Island of Crows, Part III (15 Aug 2001) The Mirari gang returns to the real world.

The Seahawk, a single-masted wooden ship with five crew, one down from its normal complement thanks to the attack of a sea serpent, and suffering fire damage from a mishap during that attack, sails into port with its passengers, the Princess Angel, the Oracle Raven, the Lady Redmane, their knightly defender, the Explorer Thomas, and the Princess's jester, Simon. The seaport's skyline is a welcome sight to the weary expedition, as are the green hills of the mainland behind.

The Captain calls to the dockhands and they soon lash the ship into place at the dock and put planks in place so that the passengers can debark. "Fair weather, friends," the Captain says as he bids them adieu. "Luck to ye, finding our missing King. Bad for business, that."

Ahead, the Portmaster appears, a thick-built man with a stained apron, who stomps up to the Explorer and demands, "What were you kids thinking? You're almost two hours late on returning the boat!"

Casting a look to the burn marks visible, his face turns redder yet, and he almost launches into a curse, but with deference for the princess, he says, "And look at this! You've ruined the paint! I'll have to scrape this off and repaint it! What on God's green earth have you been doing?! Never mind, stay near the boathouse; I'm going to call your parents and have them come to pick you up. And they'd better pay for the damages, too!"

Lake Pollux Boathouse
This is more of a large shed, really, with one side open to the water where boats can be sailed in and winched out of the water for repairs. One corner is in use as an office with a desk and papers next to racks of tools, and a telephone on top of a phone book which the attendant, Jebediah, is using to call up the parents. From here, outside the walls, his words are indistinct but his tone of voice certainly doesn't sound pleasant.

The rowboat dubbed Seahawk by its passengers floats tied up to one of the two docks that serves Lake Pollux. It is not badly damaged but there is a burn mark under the middle seat that certainly doesn't look aesthetic. Some unlit birthday cake candles lie scattered under the front seat.

Looking a bit worried, Agatha says, "I don't see what he's all upset about. It's not like this boat is brand new. I bet a little touch-up paint will be good enough."

A shell-shocked Elinor stands with the others, her hair in a disarray around her shoulders. "What--" She glances towards the office, appearing as if she hasn't fully made the transition from Lady Raven to Elinor yet. "Why is he so angry?"

Thomas runs his hand through his matted hair and grumbles. "Alice, why did you have to bring real candles?" grouses Thomas. "We'd better think of a good reason, or our parents are going to kill us." He looks around at the others. "Okay, does anyone have a birthday soon, perhaps? Elinor, when's your birthday?"

"My uncle's going to kill me," Simon says, cringing a bit at the thought. He glances about as if for hiding places.

Alice has taken to standing behind the others, all the better to put distance between the boat owner and herself. His anger has made her distinctly uncomfortable and she frowns worriedly while fidgeting with her hands as they rest folded in front of her. "I don't know," she offers meekly. "I ... I didn't bring any matches. We were just going to pretend. I'm not allowed to play with matches ... "

"My--my birthday?" Elinor looks confused, taking a few moments to respond to Tom's question. "What does that have to do with it?"

Tom looks at Alice dubiously. "Well, I certainly didn't. I hardly brought anything with me." He turns to Simon. "Did you bring them, Simon? You were part of the whole spell casting thing." Thomas then immediately lowers his voice and points at the boat and explains. "That's why, Elinor. Someone brought candles on the boat and now it's scorched. We're all going to get into some serious trouble unless we've got a good reason for having them."

"I didn't light any matches, either," Simon says uncertainly to Tom. He reaches down and picks one of the birthday cake candles from the boat. "Look, see, the wick hasn't been touched."

The young blonde haired girl leans over a little to look at the candle Simon picked up. "I brought candles, but ... but I didn't bring any matches. I didn't," she repeats quietly.

Tom looks at the wick and says, "Seriously?" Thomas, curiosity caught, climbs into the boat and gets close to the scorch marks. He sniffs, trying to see if there's a fresh burn scent.

"He could say we just threw the burnt candle or the matches overboard," Agatha points out. "Maybe we can claim it was a pair of glasses that caused it or something?"

Elinor still looks puzzled. "You have fire for your birthday?" she asks. She takes a few hesitant steps toward the boat. "If we didn't burn it ... maybe the marks were already there?"

