The Book of Rules July 16 (13 Mar 2003) Alice, Thomas and Simon search around the Siege des Anges.

Siege des Anges
This little square is just the same as it always has been, framed by a low brick wall, around four feet high, on all sides. Gaps are placed in it through which paths enter on west and south sides, forming semi-circles which intersect a circle, paved with an irregular pattern of tight-fitting white and black slabs of stones. Trees overshadow the paths and line the edges of this square, all but hiding the center square, in which four benches look onto a bronze statue of an angel facing east, hand drawing (or sheathing, some argue) a sword. Houses border the north and east side, some of a colonial style, others built where older buildings once stood.

As a young girl, blonde and blue-eyed, pursues a loping greyhound toward the park, she pauses at the edge of the square over which the Angel presides: there's someone sitting on the bench, a picnic basket to her side, enjoying a lunch in the sun.

Graying hair, a matronly build, a sun-bleached dress with ruffles that must surely stem from older years-- it's Mrs. Christy, whom Alice has been assured by Agatha surely teaches the most boring English class of all the English teachers of Ainigton Grade School. As she notices Kuon's approach and then Alice's, she calls, "Well, is that you, Alice? How nice to see you here? And such a darling dog it is that you've found! Come here, boy, would you like a treat?" This latter is almost certainly addressed to Kuon, as she begins digging into the basket.

Not one to be impolite if she can help it, and certainly not inclined to do so after the whole disaster with Thomas's grandma, Alice lifts her hand in a wave to the teacher and decides to skip on over. "I'm here a lot," the little girl explains enthusiastically, "but not so much with Kuon. He's usually at Mr. Kuning's house but sometimes I get to play with him!"

Mrs. Christy smiles, rummaging about for something suitable to offer the nose-snuffling Kuon. "So, this is Mr. Kuning's dog? He's a fine looking one."

Kuon seems just about to snuffle right into the basket, but luckily, remembers his manners enough to wait just beyond its wicker walls, tail wagging frenetically.

"Yep! He's very brave, and has a very good nose," elaborates the little girl as she reaches the bench.

"Does he, now?" Mrs. Christy fetches out a ham and cheese sandwich, and takes a half which she offers to Kuon. Her voice takes on a teacherly tone. "He's a greyhound, dear, which is a kind of sighthound. They course for prey mainly by speed and sight, not by their noses. They are supposed to have come from North Africa and Arabia. Did you know that it was Queen Elizabeth the First who made coursing hounds the 'sport of queens?'" She gives Alice a smile, encouraging her to sit down.

Kuon chomps down the offered treat hungrily, then begins licking the crumbs off of the stones of the square below.

"I didn't know that!" The little girl settles herself down beside the elderly teacher and smoothes her skirts out before reaching over to ruffle Kuon up. "Did you know that Kuon? Queen Seraph never said anything about queen sports. And you know I'm only okay at sports, not like Agatha or Tommy, so maybe I need to play softball."

A sudden surge of wind whips up Alice's hair about her face, and Ms. Christy reaches up to secure her hat. "Gracious!" she exclaims. "It's gotten blustery."

It is out the corner of her eyes that Alice catches sight of the two newcomers to the park, a taller, dark-haired boy, silvery chainmail glinting atop a forester's outfit, partially disguised by a thick furred cloak, a sword on his belt, accompanied by a younger pageboy-haircut boy in dark leathers. Kuon, startled by their appearance, begins barking excitedly to alert Alice, drawing Ms. Christy's eyes to the dog.

In a moment, surely, she will look to see what has caught Kuon's attention.

Tom taps Simon's shoulder and whispers, "Hide, hurry. We don't want folks here to see us and have to explain." Thomas immediately begins to look for cover.

The little girl sitting on the bench sits up and twists to get a better look at the arrival. When she's managed to push her blonde hair out of her eyes enough to see clearly she blinks at the two boys for a moment and then turns away from them. She reaches over and tugs Mrs. Christy's arm gently, asking, "Do queens like horses too? Because Mr. Kuning has a nice horse. His name is Destre, and he's very pretty."

Simon wobbles a moment, reaching up to shade his eyes from the brilliant daylight, then looks around in a sudden panic, trying to figure out the closest and best hiding place. "Which way?" he whispers insistently back.

Thomas takes off in a slightly arcing dart towards the statue. "At least from there we can dart north and out of the park," he decides.

"Now now, Kuon, don't be too greedy," Mrs. Christy says with a decidedly authoritative tone as she swats him on the nose. The greyhound shuts up immediately and sits obediently. "Destre? What sort of horse do you think he is, Alice?"

Simon follows Thomas hurriedly. In a moment, the two are safely hidden by the bushes from Agatha's dreaded English teacher.

Alice's nose wrinkles as she tries to think. "A big one?" she offers. "He's big-horse size, not small horse pony or extra-small horse miniature horse."

