Ethan Lloyd

and

the Talisman

of Table Mountain

"Numquam Fidete Equite

Capite Carens"

Chapter One: An Unexpected Visit

(July 1984, Madison, Wisconsin)

Griffin and Diana Lloyd, of number twelve, Jenifer Street, were the proud parents of a new-born boy. A string of blue balloons festooned the front porch of their bungalow along the banks of the Yahara River on a warm evening in late July. Diana's doctor had pronounced the baby to be "perfectly normal": eight pounds, nineteen inches long with blue eyes and a straggle of blonde hair on the top of his head. The boy's parents named him Ethan. When the new family came home, their neighbors trooped over to welcome Ethan to the neighborhood, bearing enough casseroles, cookies and salads to sustain Griffin and Diana for at least a week. Even Mungo, the Lloyds' three-year old cat, seemed pleased with the new arrival: after sniffing the baby carrier and its occupant, he settled into the armchair in the baby's room, purring contentedly.

Griffin Lloyd worked as a reference librarian in the art library at the state university across town. In his mid-twenties, he was lanky, with untidy blonde hair and a sharply-pointed chin. Most people found his intense green eyes striking. Diana was short but trim, with wavy, dark hair and deep blue eyes. She worked a few blocks away at the local grocery coop, where she managed the refrigerated and dairy section with energy and enthusiasm. In the eclectic (a word here meaning "made up of a variety of sorts and conditions of people") atmosphere of Madison, Ethan's parents also appeared "normal," if not perfectly so. And that was exactly the way they hoped to appear to their neighbors, colleagues and fellow citizens.

The Lloyds lived a quiet but comfortable life in their bungalow, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that someone would discover it. For Griffin and Diana were not what they appeared to be; terrible things had happened in their past, not so long ago. As they tried, and mostly succeeded, at blending in with their neighbors, they always worried that some day, in the most unexpected way, someone from that past would find them.

But on this pleasant summer evening, after the neighbors had drifted back to their homes, Griffin and Diana were entirely occupied with little Ethan. There was no reason for them to believe that strange news abroad in the world would soon reach their doorstep and awaken their fears. Diana had just finished nursing little Ethan and Griffin had prepared the baby's crib; they gently laid him down and Diana sang a quiet lullaby. Ethan was soon sound asleep.

"I can't believe that was so easy," whispered Griffin, as Diana switched off the light in the baby's room.

"Beginner's luck, I'm sure," Diana replied as they sat down on the little couch in the living room.

There was a loud crack from somewhere outside. Griffin stood up quickly and stared out the window into the darkness. A second crack followed.

"Leftover fireworks?" asked Diana, a hint of apprehension in her voice.

"Maybe, or perhaps a car backfiring," answered Griffin, but he didn't sound convinced.

The Lloyds noticed that Mungo had come running out of the baby's room and was now moving around the room warily.

"Mungo seems to think there's something more to it than that," said Diana.

"I think we'd better play it safe," her husband said, as he withdrew a wooden stick about a foot long from his pocket. Diana pulled a similar object out of her apron. Mungo was now standing staring at the front door; his hair had begun to stand on end.

After what seemed an eternity to the new parents, the doorbell rang. They looked at each other, each trying to stifle a rising sense of panic.

"Let's try to keep the wands ready but out of sight," whispered Griffin. "You go stand at Ethan's door."

As Diana moved back to the nursery, Griffin went to the door and slowly opened it. There in the circle of light on the steps stood a heavy-set older man with long dark hair, wearing a robe of shimmering purple. At his side was a woman, with curly gray hair, and an emerald cloak. Griffin's jaw dropped and he stood silent for a moment.

"Uncle Bertrand? Aunt Eilonwy?"

"None other," replied the man. "Now, are you going to stand there all night or let us in? We've tried not to attract any attention, but the longer we're out here in your yard the harder it will be!"

"Come in, come in!" Griffin responded. "It's all right, Diana, it's the Belangers!"

