A Persistence of Dreams

Inti Mach'ay and the Royal Feast of the Sun. Cusco Region, Urubamba Province, Machupicchu District, above the Sacred Valley. December 21, 1572 


The high priest stood waiting behind the Intihuatana stone for the sun to rise. The Inca believed the old stone captured and held the sun in place along its trek across the sky. As a calendar, the Intihuatana aligns with the sun's position during the winter solstice. At midday on November 11, and again on January 30, the sun shines directly down upon the pillar, casting no shadow at all. The hand-carved base, however, tilts outward; on those days, the truth behind the vastness of the Inca Empire is seen. An empire far more significant than anyone knew, an empire currently under assault.


The priest retrieved the set of ceremonial daggers made from bismuth bronze from the tomb. The knives, created in the fifteenth century, are the earliest known artifacts containing this alloy. They were said to be a gift from the gente pequeña, the little people. He would not leave them for the hairy, conquerors to find. They stank and had no honor.


Twenty million Meso-Americans disappeared. Ninety-five percent of the Olmec, Mayan, Aztec, and Inca populations just went on a walkabout one morning and disappeared. It was not war or disease, for there were no bodies.

The Compassionist’s Agenda. Three days ago. 


A week ago, my life changed. A gathering of dreams came home. I was tired, exhausted, and accidentally drugged. I'd been caring for a friend when the illusions crawled from the darkness onto my deck. They woke something from childhood; memories and dreams belonging to someone else. Familiar, somehow, but not mine. Something in them haunted me for a week. But, as it does, life returned to normal; until this morning. Two of the little ones came back; simply popped into existence along the shoreline.


The Imaginary Resolution Services® were tracking the dreams that visited. They had disappeared after revealing themselves, with no traces anywhere. The only reason 'Homefry' and 'Pooh' came here was to question my friend, the one who started all this in the first place. It seems Leonardo Garfield is the only Grumpmuffin available now. The IRS was hoping to backtrack our visitors from his signature. It turns out that cats are walkers. Their purrs allow them a sympathetic resonance that vibrates the veils open between realities. The Twelyth Teg use their wings to the same end. The rest of us need to use the ley lines, the bismuth veins that crisscross the planet.


Be that as it may, I am going along, too. What I thought was a one-off experience goes much deeper. Children encounter magic because they look for it. It snuck up on me. I did not find the beauty of my childhood again, only to lose it now. If you know anything about me, it should be that I keep a promise. I don't make many, but the ones that I do, get delivered.


Homefry and Pooh, along with me and thee, are going to find our friends and bring them home. Despite the odds, I'll do what I usually do and follow my heart. But first, we need to locate a few things lost to time... miracles. We're going to need them.