Tom crouches down and hmms. "Okay, we need to get out of town as quickly as possible. We do rather stand out looking like this. Lets head north, out of the park, then make towards the manor first -- keeping to alleys and bushes as best we can," he says.

Tom then adds, "Or do you think we should try to get Alice away from the queen of dull, first? I have an idea..."

"Well, dear, Mrs. Danzwyck might be able to show you many different kinds of horses, but if he were a very large horse with stocky proportions and thick hooves, he might be a Clydesdale, which are commonly bay or brown, sometimes gray and black," Mrs. Christy begins, launching into a lecture about the common kinds of horses. Kuon gives Alice a quizzical look.

Simon whispers, "We were sort of told to keep an eye on her," a bit apologetically.

The blonde girl returns the look with a confused one of her own. "Mortals like to name everything," she whispers to the canine by way of explanation.

Tom nods. "Well, here goes nothing!" Thomas says, then pulls his cloak tight to conceal the mail. He peers around the bushes so just his head can be seen and shouts, "Hey, Alice! There you are! You were supposed to meet Simon and I for a game earlier! If you want to still join, come on! If not, I'm sure everyone will understand!"

"Or perhaps Mr. Kuning's Destre might be an Arabian," Mrs. Christy suggests. "They're more finely proportioned, characterized most by their finely chiseled heads with a dished face, long arching necks, and high tail carriage." She looks up, noticing the call. "Oh, dear, is someone calling you, Alice?"

Alice looks up and blinks. She seems to think about the yell a moment and then exclaims, "Oh! I better go, then!" After hopping to her feet she gives the teacher an apologetic curtsey. "I'm terribly sorry, but, I ... " she pauses as she seems to search for the proper wording, " ... simply must join my friends, Mrs. Christy. If you would excuse me?"

"Gracious, I do lecture, don't I? Well, run along, dear, don't let me keep you," says the kindly older woman with a smile. "Here, Kuon, do have the other half, for being such a good listener." She feeds the greyhound the rest of the sandwich, which is wolfed down in a trice.

"Thank you very much Mrs. Christy. Have a nice day!" And with herself excuse the little girl hurries off to join Thomas and Simon with Kuon hot on her heels. "Hi!" she calls out to them.

"Leave it to Alice to chatter at everyone," Thomas mutters, then smiles and waves to the girl. "Okay, we need to see if she knows anything new, and if not, move on."

Mrs. Christy resumes eating her lunch on the bench, taking out a small knife to cut an apple into slices. She appears to be paying no particular attention to Alice and her friends.

Simon grins as he waves to Alice. "You look just like Lady Jill," he says by way of greeting.

"Simon!" exclaims Alice in surprise as she gets a better look at the two boys. "Are you okay? I was worried about you! I didn't know what to think when y-" Her lecture is cut off as something seems to dawn on her. She blushes bright red, covers her mouth, and giggles nervously.

This elicits a raised eyebrow. "So that was you?" asks Simon, still grinning but more lopsidedly. "Well, you sure had me fooled! I thought it was just a coincidence, and I was going to tell you all about your lookalike!"

"What are you laughing about? This is serious business," Thomas says gruffly. "Where's Agatha?"

Trying to gather her seriousness about her the little girl reigns in her giggling, inhales, lowers her hands from her mouth ... and breaks in to helpless tittering when she tries to speak anyway. Her hands her hands return to her face and she shakes her head apologetically.

Tom taps his fingers on his sword hilt and simply eyes the little girl.

Simon gives Thomas a sidelong look. "Girls," he mutters.

Alice holds up a hand as if to ask for a moment. The last hand covering her mouth "hides" her from Simon as she whispers to Thomas with much effort, "She's going to Mr. Kuning's place with John Harcourt." The topic seems to sober her a bit and with less strain she adds, "He's original John Harcourt's son, and he's nice, and he doesn't want to play the bad guy anymore aaaannnnd we know where The Book is and that's important and the Rules are in it and I was supposed to find it. Agatha is going to come back here with Mr. Harcourt and we're going to have floats."

Tom nods and says, "And you let her go alone? If he's good, great, if he's not, well, you just sent her into the lions den." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, "I think we'd better go find them."

The younger boy starts taking off some of the extra layers of his clothes. It is a warm summer day, and even in the shadows, the contrast of the outdoor temperatures with Mirari's biting winter is quite marked.

Tom shakes his head slowly and adds, "Where is the book, anyway? If you do find it, we should hide it and present a fake one, just in case."

Kuon eyes Simon with great curiosity.

"He looks like Lord Eoin," explains the little girl as she shakes her head. "I mean, if I look really hard like when someone uses a Glamour. But it's not," she struggles to find the word, " ... the same. I don't know if he's a bad man or not. I didn't leave Agatha because I was sure, I did it because I thought trust is important. Um, because if he wants to be a good person then I think he should have a chance. Because even if he isn't, maybe, oh, maybe he'll want to be because someone was nice to him?"