As the older couple swept into the living room, the woman spoke in an assertive, but slightly quavering voice. "Well you didn't think all of your relatives would miss your blessed event, did you? Congratulations to both of you! Are you quite well, Diana? and the child?" She gave Diana a warm hug.

"I'm just fine, Eilonwy. The baby's wonderful...he just fell asleep. But how did you know?"

"Well, Kaaterskill has its ways of knowing about the births of wizards, my dear," Uncle Bertrand said slyly. "But have no fear...only Flyte knows and we've come at his behest. "

"I suppose we should have realized this couldn't be kept entirely secret," said Griffin thoughtfully. "I wonder what else we may have overlooked. Oh well, sit down, do make yourselves comfortable!"

"Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" asked Diana, who had recovered sufficiently to act the part of a hostess. She added apologetically, "I'm afraid we don't have any pumpkin juice, more's the pity. Just can't be had from the muggle stores..."

When Diana had brought some tea and muffins from the kitchen, everyone settled into the chairs in the living room.

"Of course, we want you to get a good look at Ethan," began Diana, "but he'd just fallen asleep when you arrived. I hope you can wait until morning for that."

"Certainly, dear," Eilonwy replied. "We may be old but we still recall what it's like having a new-born to care for. Waking up with the baby's pretty much the same whether you're a witch or a muggle."

"Meanwhile," added Griffin, "why don't you catch us up on what's been going on in the world. We've done such a decent job of blending in here that we have no idea what's up amongst magic folk."

"Ah, we shall certainly do that," said Bertrand, "We also have a letter for you from Cyrus Flyte. But let's bring you up to date first."

"Why has Flyte written us?" asked Diana, a hint of eagerness in her voice. "Has something happened that changes our arrangement?"

"That I can't tell you," Bertrand explained. "Cyrus hasn't divulged the contents of the letter to us. Says it's for you two only...So let us do what we can to sum up the three years since you first decided to hide amongst the Muggles. You-Know-Who had nearly taken control of British wizardry, their Ministry seemed to be in disarray, and You-Know-Who's followers seemed well on their way to infiltrating our community, under the leadership of Hafgan. The Department of Magic lost a number of good people after you went underground. There was Quentin Margolies and the Eldredge brothers, ambushed while on duty. The entire Sturtevant family was foully murdered in Maine. It seemed the Death Eaters were ready to unleash their reign of terror on this side of the ocean."

"We were thankful that you at least were safe," interjected Aunt Eilonwy.

"To think that all that was happening while we were here, learning to be muggles, completely unaware," Griffin said quietly, almost to himself. "Perhaps we could have prevented some of these awful..."

"Come, come, Griffin dear," Eilonwy interrupted. "You know why Flyte was so ready to go along with your plan. If your whereabouts had been known, even had you tried to hide in our world, you would have been the Death Eaters' first targets in America. And had you been found, more than your own lives would have been at stake."

"What's more, my dear boy," added Uncle Bertrand. "You would have been subjected to unspeakable tortures until you broke and gave the Dark Lord what he sought or until death took you. And death would have been a welcome end, I'm afraid."

"I guess you're right, " Griffin reluctantly agreed. "Still, I'm glad we had no way to get news. It would have been nearly impossible to stay here, learning muggle ways, while our worst fears were coming true out there."

"But is this all in the past?" Diana asked. "You're referring to You-Know-Who in the past tense."

"Patience, dear, patience," Bertrand muttered as he resumed the story. "Now where were we? Ah yes, in the fall three years ago...that's when the Sturtevants were murdered. And then, on Halloween, a most curious thing occurred across the ocean. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named set out himself to kill two of Dumbledore's most loyal followers, James and Lily Potter."

"Potter...Potter," Griffin muttered. "That name sounds familiar. Why do I know that name?"

"Decent quidditch player, I understand, and absolutely opposed to the dark arts," continued Uncle Bertrand. "In any case, they had gone to great lengths to conceal themselves...not quite as great as you, of course, but their Secret Keeper betrayed them. You-Know-Who went to their house, killed Potter, then his wife, and then a strange thing happened. The Potters had a son, just over a year old at the time. For some reason, to make a clean sweep or perhaps just due to his evil nature, the Dark Lord cast a killing curse on the baby."

