In this extract from All the Wild Weather, writer Paddy is surprised to make the acquaintance of the Reverend Pontius, from the non-existent Isle of Larus…

Paddy found himself looking at a stocky elderly man soberly dressed in a well-worn frock coat, knee-breeches and buckled shoes, on his knees in an attitude of prayer in the middle of the floor. It was hard to say which of them looked more surprised at this turn of events.
“I didn’t see that, not really,” said Paddy, looking away. “I just needed something to happen. Talked myself into it.”
But when he looked back, it was still stubbornly set in the middle of the room. The apparition knelt there, one hand to its lips, apparently puzzled. At last it lowered the hand, got to its feet with difficulty and gave a careful bow.
“Do I have the inestimable honour of addressing the Spirit of the Sky?” it said. “I must say, your worship is not exactly what I was expecting.”
“I wasn’t expecting you, either.” Paddy wasn’t thinking very straight, but then he wasn’t accustomed to conversing with apparitions. “And I’m pretty sure I’m not your spirit.”
“Not the spirit? Then perhaps I am not dead after all,” said the spectre, patting its arms as if to make absolutely sure. “Well, indeed, I feel real enough. But if not the spirit, then who might you be, sir, if I might make so bold?”
“Patrick Fields.” Paddy rarely used his full name, but formality seemed to be called for in this company. “My mother had a sense of humour.” It usually took only a few moments for people to make the jump from Patrick to Paddy and from there to Fields.
The spectre inclined its head politely, but seemed not to get the joke.
“Master Fields. I am the Reverend Pontius, western guardian, Isle of Larus. Or possibly late of the Isle of Larus. I am not entirely sure just yet.”
Paddy felt his jaw drop so low he was expecting a thud as it collided with the floor.
The Reverend peered around the room politely, and then broke the silence. “The afterlife has a very strange aspect,” he observed. “Very strange.”
Paddy re-found his voice. “Don’t think it’s the afterlife,” he stammered. “Did you say Isle of Larus?” He was frightened to ask.
“I did. Do you know it, sir?”
“Well, I certainly know of it.”
Forgive me, sir. My curiosity gets the better of me. I have no idea how I have come to be here and make your esteemed acquaintance, which is an honour, I am sure. I have so many questions.”
Paddy nodded. “I have a few myself.”
The Reverend bowed again. “This strange, ah, arrangement can only be the doing of the Spirit of the Sky. I am sure of it. Common sense tells me you have been sent by the spirit to assist us. Do you not think?”
Paddy had no idea what to think. He closed his eyes a moment. “Let’s try and get this straight, shall we? You are the…?”
“Reverend Pontius.” Another bow.
“And you are the western…?”
“Guardian, Isle of Larus, yes.”
“And you think I have been sent to help you?”
“By the Spirit of the Sky, yes. Understand this, Master Fields, the Isle of Larus is in grave danger. We face a most severe and terrible threat. The guardians have been at their wits’ ends to know how to deal with it. In desperation I had been on my knees as you saw me, appealing to the spirit for assistance. And when I opened my eyes, here I was, and here you were. You are a gift from the spirit. No more, no less. ”

Adventure and gentle humour: The Larus Trilogy – Isle of Larus myBook.to/MyAmazonLinks , Sea of Clouds myBook.to/MyAmazonBooks and All the Wild Weather http://amzn.to/29QyIqJ