Tom pats the girl's head and says, "You have much to learn about people, kid. Trust is all fine and good, but you're talking about Agatha's life here. It's not like you're waiting for him to return your favorite toy."

Simon, peeled down to just a loose long white shirt and floppy pants, looks up to notice Kuon's look. "Uh, nice dog," he offers, reaching out to pat the greyhound. His hand freezes as Kuon barks once at him. "Nice dog?"

"Lord Eoin came to Mirari because someone was sad," argues the little girl. "People died because John Harcourt was angry when Mirari was made and it endured. It's ... " She blinks when Kuon barks, frowns, and turns to the canine. "Is something wrong with Simon?"

Tom takes a long breath to calm down. "I would appreciate if you would complete a topic before moving on," he says slowly, then looks over at Simon.

Kuon gives Alice a reproving look that seems to say, He smells of underground and monsters.

Simon raises his hands. "I didn't do anything!" he says exasperatedly.

"Oh?" is Alice's reply to the look. She looks up and peers at Simon. "Are you okay Simon? You were kind of mad last time I saw you," she inquires. Then she peers at Thomas. "Was Simon really in the crypts?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story," Simon says apologetically.

"Yes, yes, as was I. We were allowed in to see the busts of the old kings and everything," Thomas says, "I'm sure I smell much like the crypts too."

"But Kuon didn't bark at you Tommy," explains Alice. "But you trust Simon right Tommy? That's good enough for me."

Kuon gives Thomas an intent look. Do you trust this boy? He has been with trolls and goblins.

Tom puts his hand on Alice's shoulder and says, "I trust him fine. Besides, I could clobber him if he tries anything." He grins briefly, then says, "Okay, if you're here to find the book, lets find it. There are a lot of people dying in the other world and time matters. Remember, time flows slower here."

"Yep," agrees Alice. "John Harcourt Junior is kind of like this. But weirder. Just so you know. Anyway! It's in the park somewhere. I think it's buried somewhere around the angel statue, because that's where the Mirari-side anchor is. Or maybe by the flag pole."

Kuon's subtle tilt of head suggests, Well, I'll abide by your decision. The greyhound wags his tail once, tentatively.

Simon lets out a breath. "Look, I think we all want what's best for Mirari," he says. "We're just getting there by different routes. So, did you bring a shovel, Alice?"

Thomas hmms, "Well, if I was hiding it, the simplest wouldbe to conceal it in the base of the statue, in a compartment. Don't you remember the Lord Protector scratched the base of the statue way back?"

"That's a good idea!" exclaims Alice. She nods enthusiastically. "The mark should still be there I think. If it isn't I'm pretty sure I remember where it was."

Tom unhooks his cloak and hides it in the bushes. "Okay, lets go look. Simon, would you keep a lookout? I don't want any surprises from the locals if they see us fiddling with the statue."

By way of answer to Simon's question Alice gestures at Kuon. "I brought a dog! They're way more fun than shovels."

Simon nods, then peeks out of the bushes. "Looks like Mrs. Christy is still eating lunch, Tom. I think she's going to notice if you go parading around in that chain mail."

Kuon barks and wags at Alice's comment in approval.

Tom grins and shrugs, "Costumes for the game. She won't be able to tell if it's real from there."

"Ohhhhh, right," adds Alice as if remembering something. "Could you all draw a lion on your hand or head on some place when you can? I need it for the magical mirror thingy. And I can try and Glamour up your costumes if you want. I've been dressed like this all day!" She waves at her courtly gown.

The younger boy shrugs. "Okay, but if they come and take you away to the insane asylum for pretending to be a Viking or something, see if I come and bring any fruit baskets for you." He grins wryly.

"I'll bring you fruit baskets," Alice reassures the black haired boy.

Tom taps the back of his hand. "Already done," he replies, then hmms. "I'll let you glamour, I want to have my mind free to focus and look for the compartment or whatever." He then politely reaches over and 'frogs' Simon's arm for the viking comment and says with a smirk, "I'd need a horned helmet to be mistaken for a viking."

"Ow! We could fix that," Simon retorts with a grin as he extricates his arm. "So where do you want me to keep a lookout?"

Alice reaches over and tugs Thomas's arm. "Well lets go then! I'm worried about my mother and the Palace. Unless maybe Simon can tell them to stop, which would be really handy," she says.

Thomas hmms, "Corner of the statue nearest the flagpole. Most people tend to enter from that way." He peeks out, then starts moving towards the statue.

"Bye Simon!" bids the princess as she tags along after Thomas.

Mrs. Christy, nearly done with her lunch, nibbles on a piece of rich-smelling carrot cake. "Well, hello, Thomas," she says as she catches sight of the wild-haired boy. "All dressed for your game, are you? Those must have come from the church sale! I never realized they had done such a wonderful job of making costumes." She smiles to Alice and to Simon as well.