Tom hmms and sits back, looking at the mark. He reaches out and runs a finger over part of it, checking if there the black marring comes up. "Possibly, but I dunno. I couldn't smell anything. Doesn't mean much, though. The wind could've killed the smell by now, I guess," Tom comments.

Tom holds up his hand. "It's fairly fresh. It still wipes off somewhat."

"I don't remember the mark being there before," Simon says thoughtfully. "But we could claim it was."

Tom nods to Simon. "Count the candles we have. I think it's ten to a pack, right? If we still have ten unburnt ones, that's more proof." He shrugs. "Of course, they could claim we threw out a pack."

The dark-haired girl touches Tom's soot-smeared finger lightly. "Oh. What -- what could have happened? Could the jruuh have been at the boat while we were gone?"

"We shouldn't lie," protests Alice. "We'll just get in more trouble. But ... if I didn't light any matches, and Tommy and Simon didn't, who made the burn spot?"

Simon starts picking up candles. "Alice, do you have the pack?" he asks.

"Well, we can't say it was already there if it's still fresh," Agatha says, frowning. "And we can't tell him it was due to magic, either." Nodding to Simon, the big girl unslings her pack and hands it over to him.

Simon grins at Agatha's misinterpretation and pretends to start rummaging for it. "Ooh, goodies..." Then he hands it back.

Tom looks at Elinor and shrugs. "Well, I wish it was that easy. But the jruuh don't exist," he says, "And if we say otherwise, we'll get in even more trouble." His shoulders slump a bit.

Alice checks the pocket on her dress and removes the small box of pink birthday candles -- a package of twenty, were it full. She offers this to Simon for him to take.

The blonde looks up from the offered candles. "Maybe they do exist. Maybe ... maybe someone saw the bright light too?" she offers.

"Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen..." Simon peers under the seats. "I think we're missing a couple."

Tom looks at Alice. "Alice...? Was that box full when you brought it?"

With a nod, the youngest of the girls answers, "Yes it was."

Running her fingers through her long dark hair, Elinor nods to Tom's words, the same strange, lost look still on her face. "The jruuh don't exist," she repeats. "But ... the princess's spell drove off ... something. Didn't it?"

Alice, also Princess Angel, nods a little to Elinor's words too. "I saw the light. I know I saw it. It was real, just like Lord Mel and the jruuh," says the fantasy princess.

Simon offers Alice the pack of candles, now mostly refilled.

"Trick of the sun through the trees , probably," explains Thomas. He then adds, "I mean, magic doesn't really exist. White clothes can look like they almost glow when hit by bright light, after all."

"Thank you Simon." The candle pack is accepted and tucked back away in the pocket on Alice's dress. The youngest of the girls then frowns at Thomas. "You just don't want to say it was real," she tells him.

"Because it wasn't," responds Thomas.

"But -- it wasn't just her glowing. It was the whole forest. Everything. Didn't you see it, Thomas?" Elinor asks.

"He just doesn't want to believe. He's ... he's a ... a doubting Thomas," says Alice.

"I saw it," Agatha adds, but doesn't seem to direct the comment at anyone in particular, since she's leaning into the boat to look at the scorch mark herself. "Light. A bit of glass might have focused the sun to cause the burn, and we wouldn't have noticed it. Crows collect bits of glass."

"While we were at my tower," Elinor says. "We wouldn't have seen it. Except ... then what would have put it out?"

Tom paces a bit, grumbling. "Yeah, but how do we prove something like that?" comments Thomas. He then glances at Alice, then Elinor. "I don't remember seeing anything, but then I wasn't facing the forest at the time."

"The last thing anyone's going to believe is that a crow did this," Simon points out. "If we're going to lie, we have to say it was that way when we found it, and if we're going to tell the truth, that we don't know. Well, I am going to be so grounded."

Tom hmms softly. "Could the sunlight have been hot enough to light one of the candles while we were away?"

"Well, the truth is just as vague," Agatha says. "We don't have any melted wax to suggest it was a candle at all. I think the guy's just making a big deal out of it because we're kids. I mean, this has to happen whenever someone goes out fishing and drops their cigarette."

Alice's face wrinkles a bit at the notion of lying -- something the girl has been known to think of as distasteful, but isn't totally innocent about. "I don't really want to lie ... but grown-ups are like Tommy. They won't believe us if we tell the truth and they'll think we're making everything up," she says.

