Time lost!

I have been told that many years have passed since we left New York City. This astounds me, as our stay in the Haversham Estate only seemed to last a fortnight. Lady Haversham-Bentley was the center of a great many unusual phenomenon, and I can attest that our time in the Haversham Hollows glade was fraught with haunts and Faerie influence. So, yes, years and more may have passed in that one deadly night. I withdraw my skepticism.

We are back home again. O'Neill has kept seneschal over the old place in good and loyal service. Aside from a proliferation of monkeys (from those who stole away with us during the Third Nepal Dynasty adventure, perhaps?) the estate seems much the same as when we left. Even Wai-fai, our knowledgeable and swift house messenger, is still on duty for our every need.

Already there is talk of assisting my wife's cousin, whose riverboat has been plagued by dark coincidences and failing profits (note to self: task Wai-fai to research whereabouts of Mr B. Cour after the Lafayette Happening). Can we not stay a full week at home?

In India...STILL!

Yes, we're still here. With our bags loaded and farewells said, we were on our way out from the hidden valley of the naga. Sikes felt a bristling in his mustache, which generally means trouble. In this case trouble meant The Fungal Research League -- a strange and lofty moniker for what are really a bunch of thieves, thugs and egomaniacs. They use "science" as an excuse to pillage and subjugate any easy target. Did they follow us on the way in? Unlikely (though not impossible) -- Sikes is one heck of a good pilot.

Whatever the cause, the good doctor noticed that one of the satellite pods winked out shortly after our departure. We returned to a full-scale battle between the snake people and spore-belching rotoplatforms. With deft flanking maneuvers we were able to force the FRL into fighting on two fronts. During the skirmish Sikes caught a piece of shrapnel, and the doctor and I were infected with Red Clinging Moss spores -- nasty, nasty stuff. We didn't just send the League packing, though: all of the attackers were dispatched or captured. Those taken prisoner were cleansed of their recent memories using the Green Regent's immense herbological lore. The prisoners were deposited randomly throughout the mountains, close enough to civilization that they probably won't perish.

I was in a fever for two days, babbling about Atlantis and that bloody spear again. Sikes says that I nearly broke free of my bed restraints. The spores have cleared, we hope, due again to the naga knowledge of medicinal herbs and potions. The doctor is still having minor hallicination episodes and that is why we remain in India. On the plus side our hosts cooked a truly heavenly soup to help us heal and regain strength. Any food is good after a long bout of sickness, but this goes far beyond "good" in every sense. I'd ask for the recipe, but even the chefs on the air fortress won't be able to find all of the ingredients necessary. Oh well.

Until tomorrow...

Snake people rock

Why is it always raining when I visit India?

The pterocoach had no trouble with the storms we encountered along the way. Sikes is now polishing the brass on our vehicle while I enjoy the best toasted bread snacks the snake people of New Harappan have to offer. They're really quite tasty (the snacks, not the snakes) -- nice tomato-pepper drizzle and an herb mix that's savory without being overwhelming. All of the dishes here have distinct flavor differences from traditional Indian cooking. I guess living in an isolated jungle city for three thousand years will do that.

Anyway... Sikes, Dr. Crimsos and I will be setting up the new satellite pods for the Green Regent. Then it's off to Sicily to pick up a new watch. I keep forgetting what New Harappan's crazy camouflage does to anything magnetic.

My normal day

Living in a fortress supported by five ultra-zeppelins is more complex than you might know. For instance, they have to catapult our mail each day as we pass over the post office. I have my bodyguard, Sikes, catch the important stuff. We used to shoot junk mail from the sky with shotguns, but the Air Force eventually asked us to stop. Now we use the heat ray during rainy days and implosion missiles when it's dry (don't want to start forest fires with cinders).

Speaking of which, a house spider just delivered word that lunch will be served on the flying buttress garden. So long for now.