Simon returns a wan smile as he goes to stand by the statue on the corner nearest the flagpole.

"Well, a bit of paint and some work and they looked better. silver paint does wonders," Thomas replies with a wave. "Don't mind us, we're just looking for a clue note that was stuck here somewhere."

"Tommy is Lord Explorer Tommy, and we're on a treasure hunt," explains Alice as she meanders over towards the statue.

"How mysterious!" Mrs. Christy beams. "But do be careful, there have been some strangers in town recently. Why, your poor grandmother took fright from one, and Mr. Jones had to drive her home! I heard about it from Pearl."

Thomas crouches near the base of the statue. "Did Pearl say what my grandmother saw?" Thomas asks as he peers at the base, his eyes tracing along the lines of the structure, looking for cracks.

"Oh," remarks Alice with what certainly sounds like guilt. "I heard about that stranger too. He's a bit mysterious too. But it wasn't his fault really." When she reaches the statue she reaches out and runs her finger along the base directly above the plaque. "Here, I think."

Thomas scoots over to the plaque. He reaches out and runs his fingertips along its edge, searching for perhaps things his eyes cannot see.

Mrs. Christy shakes her head. "Mabel said that it was only a heat stroke. But that new stranger was about, and so was Agatha with her new horse. Don't worry though, dear, Mr. Jones is seeing Mrs. Smith home, she'll be right as rain when she's had some time to rest out of this heat."

The plaque reads: Ainigton - founded 1848 - "Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared." - Exodus 23:20. It is a weathered bronze plaque, set into the stone of the pedestal base. The overhead sun leaves this face of the base in stark shadow.

Alice sticks her tongue out a little. "Not heat stroke," she corrects in whisper so just Thomas can hear her, "it was surprise. She fainted because we showed the Lord of Horses to her to convince her about the danger of John Harcourt. I'm really sorry too!"

Thomas nods quietly to Alice and hmms. He starts to push on each edge of the plaque, to see if it swings in or out, or perhaps pops up an edge.

"Boy you know I sit by this statue all the time, because it's my favorite one you know, and all this time the keywas right in front of me," continues the blonde girl nervously. "I feel terribly silly!"

"You are terribly silly," Thomas says with a straight face.

"I guess so," agrees Alice with a nod.

"You know, dear," Mrs. Christy says to Thomas as he fiddles with the plaque. "You really should think about trying out for the school drama! I'm sure that you would look wonderful on stage. And it would be a tremendous opportunity to learn more about the dramatic arts!"

Nothing obvious seems to have happened from the prodding of the plaque.

"Eh, I'd be a terrible actor. I mean, who'd ever believe me trying to act like a villain or hero, or whatnot," Thomas replies with a grin. He then looks at his side and places his hand on his dagger. He shifts positions to keep the plaque hidden from view and eases out his knife. "Don't let her look this way too much, Alice," he whispers. "I'm going to see if I can peek under the plaque."

"Tommy is very dramatic, maybe he could even be melodramatic!" agrees Alice. She leans over to peer at what Thomas is reading, wrinkles her brow, then suggests, "Maybe I should try first? I does say an Angel. And that's my name too."

Mrs. Christy clucks. "Now, now, dear. It would be a wonderful experience for you, and if you plan on a career in politics, why, it would give you an introduction to public speaking!"

Tom shudders. "I don't like politics," Thomas replies with a grunt.

"Oh, I don't think Tommy likes politics very much," offers Alice doubtfully.

Tom nudges Alice and whispers, "See if you can get a nail under the plaque or something. It does move a bit." He tucks his knife back away and hmms.

Mrs. Christy looks disappointed. "Politics are only one of many venues through which one may express one's passions," she lectures. "Why, you could be a poet, or an actor! 'The play's the thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.' Hamlet."

"I'll try," agrees Alice. She reaches over and fumbles with the edges before she gets a good grip. Carefully she tries to see if the plaque will give way and not break her nails in doing so. "I feel kind of bad about this. I really like this statue, and I don't like taking it a part. You know the plaque does say that it put an Angel before you. And if it's not in here then maybe it's under the bench where I sit."

Tom smirks and glances over his shoulder. "I'd rather run the deep jungles, exploring old ruins, or chasing down wild and exotic animals," he replies.

Mrs. Christy appears at first to be drawn to Alice's fiddling with the plaque, but then surprised by Thomas's reply, she returns her gaze to him as Alice tries to work a nail underneath the edge of the plaque. "An archaeologist, perhaps, Thomas? There may still be times when you'll be called upon to give lectures to the public." She laughs. "But look at me, I sound as if I were pressuring you to join the school play! It is quite all right if you don't wish to."

Tom ehs. "I'll hire someone to talk for me," he says with a grin.