Griffin and Diana both visibly flinched as Bertrand said this. In his bedroom, little Ethan gurgled a bit, but didn't awaken. Diana moved closer to her husband and he put his arm around her.

"The monster...," Diana gasped.

"Yes. And his followers were no less cruel. Remember what I told you about the Sturtevants. They had four children, the youngest just two years. He alone escaped death, because he was with a babysitter. " Bertrand continued, "But you need not mourn young Harry Potter. For the Dark Lord's curse rebounded on him. The boy, orphaned though he was, remained unharmed, save for a rather unusual scar upon his forehead. You-Know-Who, on the other hand, apparently did not fare as well."

"Was he killed?" Griffin asked hopefully.

"Some think so," answered Bertrand, "but all we know is that he lost his form and, so it would seem, his powers. He vanished that night in the wreckage of the Potters' home and there has been no sign of him since."

"What became of that poor orphaned boy?" asked Diana.

"Ah, well, it seems his only living relatives were some Muggles," Eilonwy explained. "Dumbledore saw to it that he reached them. Beyond that, no one really knows. Strange that the most famous wizard of our age should be living amongst Muggles, unaware of all these troubles and his part in ending them."

And so the conversation left young Harry Potter, for Griffin was concerned with more pressing matters.

"So, with V-v-Vol-demort...gone or weakened or whatever," he asked haltingly, "what's become of his followers?"

The others all winced as he stuttered through the Dark Lord's name. Then Bertrand spoke again.

"At first, the Death Eaters were confused," Bertrand recalled. "But when it became clear that their leader had vanished, disarray reigned. Some surrendered, and of those many claimed to have worked for the Dark Lord only under duress, controlled by the Imperius curse. Others, as proud and cruel as their master, resolved to die rather than be taken. The British ministry saw to it that most received their wish, though at great cost. Many were condemned to Azkaban prison."

"And on this side of the ocean?" asked Diana.

"The story was much the same," continued Bertrand. "Of course, the Dark Lord had little more than a foothold here, especially after...the Table Mountain affair. But You-Know-Who's defeat in Britain seemed to put an end to the dark insurgents here. Hafgan's disappeared as completely as his dark master."

Bertrand nearly whispered the words "Table Mountain," but even so he saw that his nephew had closed his eyes and clenched his fists when he heard the words.

"There, there," Eilonwy said. "We know you'd rather not remember the horrors of that place. But if you must know, you two are nearly as famous amongst our people as Harry Potter--your bravery that day has become legend on this side of the Atlantic."

"But they don't know what really happened there," Griffin countered, an edge of bitterness in his voice. "We did nothing heroic...the fact that we survived was an accident, pure and simple. There was no reason we shouldn't have died...and no reason why one of the others shouldn't have made it home."

"Come now," Uncle Bertrand snorted, giving Griffin a stern look. "You may not know the reason for your survival, no one may know for certain yet. But believe me, Griffin, it was no accident. No one else had the skills to escape the disaster and find the way back with...well, you know what...to just the right person. And if someone else had gotten through, they would have taken It straight to the Department of Magic, and that would have been the greatest catastrophe of all."

"Bertrand's right, for a change," Eilonwy added, directing a wry smile at her husband. "Given what we knew, You-Know-Who would have seen that as a great victory. Who knows...the Potter incident might never have taken place, if he'd already added that weapon to his arsenal. And I believe that you two survived Table Mountain because your part in this story had not yet concluded."

Griffin stood up, walked to the window, and gazed into the dark night. "That may be so," he said after a long silence. "But your words are no more comfort to me than a centaur's prophecies."

The clock on the wall had just marked midnight. The company sat silent, as none knew what to say, when they were interrupted by baby Ethan, at first fussing then breaking out into a loud cry.

"The baby must be hungry," said Diana, rising and heading into the nursery. "I'll feed him. Griffin, why don't you show them into the guest room."

