To Walk Through a Dream Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven With Wavering Footsteps Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Stone Song Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three A Tale of Winter Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Destiny Inescapable Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Epilogue The Cycle's Continuing Beginnings Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Two Spirits Akin

[A/N: Stuff: My continuing thanks to Autumn Loweck for allowing me to play with her characters, her beautiful portrait of Clopin, and her enthusiasm at her receiving my stories and typing them up to post on her own page. She is fantastic! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! A few of the mangled bits of Victor Hugo's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" are currently the property of the former Disney Company now run by Michael Eisner. Word of warning: Best to read my other two stories, "To Walk through a Dream" and "With Wavering Footsteps" before reading this one, and hopefully you have read all of Shiri's stories before reading those, so that they will make sense. Caveat: Hey kids! Armageddon can be dangerous! Do not attempt to bring it about in you own home. (stolen from"Good Omens")] StoneSong By Reya Cil Chapter One The graveyard's mists swirled upwards slowly, almost as if threatening to engulf her. She swatted it away in annoyance and peered through the fog, trying to find the Court's entrance with her eyes. A flapping sound caught her attention and she turned to see an enormous black bird performing an odd little dance on the ground nearby. The poor thing was making a valiant effort to dispel the mist with it's wings, while simultaneously lifting up stones with it's beak and looking under them. Upon approaching, she realized that what it was searching for was a large gold-coloured beetle which, although it seemed oblivious to the bird, kept scuttling out of reach. As she watched, it scurried into an open tomb, then she realized the bird had stopped and was watching her. "Think you can clear the fog for me?" she asked it sarcastically. The mist vanished. The bird's eyes gazed steadily back into hers, and then she noticed that it had led her back to the entrance of the Court. "Marya?" She turned suddenly at a hand on her shoulder. Melisande was there, a worried look cast across her features. "What did you see?" she asked softly in an awed voice. "Nothing." Marya snapped. The three gypsies made their way through the graveyard to the main entrance of the Court of Miracles, Marya in the lead. Melisande whispered to her other companion, hoping that Marya would not hear. "I think she had another prophetic vision!" ~ Marya drummed her heels angrily against the battered trunk on which she was sitting. Now empty, it made a hollow sound. She looked down at the bag that held all her belongings in the middle of the tent and swore under her breath. She wanted to leave. She had to get out. This tribe seemed very kind, but she had to be on her own. She couldnÌt trust them. All gypsies were deceptive, herself included. So what held her back? Melisande had sensed her determination to leave and tried to convince her to put it off a while longer. Winter was coming soon, a young girl like herself shouldn't travel alone, she could go with one of the caravans in the spring, at least wait until the Feast of Fools... The thought struck her that maybe Melisande actually liked her, but she fought it back. She had a desperate need to do something. She needed to clear her mind. Impulsively, she picked up her belongings and slipped out, staying close to the walls and shadows. ~ There was a single crack of lightning and she was glad it was wet this autumn, when it was dry such tongues of light could set the brittle leaves afire. High in the towers of Notre Dame, the bells rang softly. Ten o'clock, Marya thought; she prided herself on being able to count and read a little, uncommon skills for a gypsy. She shivered in the night air, glad to be under the eaves, out of the rain. The weather seemed to disagree with her travel plans, and although this put her in a worse mood, it still did not make her inclined to go back. She paused at the outskirts of the city, pulling the cloak's hood up to keep her hair dry, then started off for the countryside but came to a halt when a hand grasped her arm and held her back. Chapter Two