The pale-skinned child from Ruritania touches her finger to the side of the scorched seat, and it comes away black. "It does seem more likely that we did this than anything else," she says, her voice soft. "Simon?" Her accent makes the "i" and the "o" in his name closer to long than short, similar to the way she says Thomas. "Are you sure you did not light the candles?"

"I'm sure," Simon says, looking a bit aggravated.

Tom glares at Alice, looking irritated, "Will you stop acting like I'm some horrible ogre, please? If we don't figure out what happened before our folks get here -- or at the very least come up with a believable explanation -- we're all in serious trouble."

"There's always hiding out in the hills before they get here," Simon offers half-heartedly.

"You'd have to go home at some point, Simon," Thomas points out.

The younger boy says, "We could become wild men! We'd live off of the fat of the land and wear deer hide clothes..." He shakes his head. "Maybe not."

Tom smirks. "The fat of the land would include eating worms, Simon."

"Ew," is the succinct reply.

Agatha just shakes her head. "Just say it was an accident, which is true enough. Blame it on a Coke bottle someone set on a seat, and we didn't notice it causing the burn because we weren't on the boat. When the bottle was picked up, the scorching would have stopped."

Tom nods. "Well, that's reasonable. We did have cokes with us, after all." He looks about, "Did anyone drink one while we were boating over? I don't remember."

The younger girl takes a step back and looks at a loss for a moment, then just as fast she shakes her head. "No!" She eyes Thomas, then turns away when she can't seem to maintain the stare. A moment later she continues quietly, saying, "You never believe anything I say. Never."

Tom snaps a response to Alice, "Because most of the time what you say isn't possible!"

Elinor glances to Tom, then at Alice. "Please, Thomas, Alice." She speaks softly, stepping towards the blonde girl to touch her back lightly with her clean hand, then looks back to Tom. "She knows you are not a monster. And yet ... you do not believe in what she says she has seen, any more than you think your parents will believe that we do not know what happened to the boat."

Just as quietly, the black-haired girl adds, "And it is the underside of the seat which is burnt, not the top."

"The boat would have been on the island when the burn happened," Agatha says, and frowns at the looks Tom and Alice are giving each other. "It's important for Tom not to believe in everything odd we see, too, Alice. Although he could be a little less dismissive about it."

Tom stuffs his hands in his pockets and glowers.

Tom takes a breath. "Okay, Agatha and I weren't on the boat for part of it, so that leaves Simon and Alice," he stays, starting to pace again, "Okay you two, what did you do, exactly? What did you leave on the boat when we went further onto the island?"

The blonde girl blinks a little, her hand reaching to her side as if for a her purse but she doesn't find it, and the hand falls back to her side without energy. She doesn't say anything to the retort and just continues to look out over the water and to the island beyond.

"We didn't leave anything in the boat, except for the oars," Simon says, looking at Alice to confirm this.

Tom peers back into the boat, looking for scrape marks under the seat. "You know, no birthday candle coulda burnt it this much -- I don't think anyway," he comments.

"Are ... are you okay, Simon?" Alice asks softly. "D-did you burn your clothes?"

Simon says, "Great, so now we're big time arsonists. Huh?" He looks down, examining his shirt, then looks at one of the sleeves, which seems charred at first ... but as he rubs it a bit, the darkening seems to be just dirt. "No, maybe I fell down along the way. I remember taking a tumble."

Agatha furrows her brow in thought. "We aren't missing anything that could have burned there, are we? It couldn't have been a birthday candle, and anything bigger would have left a trace of itself as well, right? Even a wadded up bit of paper would have left ashes."

Alice's tilts so she can watch her own reflection. "Your arm caught on fire. When I was casting the spell, it did. You lit the candle with it ... but ... but what caught your arm on fire caught other things on fire too," she explains. "I took Rebecca's book with me, I left it over there-" She turns just enough to point a bit, then turns back. "- and that was everything."

"You didn't bring a notebook to write lyrics, did you, Simon?" asks Thomas.

"There was a tablecloth, too ... that's what Simon set on fire, when he stumbled. We ate on the ship too. I think the tablecloth is w-with the spell book," adds Alice, quietly.

Elinor steps back into the boat as the others talk, kneeling beside the scorched mark. "I think ... I think that you must have started the fire." She stands. "That is what we must tell the angry man. That we did it, and that we are sorry."