"At least your young son is paying attention to the essentials," chuckled Aunt Eilonwy. "It's been a long day. I'm afraid disapparating wears me out these days."

"We'll give you Flyte's letter in the morning," Bertrand said wearily. "When we've all had some rest."

While Diana nursed Ethan, the others prepared for bed. When she'd finished and Ethan was again asleep in his crib, the older couple had retired and Griffin was waiting for her in bed. He appeared to be deep in thought.

"Your aunt's right," Diana said, yawning. "Ethan's got his priorities straight, even if no one else in world does. A good meal, a clean diaper and he's snoring away again."

"Let's hope he gives us a chance to do the same," said Griffin, as they settled under the covers.

"Griffin...I want to get to sleep, too," Diana whispered. "But what a day! The neighbors were wonderful, especially the Abrams'. How Marion managed to organize everyone and bake that amazing cake, while dealing with her own newborn."

Marion Abrams, who lived next door with her husband Frank, had given birth to her first child just two weeks before Ethan was born.

"I was feeling so ready to be a good muggle mother," Diana sighed.

"I know just what you're going to say next," said her husband. "Then Bertrand and Eilonwy apparated onto our front lawn and next thing we know, here we are talking about Death Eaters and the Department and that whole world comes flooding back."

"You've got that right, dear," agreed Diana wistfully. "What do you suppose Flyte wants us to know?"

"I'm not sure," Griffin muttered through another yawn. "But I'm sure he knows what he's doing. I hadn't really thought about it, but I suppose he has ways of monitoring wizard births, even if the child's exact whereabouts aren't known."

"But does Flyte think this puts us in some kind of danger?" Diana asked. "From what they've said so far, it sounds unlikely."

"I'm sure they've lots more to tell us, but I can't think about it right now," Griffin said, and with that he gave Diana a kiss and turned out the bedside lamp. Within minutes, he noticed her snoring and soon he drifted into a restless sleep himself.

Some hours later, Griffin fell into a dream and found himself atop a flat, stony mountain. He felt he'd been there before. His dream was full of flashes of colored light amidst darkness, full of shadow that blotted out the stars and moon, of confused cries and, above all else, of a fear that seemed to smother his spirit where he stood. Vague figures appeared in the distance, then vanished, overtaken by a towering shadow. Someone he knew was nearby, speaking to him, but the shadow and purple lights filled his mind.

At last, he heard someone scream and he awoke to find himself in his bed on Jenifer Street, shivering in a cold sweat . He looked over to find Diana, trembling and staring wide-eyed at him.

"Did you just...," they both started to ask at once.

"I was on Table Mountain again," Griffin whispered. "I haven't had that dream in almost two years now. But it was so real...everything was just as it was then. And you were there, too..."

"I was there," said Diana slowly. "I just had the same dream, Griffin. And it's been almost three years since I've dreamt about that day."

Griffin was beginning to breathe easily again; he pulled the covers, which had been tossed to the bottom of the bed, back over them.

"I don't know what this all means," he said shakily. "But the important thing is that we're here, in Madison, and safe from everything that happened that night."

"I hope so," sighed Diana, as they snuggled together. "I really hope so, dear."

"Let's try to get some rest, now," yawned Griffin. "We're going to need it, I'm sure."

The rest of the night passed in uneventful sleep. The summer dawn was breaking around five, when Ethan woke them with a hungry cry.

"Your turn, dear," said Diana sleepily. "I left a bottle in the fridge last night." She watched him walk towards the kitchen, then listened as Griffin warmed the bottle and went in to feed Ethan. She drifted back to sleep with the sound of Griffin's baby talk in the back of her mind.

An hour or so later, she awoke again to the sound of Bertrand and Eilonwy stumbling around the house. She heard the banging of cupboard doors and the clattering of plates and cutlery. As Diana emerged from the bedroom, she interrupted an earnest, if confused, discussion of muggle devices for toasting bread and making coffee.

"I really do think that the water goes into this thing at the back, Bertrand," Eilonwy was saying. "Oh, Diana dear, good morning. I hope we didn't wake you, but I'm afraid your kitchen's got us a bit befuddled."