It seems at first as if Alice's nail has gotten jammed in underneath the edge of the plaque and that there will be no way to avoid breaking it to get free of it... But then, she manages to find just the right direction in which to pull it free again. Trying again, the little girl finds something that feels to her like a catch. The plaque gives slightly.

Mrs. Christy tuts. "There are occasions when you really must... Alice, what are you doing?"

"I don't think I've very good at this," whispers Alice as she fiddles with the plaque. The girl winces as she first twists her nail sorely, then scrapes it, and manages to get a nail caught again as she tries to manipulate the catch and release the hold. "Really, I think this wasn't a very good idea at all."

Tom turns and looks at Alice, "Alice! Are you trying to file your nails on the statue? that might mar it, you know!" He puts his hands on his hips and eyes the little girl.

The plaque moves a little, but it seems as if there must be at least one other catch holding it in place.

Alice twists enough to give Thomas a 'you're not helping at all' expression while sticking her tongue out. Then she turns back to her work, tugs, and frowns. She whispers back to the boy, "I think maybe there's, um, two things here and I can only release this one. Could you get the other one Tommy? Because I think I'm not going to be able to reach it."

Mrs. Christy sets down the plate that holds the last bite of her carrot cake. "Is there something wrong? Did you catch your nail on the plaque, dear?" she says as she stands up.

"I was trying to catch the catch, but the catch caught me instead," explains the blonde.

Tom sticks his hand in his pouch and digs for a piece of paper. "We were supposed to find a note here, you know, for treasure hunting. I asked her to see if she could feel it right under the edge of the plaque because I can't, but instead she seems to have scraped her nail along it instead in an attempt to file it or something. I better see if she damaged the plaque," Thomas says with a grumble and eyes the girl for what she just admitted.

Mrs. Christy shakes her head disapprovingly, then beckons to the young girl. "Well, Alice, I have a nail file if you'd like to borrow it," she says. "Why don't you come sit down with me, and I'll fix your nail for you?"

The little girl glances back, then to the plaque, and then to the woman again. "Okay!" she agrees after a moment to consider her options. But before she removes her nail she waits for Thomas to look her way again and taps the spot over one of her nails with her free hand. "It got caught here," she tells him, "but I think it's loose now." And then she removes her hand.

Mrs. Christy clucks. "You really must be more careful, Alice," she lectures as she leads the girl back to the bench and fishes out a nail file to start smoothing down the roughened edge of the nail. "What sort of game are you playing with Thomas? A treasure hunt, did he say?"

Tom digs around a moment longer, and pulls out a sheet of paper. He folds it lengthwise once, then again and presses it as flat as he can. "I should have thought of this earlier. I could just push the note out with another piece of paper. I'll get Agatha for sticking it all the way under," he grumbles. He then starts working the flattened paper under the plaque on the side opposite Alice indicated and starts to slide slowly.

"Yep, we're trying to save the faerie kingdom from the Year's End," replies the girl. "And we need to find the mysterious Book. Only we're not sure where it is, but we're pretty sure it's not in the library. Or if it is it would be checked out because it's the lost Book after all."

"How marvelous!" Mrs. Christy says, her attention focused on the nail. "Do you suppose it might be in Kia's Restoration? She does have many old books there."

The paper sticks without going beneath the plaque.

Tom grumbles. He tries to flatten out the paper against the statue base and slide it under the edge again. "Hateful. I'm going to bop whomever built this thing," he mutters to himself.

Alice shakes her head in doubt. "Nope! I looked at the old books a week or two ago, I'm not sure which -- time sure is funny in faerie kingdoms! -- and I don't think it's there. That wouldn't be very secret anyway," the girl replies. "And you know what? We found a magic mirror!"

Flattening the paper seems to have helped, though it appears that the plaque has a lip and a portion which goes into the stone. The paper snags in one... Two places. These must be the catches. But placed as the catches are, two on top and one on bottom, it won't be easy to press them all in at the same time.

Mrs. Christy smiles. "Really! How do you know this mirror is magic?"

"A sorceress told me so," Alice explains.

Tom twitches. He digs in his pack and produces another sheet. "Maybe if I slide one under each side, I can press the catches all at once by pushing them in firmly," he mutters to himself.

"Well! If she said so, it must be so, but who is she?" Mrs. Christy takes out a small bottle of nail polish and starts touching up Alice's nails.

A little fiddling suggests that Thomas is going to need another hand at the least.

"Hey Simon! Can you come over here and give me a hand? I've allllmost got it," he shouts.

"Rebecca! Well, her real name is Lady Sorceress Nymuae. Rebecca is just her mortal name when she was in the mortal world," elaborates the little girl. "She's this," she holds her unmarred hand way up, " ... tall, and she's very pretty, and her hair is black not red and she can do magic."

Simon looks up. "What? Sure, Tom," he says, walking over.