Simon rolls his eyes.

Tom looks at Alice oddly. "Tablecloth? I don't remember any tablecloth."

The younger boy climbs up on a barrel and perches with arms around his knees. "I am so grounded," he repeats.

Alice rubs her hands together a little, the reaches up to wrap her arms around herself in a loose hug. "I told Simon to light the candles. I did. I'll say I did it."

Agatha frowns and seems to concentrate. She thought the fire had been imaginary at first. "Simon's sleeve isn't burnt though. I still don't know what we can tell the man beyond 'it was an accident and we're sorry' if he asks what happened."

Tom looks between the other kids, "Do any of you remember a tablecloth?" He then casts a glance at Alice. "Don't admit to something you may not have done. That's lying, too."

"But I didn't really light any candles," Simon points out. "And even if you say you told me to do it, my uncle is still going to give me real trouble for being moronic enough to go along with it -- or let you do it ... or, whatever."

Alice frowns more and turns to walk away from the water back towards where she left the spell book.

"Think we should try washing it off? Maybe it's just surface dirt," adds Thomas.

"It does not matter who did it, whether it was a coke bottle or a match or Alice's spell," Elinor says, getting out of the boat again, and looking towards the office. "The adults will not care. All they will care about is that we ... take ... ree-spons-ibility."

Agatha nods. "Or soot stains, yeah." She pulls a handkerchief from her pocket and wets it from the water before trying to wash away the marks.

With Rebecca's spell book in hand, Alice walks over to an old length of dried and rain-worn old wood. She brushes her dress as she sits down, and opens the book on her lap and begins flipping pages slowly.

Tom nods to Elinor. "I have no problems taking responsibility for something I've done. The problem is, none of us know what happened. They'll want to know what happened," he says.

The worst of the marks come off with some effort from Agatha, though some of the paint is peeling and bubbled from the heat, and some of the blackness is obviously permanent.

The dark-haired girl gives a quiet sigh. She settles down at the base of the barrel Simon is on top of, hugging her knees to her chest, the long skirt of her dress bloused over to her ankles.

The boathouse's attendant hangs up the phone and comes out, looking a bit satisfied. "All right, I've called your parents. They'll be here soon, and they say they'll pay for the damages. I want you kids to stay right here until they get here. Got it?" Jebediah folds his arms.

Agatha climbs out of the boat and pockets her damp handkerchief. "We won't go anywhere," she says to the man.

"Yes, Mr. Jebediah," answers the blonde haired girl. She flips a few more pages and continues to look unhappy.

Elinor only nods to the tall man, not looking him in the eye.

Tom simply nods to the man. "One question, sir," he begins, "When was the last time you loaned out this boat?"

"A few days ago, and I know it was in good condition when it got returned, Tom," Jebediah says shortly. He unties the rowboat, then pulls the line to tug it toward and into the boathouse. A few minutes later, there is the creaking of a winch being used to pull it up to where, presumably, he'll be able to do the resurfacing work on a firm surface instead of in the water.

Tom crosses his arms and sighs. He shakes his head and mumbles, "Last time, last time."

"What's that?" Simon asks Tom, looking up from his momentary moroseness.

"The spells," answers Alice after a moment, sounding distracted. Her eyes wander the page and she seems to only be half listening. "Do you want to help me, Elinor?"

"Last time I go off on any 'fantasy adventures'. Something bad always seems to happen," Tom replies.

Elinor starts to get up and move towards Alice, but stops in her tracks at Tom's words. "Thomas!" She sounds horrified. "You -- you cannot mean that?" She turns to him, a pleading look in her eyes.

Agatha sits down on the wooden planks of the dock. "Something unusual always seems to happen, I think. Unexplainable. But that's the whole point of an adventure, isn't it?"

Alice looks up for a moment. "I'm going to keep looking. We," her head returns to the book and her words begin to train off in to a near inaudible whisper, "have to save the kingdom."

"Yeah, well, it loses the appeal when you know you're going to get yelled at ... or called a monster, meanie, or what have you, repeatedly," says Thomas slowly, then grumbles, "I know we didn't damage that boat. We couldn't have."

Simon makes a rude noise. "You won't give it up, Tom. It's in your blood. Besides, we'd be so lost without you pointing out the way." He grins wryly.