"Not to worry," Diana chuckled. "It's taken us three years to figure everything out, and we still worry that we'll miss something obvious and someone will begin to wonder."

"Yes, there's so much to remember," added Griffin, who'd wandered in from Ethan's room. "Of course, Diana keeps telling me this should all come naturally to me, just because my mother's mother was a muggle."

"Evidently the Lloyd side was stronger, eh, Griffin?" Bertrand said, and then giving his great-nephew a sidelong glance, he added, "Did you sleep well?"

"Well, no, to be honest," Griffin answered. "But let's get breakfast together and then we can speak plainly."

So Griffin and Diana bustled about cooking eggs and bacon, making toast and coffee, while Bertrand and Eilonwy looked on with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

"Ah, that's how an electrocuted range works!" Bertrand exclaimed. "Are you sure it's quite safe?"

"It's electric not electrocuted," Diana corrected him. "And as long as one pays attention, it's just as safe as doing it on your stove with a wand."

Eilonwy slipped into the baby's room and returned with Ethan in her arms.

"Fine young fellow you are," she said with an indulgent smile. "Want to see what crazy things Mom and Dad are doing, eh, Ethan?"

Ethan rolled his blue eyes a bit and made a noise that might have been a chuckle...or a burp.

Breakfast was served and they all started in with gusto, Ethan still on Eilonwy's knee.

"Well this is good, no mistake about it," said Bertrand as he finished his second egg. "No matter how it was cooked! A house elf couldn't do better."

They talked lightly of family and old times as they ate. Ethan was passed around and made much of by all the adults in turn. When Griffin refilled their coffee cups one last time, they all pushed back their chairs and relaxed. Bertrand leaned back in his chair and gave Griffin another meaningful look.

"So," he began. "I suppose you want to know why we're really here."

"As a matter of fact," Griffin replied, "the question had crossed our minds. I mean, it's great to see you. We haven't spoken with any of our sort in three years. You're our favorite relatives, but I assume that this is more than an opportunity to congratulate us on becoming parents."

"Well, actually, Griffin, it really is that," said Eilonwy, who again had Ethan in her arms. "But you're also right that it's more than that."

"Yes, Ethan is the main reason we've come," continued Bertrand. "We want to be sure you've really thought out how his arrival may affect the life you've created here. It won't be as simple to maintain your cover with him around."

"Well of course we've thought of what might happen," Diana admitted. "But we do think we can handle it, and after all, we're not sure how magical he'll be."

"True, one never knows, though I'll wager he's no squib," Bertrand answered. "Why Griffin, you must remember some of those little "slips" of accidental magic that we all do as children. As a parent, you never know which little frustration, which irrational fear, which squabble with a playmate will result in someone hanging from the ceiling or the evening meal flying out the window."

"Yeah, I vaguely remember things like that," said Griffin, as Diana smirked across the table. "Once, when mom told me it was bedtime, I seem to remember the clock on the wall suddenly floating halfway across the room and then dropping into the wastebasket."

"Even if he turns out to be very active, we're more worried about intentional magic than accidents," Diana pointed out. "We saw how magic can be turned to evil ends, saw it and stood up to it, but we want Ethan to grow up away from all that, in a safe place."

"But don't you see, darling, " said Eilonwy in a motherly voice, "It will start with those little unpredictable 'accidents,' which you might think are cute and which little Ethan won't even think about at all. But as he gets older, he'll start to wonder and so will his muggle friends. Children can be terribly cruel to those who don't fit in, whether they're muggles or magic folk. He could be in for a rough childhood."

"You may be right," Diana said, nervously fingering her coffee cup. "But we can't raise him as a wizard here. And we can't go back. We made that decision a long time ago."

Bertrand stood up and paced about the kitchen.

"That's just it," he said earnestly. "You did make your decision, but we don't always see the future clearly and things are different now, with You-Know-Who gone. You could move out of here, maybe not far, out to your boyhood home in Spring Green. There are those who would welcome you with open arms."

