Monster's Ball :Shadow In Time by Priscilla Poole Rainwater Page A

silent, scrutinizing him in a manner that would have made most people (even immortals), nervous.
     
    Bowing his head as a show of respect to The Dark Lord, Thoth chose his next words carefully. “You know humans say smoking is bad for your health.” he said, tactfully leaving out the fact he didn't like anyone smoking in the mansion.
     
    Taking another deep drag and blowing several more smoke rings, Hades broke his silence, speaking in a voice that held a bitter edge of cynicism. “Then how fortunate for me I'm not human.” he sneered in a condescending manner.
     
    Noting how the God sneered the word 'human' as if it was a curse, Thoth was amazed yet again at how most of the Gods held humans in such low regard. After all, didn't the Gods themselves want humans to love, fear, revere, and worship them? “Are you enjoying the festivities?” He asked through gritted teeth, doing his best to be a good host to the obnoxious being.
     
    Grunting noncommittally, Hades finally broke eye contact, then looked around the beautiful room as if it were a hovel. “I would prefer to be in my domain, but I promised someone I would come tonight.” he grunted, then took a final drag from his cigarette. Dropping it to the floor, he ground out the glowing ember with the right heel of his expensive loafers.
     
    Seeing the guarded look on the God's face, Thoth's curiosity was piqued. Who (besides himself) would ever actually request the presence of this snobbish immortal? Wisely deciding to not push the issue, he found his thoughts suddenly wandering to one of the oldest portions of the property, but didn't know why. “Then I shall take my leave of you, sir. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” he replied smoothly, glancing distastefully at the smudge the extinguished cigarette had left on the highly polished floor.
     
    With the tiniest hint of a smile, Hades replied in his usual discontented voice, “Oh, I'm sure we'll see each other again.” That said, he turned his back to the wizard, as if dismissing him in his own home.
     
    Doing his best to control his rising temper, Thoth merely rolled his eyes, then made his way out of the large doors, intent upon visiting a part of the plantation few ever ventured to these days.
     
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    Alone with her thoughts, Fern Skeet looked out over the pond, marveling at the light of the full moon reflecting off the clear mountain water. As the fall wind blew down from atop the Appalachian Mountains, the spirit jars hanging from the low branches of two nearby oak trees jingled, voices from the past greeting her, welcoming her, welcoming her back home.
     
    “ Welcome home sister, it's been a long time!” The disembodied voices of the long-dead slaves whispered all around her.
     
    The spirit jars were a way station , a place where spirits were able to ascend to a higher level, if so inclined. Each jar was a home of sorts for spirits, a place where they could also leave this earthly realm and enter other dimensions. This was where they more or less remained until they were finally ready to cross over to their final destination.
     
    Closing her eyes, Fern remembered vividly the day she and Thoth had hung the jars for the poor souls the evil mountain witch had murdered. Their deaths had been so traumatic, their spirits still roamed the plantation, not understanding what had happened, still not ready to take the final journey.
     
    Opening her eyes, a tear glistened on one cheek as she remembered the good times (as good as a slave's life could be, at least), before the events of that horrible night. As their voices drifted up from the pond, she took comfort in the presence of the long-dead. Hearing the giggles of slave children (who had labored from sunrise to sundown for an ungrateful mistress), Fern smiled sadly as she thought about the great pleasure the