The young Ruritanian woman walks to Thomas's side, touching his sleeve with the tips of her fingers. "But you also saved me, Thomas," she says, her voice low. "Wasn't it worth it?"

Eyebrows raised, Agatha watches to see if Tom is calmed down by this. She doesn't imagine "brought to his senses" would apply though, not to a boy like Tom.

Thomas opens his mouth and tries to say something. "Try" being the operative word, he barely manages a squeak. He immediately covers his mouth and turns bright red. A few moments later he mutters softly, "Well, okay, that was."

Simon mutters, "No fair," then chuckles at Tom's predicament.

Meanwhile, the blonde haired girl continues to turn pages. Words and arcane symbols continue to pass by until the girl stops, and look up again. This time she continues to watch leaving the book alone for the moment.

Elinor smiles a little at his words, as if to encourage him, and then her own skin flushes, in faint echo of his embarrassment. She drops her hand and looks away. "I like your game," she says. "And it is only my first time playing. I ... I do not want it to be the last."

Tom inhales, then lets out a long breath. "Okay, then we should probably just say we left some paper and a bottle on the boat and the sunlight started it accidentally. That's believable, isn't it?" says Thomas slowly, calming down. "It would've burned quickly, probably enough to scorch, then blown away."

Agatha decides not to tease Tom, and just grins a bit. There's still the problem of coming up with an explanation for the fire that makes any sense. Claiming it was caused by magic is just as believable, from her perspective, as expecting people to imagine Alice or Simon playing with matches. "A napkin maybe? That could have been wide enough."

"Say the bottle was sitting on the edge of the paper to hold it down," he adds. He nods to Agatha, "Good idea. Used a bottle to hold down the leftover napkins after lunch?"

Simon nods. "All right," he says tentatively.

Nodding a little, the raven-haired girl offers, "And perhaps that is what happened."

Tom says, "Or at least that's what we suspect. We came back from wandering the island and found it scorched and our napkins gone?"

"Okay," is all Alice says.

"I didn't notice any scorching until Jeb pointed it out," Agatha admits. "It doesn't seem likely that Alice or Simon would have missed the boat being on fire while they were still on it."

An old pickup truck comes down the road, then pulls off to near the boat area. A tall and fairly muscular man steps out, his hair black peppered with gray, kept buzz cut-short. He shouts and waves to his son, then begins to walk toward the boathouse.

Tom swallows softly and waves toward his father. "Well, I hope it's believable. That's gotta be what happened. We weren't off the boat that long and, yeah, I imagine they woulda been screaming if it was on fire while they were there," he says quietly to his friends.

"Give me a situation report, Tom," William says as he steps into the dock area. The manager of the local hardware store spares a glance and a nod to the other kids, then looks back to Tom. "What happened?"

"But there was a ... " The blonde haired girl lets her sentence end incomplete as she looks between Thomas and his dad.

Elinor crosses one hand over her chest to rest her fingers against the arm opposite. She glances to the father, and shifts to stand beside the boy, silently supporting him without getting between the two.

Simon self-consciously shifts to a more proper sitting position on the barrel, knees dangling over the edge rather than pulled up.

"We made a mistake, Dad," says Thomas slowly. "We went out boating to the island out there, just continuing our game we've been playing. We brought a few things along. Lunch, a floatie to be a 'sea monster'. Silly, but it was fun." He takes a breath, then continues, "Well, after lunch we left out remaining napkins on the boat along with our used coke bottles to hold them down." He lowers his head a bit, then continues, "I should have remembered that sunlight through a bottle gets things under it real hot. Our last couple napkins must've caught fire when we were wandering on the island and scorched the underside of the boat seat. Because when we got back, it was scorched some. We washed it off as best we could, but some of the paint got damaged. I'm sorry. We all are -- it's our fault."

William pauses, locking eyes with Tom, then nods as if satisfied by what he sees there. "Accidents happen, son. We'll let it go this time, but remember to be more careful next time. I'll talk to Mr. Jebediah."

Tom nods softly. "We couldn't even figure out how it happened at first. Took us a bit to remember what we left on the boat. We then realized what happened. I'm sorry. When you talk to him, please tell him I'm sorry?" He hangs his head, "I asked him a bit ago when the last time was he loaned it out, because we couldn't figure out how it happened. I think he got mad. Probably thought I was trying to get out of it. We just weren't sure what happened when I asked him."