Tom taps one of the bits of paper. "I need you to press in with this, while I press in with the other on the opposite side. That's all. We need to do it in unison to get what we need," Thomas replies with a glance toward Alice.

The English teacher smiles. "Oh, Rebecca! She was one of my best students. I can tell that she'll go far. Isn't she on an exchange program now? Ruritania, wasn't it?"

"I sure know where I'd like to send her," Thomas mutters.

Simon nods and works his piece of paper in on one side. "Seems a little flimsy," he whispers. "This would go better if we had something really thin, like a nail file, or a knife."

"She's really in Mirari, which is the faerie world she's really from," corrects Alice. "In fact Mirari wasn't always a faerie world. Back before the crowning of the first King it was, um," she waves her free hand vaguely, " ... chaos. But then some of the chaos decided it didn't want to be chaos anymore, and so they came to the mortal realm -- that's here -- and made a world from the imagination of the boys and girls who played their game. Only one little boy didn't get along very well. And it's very, very sad. he became the bad guy. And now the bad guy is trying to destroy Mirari again."

"My knife won't fit, I checked. As for the file ... hmm. Well, let me try something," Thomas whispers. "Mrs. Christy, can we borrow the file for a moment? Do you perhaps have two? Our clue is really wedged under here and I want to ease it out without damaging anything. We need something strong and thin," he says.

Alice goes on to explain the details of Mirari. What happened around the time of the first King, some events after, the Houses, their infighting, how neat the Palace is and so on in one nearly breathless continuing lecture. She only pauses long enough to let Thomas slip in his request before she continues on again.

"That's very tragic! You should think about becoming a writer, Alice," Mrs. Christy suggests as she finishes applying nail polish. "There, now let that dry for an hour, and they'll be better than ever-- oh, Thomas! Well, you may, but please do be careful, some vandal scratched the statue some weeks ago! You can still see the scratch on it." She offers the nail file up.

"Simon, go fetch that?" Thomas asks, not wanting the teacher to get too close a look at his clothing. "Yeah, I remember. It happened back when school was still in session. Alice showed us after class that day."

Simon fetches the nail file, but it seems as if Mrs. Christy is inclined to stand and follow him as well, to keep an eye on things. "My, are you dressed as one of the Merry Men?" she inquires of the younger boy. "Your mother did a wonderful job with your clothes!" This inspires an agonized look from Simon to Tom.

"It is very tragic," agrees Alice as she wiggles her nails in the air to help them dry. "And I'd like to write! Tommy thinks I'm silly, and well I must be because everyone says so, so maybe I could write silly stories. Or stories about faeries. I know all about faeries! I was a handmaiden to the Queen at court and I even had to do some politics! It's very hard."

Kuon stands nearby, watching the proceedings with anxiety. His eyes occasionally stray across the perimeter of the park, then back to the others.

"I also want to be a healer! I wanted to do magic, too, but you can't do magic and be a healer. They don't work together you know," the girl continues on. "You can't do magic and be a Queen either. But I don't think I have to be Queen now anyway." She stands up to follow Mrs. Christy so as to explain better.

Tom doesn't say anything, he only smirks. He glances over to Alice, then nods slightly at Mrs. Christy. "Okay, Simon, see if you can fit it under that side, and I'll tackle this one. Lets work this thing out carefully shall we?"

Mrs. Christy says distractedly, "Well, certainly you don't have to be Queen anymore, Alice, but it seems to me that your Fairyland has a great many rules. Did you make them all up yourself, or did Thomas and Simon and Rebecca help as well?"

"Oh!" exclaims Alice as she hurries over to Mrs. Christy side. She tugs her arm to get her attention. "Well see the rules are all written in a big book. But we didn't write them. You do remember when I said the boys and girls made Mirari? Well they're the ones who wrote the rules and we just follow them. Sometimes we make our own by accident, and sometimes because we have to."

"Are you listening to me Mrs. Christy? Because faerie rules are very important. You never know when you'll be taken to a faerie kingdom," insists the little girl.

The English teacher's eyes are distracted from Thomas and Simon by Alice's timely intervention, long enough for Thomas to pop the plaque free without a sound. Inside the revealed compartment are two books, one a cracked brown leather-bound book sealed with a buckle, the other a black leather tome that looks familiar to Thomas. Dust rises with a puff of stale air. Simon's breath catches. "Is that it?" he whispers.

Tom nods slightly and whispers, "One's probably a book about the city, the other should be the one we want." Thomas tries to fit his fingers into the recess and pull the black book out quietly.

Mrs. Christy smiles at Alice. "No, dear, I don't think that I'm likely to go to a faerie kingdom very soon. It's a sport of children, alas, we old ladies are far too set in our ways to change."

Alice glances at what the two boys are doing briefly before she continues on with her distraction. "Aww that's not true," she insists. "There are lots of faeries who have lived a very long time in faerie-Years, and they wouldn't say they're too old to be faeries. Rebecca told me she was too old for faeries too, and then she went to the faerie world. You're never too old for faeries and imagination."