Griffin thought back to the happy days of his childhood in the Wisconsin countryside. He did have cousins still living there, cousins with whom he'd had many an adventure. He was tempted to consider his uncle's suggestion. But then his thoughts turned to the life he and Diana had made in Madison. It had been hard work learning to live as muggles, but that life had its comforts and rewards. He thought of the neighbors and colleagues he'd come to cherish, the thoughtfulness of Frank and Marion Abrams next door, and the best reward of all, Ethan himself. Then his mind darkened with the recollection of the events that sundered him from that first innocent life in the country forever and forced him to build a new life with Diana amongst the muggles: the evil wizardry of Voldemort and his followers. As he looked from Diana to Ethan, still in Eilonwy's arms, the vision he'd briefly had of a simple life with his wizard cousins in the country melted away like early morning mist in the sun. His eyes met Diana's again and he read her thoughts: she had been thinking again about their narrow escape from the horrors of Table Mountain. And a resolve grew in him, a determination to keep their little son away from that world as long as possible.

"You know we'd love to do just that, Bertrand," Griffin said, in slow, measured words. "But we promised each other that we'd raise our child where he would be safe from Death Eaters and their kind. We can do that here, thanks to Flyte's powers and our own. As for You-Know-Who, you said yourself that no one's sure he's gone for good."

"True enough, true enough," Bertrand said with a resigned smile. "Cyrus Flyte thought you'd want to stay. And he told us not to push you, not too hard. He thinks you'll be alright here for a time. But he wants you to do your utmost to keep Ethan' s magical proclivities, if any, in check until the proper time comes."

"Proper time?" Diana looked puzzled. "Does he mean school age?"

"Well yes, I think so, " Bertrand replied. "Cyrus certainly doesn't tell me all he is thinking, but I rather think the old man believes this child may be special in ways even his parents don't know yet. Anyway, here's his letter. That should tell you what he really wants you to know."

Griffin took a small envelope from his great-uncle, turned it over and broke a wax seal in the form of a large "K". He pulled out the letter and held it up so that Diana could read it with him. The letter was not long, just three paragraphs, but Ethan's parents both paled as they read it. When they'd finished, they said nothing but looked at each other, clearly dismayed.

"He may be wrong," Griffin said at last.

"There's no guarantee it applies to...," Diana trailed off.

"It doesn't change anything, even if it does," Griffin said defiantly. "We still need to raise him in this world. And no soothsayer can change that."

Bertrand said quietly but firmly, "Whatever Flyte has told you--and I don't want you to tell us--the main thing is that you raise the child well and stay watchful...and I'm sure you will, wherever you are."

"We'll keep good track of you, won't we, Ethan?" cooed Griffin as he took the child from Eilonwy and held him gently in his arms. "Even if you turn out to be a squib."

"Not bloody likely with his heritage," Bertrand harrumphed. "And not if Flyte thinks he's special. You know that you can usually count on his intuition in such matters."

With that the conversation turned again to less weighty matters. Uncle Bertrand and Aunt Eilonwy spent the rest of the day with the Lloyds, chatting about old times, generally making much of Ethan and avoiding further discussion of the shadows in their past. In the evening, they even convinced the older couple to don muggle clothes and take a walk along the Yahara River in the summer dusk. Eilonwy allowed that it was a fine neighborhood and even Bertrand told them that he was happy they'd found such a decent muggle community in which to settle. "You know, your grandfather's second cousin Frank--the squib with the passion for architecture--was never quite accepted in Madison. Too bad, it seems a comfortable city," he said.

Late that evening, the Belangers changed back into their robes and bid the young family farewell. They each gave Ethan a hug and a kiss before embracing his parents.

"I can't make any promises, but I don't think this will be the last you see of us," said Bertrand at the door. "We'll try to keep up with you from time to time."

"You're always welcome here, Uncle Bertrand," Griffin said warmly.

"Look for us when you least expect us," said Eilonwy.

Out the door they swept into the darkening night. A few seconds later, Griffin and Diana heard a loud "Crack!" and knew that they were alone with Ethan and the muggles again, and they wondered what the future had in store for them.

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