"All right, son. You are, however, late for dinner, and your mother and I were very worried until Mr. Jebediah called," Mr. Winthrope continues. "You should have called us, son. You know how to tell time from the sun, so -- you can spend the evening in your room. That'll give you time to think about what you should have done." With that said, he walks to the front of the boathouse and knocks on the door there. The sounds of a tool scraping from inside die away, and then the two grown-up's voices are heard in low conversation.

Elinor lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and gives a quick glance and a smile to Tom. "That is not so bad, is it?" she half-whispers.

Simon pantomimes drawing a hand across his forehead with a "Whew!" exhalation, then grins to Tom.

"Wow, you really lucked out Tom," Agatha says, shaking her head in amazement. "See, that must have been magic there, at least," she adds with a grin.

Tom nods and takes a breath, "That went a lot better than I thought." He leans heavily against a barrel, then sticks out his tongue at Agatha.

Not long after Tom's father goes into the boathouse, a sedan pulls up, and Mrs. Travison bustles out, wringing her hands. "My word! Elinor, dear, are you all right?"

The raven-haired girl nods meekly, while Mrs. Travison fusses over her, and clucks at the other children. Elinor lets Tom explain the fire, which the housewife seems to accept with only a little suspicion. She hurries the girl off towards the waiting car, while Elinor waves good-bye sadly to her friends.

"Bye, Elinor!" calls out Alice. She hasn't said anything during the conversations, and had since returned to her book which she was reading up until Elinor went to go.

Agatha waves back, and says to the others, "I hope she doesn't get in trouble. Are Rebecca's parents the type to make a big deal of this, Alice?"

Mr. Winthrope steps out of the boat house. "That's taken care of, son. Miriam, Jebediah says that John and Martha," he says, naming Agatha's father and Alice's mother, "are on their way to pick up their kids now, so they should be fine. Hop in, son."

Simon waves to Elinor. "Be sure to send us a postcard from the dungeon!" he teases.

Tom waves to Elinor. "Bye, Elinor. Hope you had fun, even with the accident. We'll know better than to leave things behind next time," he calls out. He then looks to his father and nods. "Yes, sir." He heads over to the truck and climbs into the passenger side and waves to his friends through the window.

Mrs. Travison nods to her fellow adult. "Thank you, William." she says, with a brisk smile, before closing the door behind Elinor. She does look a little like a captive princess, peering at them through the glass of the car window.

Alice smiles a little. "Oh no, Rebecca's parents are very nice," she answers, then adds after a pause, "and sometimes very Jewish, Rebecca told me -- but I'm not sure if that's good or bad."

Mr. Winthrope starts the pickup truck and pulls out of the parking lot, then back onto the road heading east. His car is soon lost to sight in a cloud of dust from the dirt road.

The Travisons' sedan similarly vanishes, leaving the three kids momentarily alone on the docks.

Turning again to Alice, Agatha asks, "Those spells you did ... they were both from Rebecca's book?"

A nod. "Yep. But I've been trying to find them again. I forgot which page they were on," answers the little blonde.

Alice looks down at the book and flips a few more pages, then pauses as she seems to consider, then flips a few more quickly. "Here it is," she says, offering the book up for Agatha's inspection.

Simon hops off the barrel and goes to look over Alice's shoulder. "Hey ... is this the spell that you read in the boat?"

"Yes it is. See? That's what I read." Alice offers Simon a look as well. "Well, it's a little different, but it's mostly the same."

"Mostly the same? What were you doing, ad-libbing or something?" the erstwhile jester says.

The spells of the book are hand-printed with careful lettering in black ink on the white page. The pages are unlined, though there are places on the sheets where the eraser marks and other traces of where pencil lines were drawn in and then erased can be seen. On the page with the spell Alice cast on the boat, there are also diagrams showing how the candles should be set out.

"Well," begins the blond hesitantly, "I read from the book ... mostly. I just, um, I think I changed some parts because I thought they sounded more ... more right. I don't remember very well though."

Simon glances over to Agatha, then back to Alice. "So you're a natural sorceress?" he teases, grinning wryly.

Alice sticks her tongue out at Simon. "No. That's silly. I'm a princess," she explains, sounding uncertain. "But I did see the light. I did, I really did. Thomas doesn't believe me, he never believes me, but I saw it! It was real."