Not a sound other than Alice's chattering disturbs the park as Thomas slides the black book out from the brown one. It feels heavy in his hands.

Tom looks over the front cover to see if there's any writing, then peeks under the cover to check there as well.

Mrs. Christy's glance almost follows Alice's, a look of concern crossing her face, but as the young girl starts up again, she patiently turns back to her again. "Are your faeries immortal, then, Alice? Or do they only live for a long time?"

"Well," hesitates Alice, " ... some of them live only a little while, and some live a long time. Faerie-time isn't like mortal-time. It's, um, faster. Some faeries live several Years and Years are like, um, whole lifetimes be faerie measure. But I think we want to change that rule. It's not very good when, when your ... your friends are faeries and you're far away from them too long. And Kings can only rule for a Year, and that's not good at all."

"Oh dear, Alice, but sometimes you must have tragedy," Mrs. Christy says with a sad smile. "Joy cannot be named without sorrow, heroes cannot be made without conflicts and trials that they have passed, and there is no great story but has a great opponent that must be overcome. But in the end..." She lets her sadness slip away. "In the end, it is always for the better, Alice, and we learn from our struggles."

The book smells of ancient paper, stored in a dry place sealed by the plaque from the elements, and the crackling of the pages threatens to catch Mrs. Christy's attention again. The black letters on the pale creamy pages have been written in a graceful hand: "The First Rule of Mirari: The Rules laid within this volume, as set forth by Lord Eoin of January, Lady Angelique of April, and Lord Bram of October, are the True and Proper Rules of Mirari. As such, they may not be amended, controverted, or altered, except as described hereinafter."

Thomas gingerly closes the book and whispers, "Simon, slip the plaque back in quietly, we've got what we needed. We've already spent far too much time here wit her around."

"I sure hope so," says Alice in reply to the teachers words. "I hope even though the story is sad that is has a happy ending. I really do. I want to think even the bad guys will learn something, and that they're want to be good. I think I understand about conflict and so, but, I don't really want anyone to be unhappy."

Mrs. Christy nods understandingly. "Oh, dear! If I could keep people from being unhappy without a reason, I would, but every time I see the look on people's faces when I assign homework, I have to remind myself that it's for their own good." She laughs.

Simon tries to quietly ease the plaque back into place, but the metallic chink! of the catches going home catches Mrs. Christy's attention. She looks around to the boys.

"Well! Have you got what you needed, Thomas?" Mrs. Christy asks, finding nothing obviously out of place. Simon looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

Tom turns to hide the book as best he can. "Sure did!" he replies and holds up his bit of paper. Got the note and map! Simon, hand back her file, would you?; I'll go fetch our stuff!" Thomas then starts a quick beeline toward the bushes!

Simon does so. "Thank you, Mrs. Christy!" he says, then follows Thomas.

"Well, that sure was happy," remarks Alice cheerily. "I think I better follow them so ... " she steps in their general direction, " ... I don't get lost following! Um, bye Mrs. Christy!" The little girl takes a few more steps away. "Thanks for listening, and for my nails!" She waves and then she's off.

The older woman shakes her head. "Boys! Run along then, Alice, but do please be careful running around in the brush with your dress! Mrs. Westfield would be very put out if you ruined such a fine dress."

Thomas charges off in his usual maniac style. "Whoohah!" he shouts and does a leap over the bushes and promptly plops down on the other side. "I'm going to sooo smack the Lord Protector for putting the book there," he grumbles, and waits for the others.

"Okay, spill it. What did you do to my Grandmother?" Thomas asks to Alice as he's packing the book out of sight. "And did Kia's have any large black books? I want to grab something that looks similar. Man, I should have taken the once from the crypt."

Kuon licks Alice's hands and flops out on the grass as he watches the others. That went well, his face and wagging seem to say.

Simon gasps for breath, sitting up on the ground, then holds his hand out to Thomas. "I want to see this book," he says. "Besides, I get to hold onto it, right?"

"Um," begins Alice as she carefully removes a burr from her gown, " ... well, see, we were worried about the book and your Grandmother. But she didn't believe us when we said John Harcourt wa-" She giggles at the lick and seems to momentarily lose her train of thought. "Was? Oh, yes, was bad news. See he got to your Grandmother before we did and she was going to show him the book first. And we just didn't want that to happen. You know why. And we weren't doing very well convincing her either so we tried revealing ourselves as proof of Mirari. Then we revealed Ahearn and she didn't take that very well."

Tom eyes the girl, "What happened to her?"

Tom nods to Simon a moment later, "In a moment. And remember, if you hold the book, I hold onto you..."

"She fainted," Alice clarifies nervously. "We were really sorry too! We didn't think that would happen. I did everything I could to help her, and she'll be okay. No worries."

