Ok. I think I've re-written all I lost satisfactorally. Unforunatly something bad happens in the last paragraph...You have been warned. But, good news, I'm thinking there's only one or two more section snow to reach the end of this story. Yey!
Also, Lisa, thanks soooooo much for your detailed reveiws of my latest sections. It means alot to me, and certainly makes it worth writing for.
Moving right along, I present, another chapter:
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“ Hearts of wood, and hearts of stone, make no change if left alone… ”
The words trickled through Beauregard’s head, words from an ancient poem. He remembered it now, along with memories of happier days. Fishing with his father for the fur-covered fish that inhabited the lakes. Lakes now dried up, mud cracked, fish gone in a moment of Time. The poem, his mother had often read to him a leather bound book. The thick pages crackled as they turned. Beau would ask questions. His mother would softly shut the book, say, go to sleep Beau.
Beauregard stepped into the hall with firm stride. His hands shock, but his mind was clear. He held the Hearts in his hands.
“You can’t stop me,” Miss Nancy screamed. “You can’t.”
Robin pulled the chains tighter. Miss Nancy gasped air, and struggled against him. But she was tired, her energy spent in the fight. She grimaced at a pain from the Heart of Life. Then lay back, resting against the ivory railings that overlooked the cracked staircase and the hall below. Robin kept hold of the chains. Mrs Nancy glared at Beau, at the Hearts in his hands.
Another poem moved through Beau’s mind. “ Rainbow above, the rainbow high, more than a light in Reanbu sky. Energy of colour, bright and good, divided and poured into hearts of wood.” A nursery rhyme. It reminded Beau of others, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Humpty, Jack, and Jill. All children’s rhymes, but with a deeper meaning seen by few.
He’d asked of them, what do they mean? But his mother said, nonsense, nonsense is all. But Beau had believed in them in childish innocence. He’d known the hearts were real, and the rainbow more than a light against the Reanbu skylines. He’d believed the rainbow was created there, and the Konnekte’s placed under its protection.
Robin the Frog looked up into Beauregard’s face. “What do we do now?” he asked, his boyish features illuminated against an adult face.
“Watch,” Beauregard said. “Wait, and watch, and see.”
He gazed down to the Sacred Wooden Hearts in his hands. Each carved with intercrate carvings, ornamental. Yet more than decoration, the carvings fitted, like pieces of a puzzle, together into one. The coloured bark of the Heart of the Rainbow would fit against the hard inner wood of the Heart of Love.
“ The teller’s tell, the hearers here. An ode to the end draweth near. When light is gone, and dark will cover, remember hope in hearts given by Another.” Beau’s mother had never told him that rhyme. He’d read it from the book himself, labouring over each word that he didn’t understand. Light, dark. Draweth. What it meant, he didn’t know. Except now he did. The Hearts were they, the Rainbow was Another. He began to see it. They were a back up plan.
Beauregard held the Heart of Time in one hand, the Heart of Love in another. Then he brought them together, pressing one into the other. The carved crevices met and matched. The grooves of one joining the peaks of the other. Love is stronger than time. Time cannot destroy love. But love makes tie go away. A spark passed between them. Red, bright. And the gnarled ancient hearts began reforming in Beau’s hand. Old became young. The power of love changing time. Love seeing through ugliness, and breaking it away. And as love changed time, passing time made the love stronger. The hard wood changed. The sparkles of blue and red light glittered brighter.
Robin watched, his mouth parted slightly, his hands relaxing their grip of the cold chains.
Another poem, this one taught numbers. “ One, two, king of Reanbu. Two, three, carved from a tree. Three, four, guided by law. Four, five, making alive. Five, six, wooden, like sticks. Seven and eight, it will not abate. Eight and nine, put in a line. Nine, ten and ten, begins again.”
Miss Nancy’s eyes widened, then softened, then froze into the hardness of her heart. Her fists clenched. They could not take it away from her now she was so close.
A shiver ran through Beau’s thoughts, down his spine, along his arms and into his hands. A voice crowed in his brain, “I still have the Heart of the Head. Drop them, drop them now.”
Beau’s hands flinched open, the joined Heart of love and all time dropped to the floor, the Heart of the Rainbow skittered across the stone slabs to the edge of the staircase.
Robin felt the chain taunt in his hands, and rip away from him. He stumbled back. Mrs Nancy rose to her feet. “You are not done with me yet,” she said. “And I am not done with you.”
Robin ran towards her, she ran toward Beau. Beau fought her in his mind, and throw himself to the ground as she reached him. Mrs Nancy tripped, and went sprawling. She was up again before Beau, and the chains were swinging. Robin heard Beau shout, “Join the Hearts.” Robin turned towards the stairs, heard a clash of the chains behind. Robin dived for the Hearts, caught one in his hand, knocked the Heart of the Rainbow off the edge. It clattered down the steps, and fell into a crevice broken into the marble of the stair.
Robin turned and saw the chains come down. Miss Nancy stood over Beauregard. Robin’s eyes filled with tears and blind rage sadness and desperation. Miss Nancy came at him. He took the stairs in one leap.
Beau saw him go through thick vision, then all went black for him, and he felt himself falling towards a place of lights.
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