"I have trouble remembering exactly what was pretend and what wasn't," Agatha says. "Well, some things anyway. I didn't think the fire on the boat was real ... or else I'd just forgotten about it."

"I remember seeing the light, yes," Simon says, frowning a bit. He is interrupted by the sound of a car coming up the road.

A tow truck appears out of the east on the road, driven by a friendly-looking man with a baseball cap tilted over his head. Once he's pulled up, he steps out, as muscular as a blacksmith might be, naturally ruddy of face, curling red hair poking out from under his cap; his work coveralls are liberally stained with grease. "Evening, kids. You've been out pretty late, haven't you, Aggie? And lighting the town up, I hear." He takes off his cap to brush his hair back, then replaces it.

Agatha blinks at this. "Lighting the town up? Sorry Dad, it was just an accident with the boat. I should have realized not to leave bottles out where they could catch the sun."

The redheaded girl stands up and brushes herself off. "Sorry to get you out here too."

The younger of the remaining girls look puzzled, blinking twice and asks, "Lighting the town up, Mr. Cunningham? Did you see the light too?"

"Light? Nope, I was just working in the garage when I got the call. Well, Aggie, you've got to be careful with those bottles," John Cunningham says. "Get in then. I'll get you back home. I want you to be more careful next time, you hear? Can't start developing any bad habits; open flames're no good around cars and flammable stuff, see."

While Agatha and her father talk, a station wagon with wood-paneled siding pulls up amid the unsettled dust, and a woman in a nurse's uniform gets out. Her cap has been removed, however, revealing dark hair tucked professionally into a bun at the top of her head. "Alice!" She approaches the little blonde girl, shaking her head. "You had me worried, young lady! and I was working late, too. It's a good thing that my relief finally showed up -- you know your father took Gabriel out to his baseball practice."

Alice's smile lessens a bit at the answer, making her look somewhat disappointed by it. "Oh," she says. "Well, bye, Agatha! Bye, Mr. Cunningham."

Agatha waves to the others. "I had fun you guys, despite the mess with the boat! Take care." She then climbs into the truck with her father.

Mr. Cunningham stops by the boathouse momentarily to speak to the boathouse owner, then gives the kids a thumbs up. "G'evening, Mrs. Westfield. Jebediah says that Mr. Winthrope's already taken care of the damages." He slips back into the car, then spares a glance to Simon. "Hey, kid. Hop in; I'll drop you off by your place too."

Alice closes the spell book and wraps her arms around it, hugging it loosely to her chest. She begins to approach the elder Westfield and wiggles her fingers in a little wave to her. "Hi, Mom. I'm really sorry! It was ..," the girl pauses, looking uncertain, then continues, " ... it was a bottle, and napkins, Thomas thinks. He's not sure. But we're really sorry."

Mrs. Westfield kneels before her daughter, straightening her dress while she professionally checks her over for scrapes and cuts. "What happened to your cheek, sweetie?" she says with concern, touching her daughter's face. A smear of dirt covers a red welt there.

Simon perks up a bit. "Thanks, Mr. Cunningham! I don't think my uncle is coming out to pick me up after all." He gets to the narrow back seat that the tow truck offers.

She reaches a hand from around the book and touches at her face, frowning a little for a moment. "A branch hit me," she answers. "When we were on the island."

"Bye, Alice!" Simon calls from the truck.

Alice lifts herself on her toes and waves over her mother. "Bye, Simon!"

"Try not to sit on anything greasy," Agatha warns Simon as he finds a seat.

The dark-haired woman frowns. "Sometimes I think those older kids play too rough for you, Angel. Come back to the car and we'll get you fixed up." She smiles, looking into her daughter's blue eyes. "I'm sure that whatever it was with the bottle and napkins, it wasn't your fault, sweetie."

A pause, and then the young boy reports, "Too late." He grimaces but seems to bear up. Mr. Cunningham laughs and starts the tow truck up, then backs it out and hits the road again.

Alice smiles back at her mom, then steps forward and gives her mother a big hug. "Well, Agatha protects me, and Simon, he's very funny. And Elinor is very nice and she talks with an accent, and Tommy ... Tommy doesn't believe, but he's not a monster. Except when he dresses like one," she explains matter-of-factly. She lets her mother go and looks up. "Did you know shadow-dogs don't like bright light? And ... " She continues to explain the adventure on the way back to the car, holding the magic book in one hand, and her mother's hand in the other.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.