"Can I hold the book too?" asks Alice after she's down with her explanation. "You don't need to hold me. I can't run very fast in a dress anyway!"

Tom shakes his head. "We should check on her," he says.

The younger boy grins at Tom. "Sure, I just want to make sure I'm not going to get left behind somewhere inconvenient."

Tom glances at Simon and says, "Oh, come on. I never leave anyone behind. You know that."

"So if I get this right, you made Mrs. Smith faint? And who is this Ahearn?" asks Simon.

"Well not me! Agatha. But I was there, so it's my fault too. I should have been better. I can't at all abide seeing anyone hurt, and it's just not acceptable when I'm part of it," Alice tells Simon. She pouts. "And I'm really sorry. I feel awful about it. I don't think I'll feel better until I tell her I'm sorry. Maybe I should bake her cookies."

Simon grins wryly to Tom. "Well, okay, maybe I'm just being paranoid. It's been a tough week."

Tom grins to Simon and pats the pack, "You can carry the pack, no worries. I just want the book out of sight while we're in public, okay?" he says. "Maybe we should make a quick detour by her place and make sure she's okay."

Alice shakes her head, saying, "I don't think I can make cookies that fast."

Tom rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Simon nods. "I don't think I've met Mrs. Smith, but that sounds like a good thing to do, Tom. But what if Agatha comes looking for us? Alice, didn't you say that she was going to meet you here?"

Alice nods a little. "I'm supposed to find the book at wait outside Foxworthy's," she answers.

Kuon gives Alice the 'Do I get some of your ice cream?' look.

The blonde pats the dogs head, answering, "Of course you do! Well, if I get some."

Tom thinks for a moment. "You know, having my Grandmother with us might be a good thing. She helped form Mirari to begin with. Perhaps we should offer to let her help us repair it now. Correct the mistakes they made as kids; asort of farewell gesture to her old friends, the Harcourts," he suggests.

"But it sounded like she wasn't taking too well to talk of Mirari," Simon says, throwing a questioning look to Alice. "What did she say?"

"Um, well, see, I kind of guessed where the book was on something your Grandmother said. I'm not sure she'd be very happy to see we have it now. She didn't want anyone to know where it was really, but what with Mirari and my mother in trouble and all I went to look for it anyway," Alice elaborates. "Plus as a healer I think she really should lay down a while. All the secrets of the book, plus all of us and the truth, well, that wouldn't be good for her. She doesn't want to believe."

Tom waves a hand. "Fine, fine. We won't bother her then," he says. "Can we at least look for a book we can pass offas the real one, just in case, first? I like having backup plans."

"It's a very sad story anyway," continues Alice with a frown. She reaches over to scoop Kuon in a hug as she goes on. "See, the original John Harcourt broke Anastasia's pegasus statue. Couldn't be fixed! So they never forgave him. Not even in Mirari. And, um, well, years later in real life John Harcourt ... died. And I don't think she wants to remember that either."

Kuon squirms! After a bit, he seems to find a comfortable position and just settles in, wagging, dog-breath tickling Alice's shoulder.

"Okay," Alice agrees with a nod. "Maybe we can get one on the way to Foxworthy's. Simon," she looks to him, " ... did you meet Lord Eoin in person? Maybe you can help me try andfigure out John Harcourt Junior's ... um, his link to Lord Eoin. I think maybe it's part of his sadness and raisin-mint."

Thomas stands. "All right then; lets get moving," he says. He then holds out the pack to Simon and adds, "And here. I promised."

Alice rises to her feet and dusts off the bits of grass and dog hair that cling to her. "Don't forget to mark yourself with a lion too if you haven't yet. I'm not sure we'll need it, but better to be sure," she says.

Simon nods. "He was posing as the Lord April for a while, but he came clean to me, and told me about what he was really doing, about how it's the Rules that force him to be the villain, but always to be defeated in the end. And I think he's right. I know I'd be driven insane if invisible Rules were making me do hideous things, just because it entertained people," he says soberly. "We should think twice whether we even want to keep these Rules. No matter what laws anyone makes, there can always be a dark side to them."

The younger boy shakes his head, and then looks up to Tom. "Thanks," he says with a smile, accepting the pack. "Thanks for trusting me." He stands to follow Thomas.

"We just have to work them out as a group. No one person can see all ends," Thomas replies. "We can figure out something. It won't be a paradise, nothing ever is. But, I hope it will be a future where people can pursue their dreams and hopes." He tosses his cloak up on his shoulder and walks off, with a glance back towards his companions.

"That sounds a lot like John Harcourt Junior really," muses Alice. She tilts her head and seems to think on it. "Yes, that's exactly what John Harcourt Junior felt like. I think I understand now. It's just what he said, and what I saw in him." She breaks in to a smile. "Now I feel better for trusting him too. I told him he doesn't have to be the bad guy anymore." And with that she turns to follow Thomas's lead.

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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.