer, Niamh, declares.

“Please sing ‘Raggle Taggle Gypsy’ and ‘Fisherman’s Blues’ with us, David,” the younger man suggests, “it would be our honor, and there’s no better dedication than singing the song to the lady yourself.”

David holds up his cast. “It’s a good thing you only asked me to sing.”

“Go ahead, Sweetie,” I urge. “I know you miss singing.”

“That’s true,” he replies, “though I can’t say I miss being a star. I guess it would be apropos since Lia and I have lain in a few wide open fields these past days.”

“But in my case,” I wink, “my husband is both my lord and my gypsy man.”

“We haven't spoke since you went away Comfortable silence is so overrated Why won't you ever say what you want to say? Even my phone misses your call, by the way.” 

                                            Harry Styles, “From the Dining Table”

This passage is from a scene in Chapter VI of TIMELESS KEEPERS, Volume III of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. Lia and David are having the worst fight of their marriage and, unbeknownst to them, at the middle of it is an ancient reptilian enemy. Lia is waiting to tell David she is pregnant with their first child, but things get worse by the day as she is pulled in by a strange novelist who has penned an even stranger book about Victorian era Occultists. Although the book is not particularly well-written, it is uncannily connected to the world of her past life as Cecilia Ley, when she was the magickal child of London’s Victorian occult circles.

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Deborah/dp/169280846X/

You’re not Chirurgus. Chirurgus tells me I have to keep working until I finish my job.

The following preview is of chapter five of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the recently published third volume of our quanum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

http://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07YRTNCJ7/

I feel my Daniel rage erupt when I think of the fate of Grayson Hall. Who was this strange Lev, and did he have anything to do with the fire? “Did Gabriel think that Lev might have been connected to what happened?”

Joanna nods. “Gabriel believed that the fire was deliberately set, but they couldn’t prove arson, despite our suspicions.”

“But who’d do such a despicable thing?” Lia asks. “There would have to be a motive.”

Visibly frustrated, Joanna says, “No Grayson gained anything by the fire that was for sure—it was only a devastating loss. All the money in the world could never replace Grayson Hall. It was the seat of our family for four centuries.”

“I heard they blamed it on using modern appliances with faulty wiring,” June comments.

“That theory was unsubstantiated,” Timothy replies. “I also heard that it was caused by a kerosene heater, but investigators found no evidence of an explosion.”

Joanna shakes her head. “There was no shortage of theories, but none of them could be proven. I remember Ralph, our valet, swearing that two of the other buildings were burning separately before the fire tore through the dry landscape and formed one conflagration. He said it was only as everyone started running outside that the fire spread, but because he was still awake when it started, he was positive that the manor house, carriage house and stables were burning separately before the three fires turned into one. The stable manager freed all the horses in the nick of time. My horse was found several kilometers past Thornton-le-Dale.”

“I remember that the fire started in the middle of the night,” Timothy begins. “Our father shook Rosalie and me awake, and we couldn’t believe what we were seeing—it all seemed surreal. It was drier than usual that year, which didn’t help, but something didn’t add up. Father was also sure he saw the buildings burning separately.”

“I’ll go to my grave swearing that the fire was deliberately started,” Joanna solemnly states.

Since hearing about Lev, my mind has been racing, and the story has left me disconcerted. “The arsonist to whom you’re alluding is Lev, isn’t it?”

“Well, I believe it’s noteworthy that Lev disappeared that very night and was never heard from again,” Timothy replies. “It has stuck in my craw all these decades. A week before my father died, we spoke about this subject.”

“The investigation couldn’t prove a criminal act,” Joanna says with a tinge of bitterness.

Lia’s expression turns incredulous. “Wasn’t Lev’s disappearing on the same night enough to raise every eyebrow?”

“Not to mention that two people said they saw three fires burning separately before they spread,” June adds.

“They took all of that into account,” Joanna responds, “but at the end of the day, it’s about what they find, not what they sense.”

“What about Lev?” June asks. “Did they ever find him?”

“They tried for years,” Joanna answers, “but he was never found. All the other displaced members of the staff gave their statements—only Lev’s was missing. The stable manager chastised himself for not asking for more background information, but Lev was a mere stable hand. Papa told him that he was the one who should chastise himself for listening to me by not firing Lev when he wanted to, but the stable manager remained terribly remorseful the rest of his life.”

“It was a different world back then,” Timothy explains. “There was less fear of strangers. We had just come out of World War II. The stable manager wanted to help kids like Lev who were obviously alone in the world. Unfortunately, in this case, it seems his trust was misplaced.”

“And if Lev was guilty, then my trust was also misplaced,” Joanna adds, “because I insisted he was harmless when Papa wanted to fire him.” She sips her wine before continuing. “The night before the fire, Gabriel and I were walking in the garden, while Lev was watering. He glared at Gabriel from a distance, and when I saw that malevolent look, I remarked to Gabriel that his crush had gone too far, and I would have another talk with Papa. This time I wanted Lev dismissed. When we passed by the area where Lev was working, Gabriel tried to be cordial by mentioning what a splendid sunset it was. I’ll never forget how Lev replied. He said that some people are not good enough at birth to enjoy a sunset the way they would like to. He never looked up from what he was doing, but we could hear the intensity in his voice. Gabriel suggested that he take the rest of the night off, and the stable manager would never question Gabriel’s decision. Instead of being pleased, however, Lev said, ‘You’re not Chirurgus. Chirurgus tells me I have to keep working until I finish my job.’”

I shudder. “Chirurgus? That name sends a serious chill down my spine.”

“Mine, too, David,” Joanna commiserates. “Every time I think about that name I immediately want it out of my mind. I even told Gabriel I didn’t want to talk about it when he tried to bring the subject up. All of that surprises me, as I’m not usually that way.”

June quivers. “I don’t think Chirurgus is a word in any language for the Creator.”

Timothy gives a bitter chortle. “Lev was not religious. He refused to go to church on Sunday, claiming that God never did anything for him.”