Meet The Rummages

"Delighted for you," said the gnome. "Couldn't be more so. Absolutely. Delighted. However, I do feel that the full spectrum of experience associated with the word 'adventure' has now been thoroughly fulfilled. I don't want to appear rude but I have a whole existence to be getting on with. There's a meadow in a quaint little shadow not too far away by bridge and I would very much like to live my life there starting, oh, well, as soon as possible."

"I don't think now is the time, honestly," Eos said. "Can't you see that James is unwell?"

"Unwell?" the gnome said as if he honestly hadn't noticed. The little sprite turned his attention to the former mouse, now a tall man hunched over and sitting on a tea chest being fussed over by Rachel and Rebecca. Lester watched on, not really certain what to think.

"Then there was a morning in winter, my mother had a cold," James said. His words floated up from his chest through the arms he had folded on his knees. His head was buried in this little cocoon, his words having the lilt of delirium. "Porridge on the hob, good boy, helpful boy, porridge is easy. Burned so badly to the bottom of the pan mum had to throw it out. Scrap metal for the scrap metal man. Lots you can do with scrap. Got to be able to melt it, to shape it. Not my department. Call an engineer!"

"He'll be fine," the gnome said. "I have a good ear for mischief. Whatever's happening I think it's temporary."

"You know what's wrong with him?" Rachel asked, turning her full attention in his direction.

Although the gnome had wanted Rachel's whole attention, and everyone else's, not moments ago, now it looked extremely uncomfortable. No doubt it would have been fine to have everyone looking in the gnome's direction to discuss the gnome's requirements and demands. The probem here was that now the gnome had cast himself in the role of advisor, such a role stood in the way of attention to requirements and demands.

Lester had to admit that he could understand that feeling completely. He was awash with unsuitable emotions at the moment. Fear of abandonment, sadness at the meandering aimlessness of his journey, irritation that he had spent so long on a road that provided no more than a diversion from Lester's own concerns, guilt that he felt anything other than concern about James's well-being.

Maybe if he could work his way up to a good session of delirious ranting he would be okay afterwards, Lester reflected. There didn't appear to be any other appropriate way of communicating his own feelings of loss that didn't seem self-indulgent and whiny.

Not that he would have had a problem with being self-indulgent and whiny if that had been a layer in a complex personality, but it wasn't. Lester was beginning to realise that when it came to personality self-indulgent and whiny pretty much summed him up. Oh, and meek, and directionless, and not much use.

Look at the gnome. On the one hand it was here demanding stuff when another person was in dire straits not five feet away. The sprite somehow managed to act as if it was oblivious to this while stamping its foot and carrying on like it was the only being that mattered in the whole of Faerie. On the other hand at least the gnome had some sort of motivational through-line. At least it was a force to be reckoned with.

Lester stood in the corner and didn't know what to think and tried not to be any bother. At least he wasn't any bother. At the same time he was becoming extremely tired of not being any use, either. His head was actually starting to throb at the concept of his own complete irrelevance to everything. On his travels he had met knights and magicians, merchants and royalty, what had he ever been through any of it? He had been Lester who could lend a hand with anything not too difficult.

Lester promised himself that as soon as equilbrium was restored he would rock the boat a bit, he would upset the apple cart. He would make his presence felt. Not so felt that people lost their tempers or anything, just felt enough to make Lester feel less on the edges of everything.

"Uh, well," the gnome said. Lester marvelled that he'd managed to fit all that thinking into the space between the gnome becoming awkward and deciding what to say next. "I can see that a lot of what's happened to James... ah, your father, is as a result of mischief casually melting away some deeper enchantments."

"What do you mean 'deeper enchantments'?" Rachel asked.

"Anything mischievous, I can detect," the gnome said. Although it was plain that there would be a time to talk further on the gnome's wish list, for now he was relishing the role of 'expert'. "But I couldn't tell that your dad was enchanted, not when we first met, he just looked like a mouse. A normal mouse. Oh, yes, he could talk, but that isn't such a big deal, you know."

"So what does that mean?" Rachel asked.

"It means that the magic that transformed James into the mouse was very complex and meant to bind. I'm not entirely sure that he was supposed to forget that he was a man, or your dad, or whatever, but I think that's a separate enchantment, after all, you don't remember much about before being in the Skull Garden either, do you?"

"No," Rachel said. "Honestly, I still don't."

"When we took you there," Rebecca said. "You were very young, I wouldn't be at all surprised if you didn't remember what happened before. I forgot everything while I was in the garden too. I only began to remember when I left, and then, well, I got dispersed."

"So you see," the gnome said, inserting himself back into the conversation, determined to monopolise everyone's attention. "The effects of the garden are slow and deep, but not permanent. I wouldn't advise anyone to remain there for too long, could get tricky."

"So how long before Ja- my dad, is back to normal?" Rachel asked.

The gnome got half way into a shrug before James himself broke into the conversation:

"They were all in the castle when the storm came!" he said. "There was the dragon and the frog. They weren't alone. They thought they were. But the mouse was careful. It stayed out of sight. Mice can hide, best hide, best way to stay out of the way. Not like the man who went to see the master of mischief, no. Desperate man, clever man, but desperate, confused. Needed to find his brother, needed to find a way to his brother, not just a disguise you see... really. Because you can't have two mice. Don't you see? Two mice are always bad. Two bad mice."

James looked around at the assembled group, who were all still trying to unravel this stilted dialogue. All except for Lester.

In the couple of seconds it usually took him to lose the initiative Lester realised that no-one had said anything, further, he realised that he had something to say.

"Are you telling me that I went to the master of mischief?" he asked James.

James's glowing, beatific expression dropped into one of deep disappointment.

"That's what you took from that?" he asked.

"It's me, isn't it? You're not the only one who's had their memory messed with," Lester said. "I am looking for my brother and... the man in the tall hat, he is the master of mischief."

"Oh, yes," the gnome chipped in. "That's the boss, Loki, everyone knows that."

Everyone looked at the gnome.

"Well," the gnome corrected himself, gruffly. "I thought everyone knew that."

"It has to be said," Eos said. "I'm sure there are lots of people who have looked for a missing brother through history. I heard a story myself about a man who went to Loki asking for help with a missing brother. I heard it when I was a girl. That story obviously isn't about you, Lester."

"And in the story," Lester asked Eos, feeling more purpose than he could ever remember having felt before. "What did the master of mischief tell the man to do?"

"Loki sent the man to death's garden with a spade. When he dug the ground he found all of his brother's secrets. I always thought it was a metaphor."

"Are you saying you think my brother is dead?" Lester asked.

"I'm saying that I think the brother of the man in the story was dead," Eos said. "We've already established that it wasn't you."

Lester's scalp had started to tingle as all the elements came together: frequent encounters with the master of Mischief, adventuring with escapees from the garden of death, stories about secrets buried in that garden. It didn't really matter what Eos said, Lester knew what he felt about his recent experiences. Everything was just beginning to make sense and Lester wasn't going to let that stop.

"We need to go to the Skull Garden, right now," Lester said.

"Oh, at last, thank you!" the gnome cried in agreement.

"Lester..." Eos said, the first chiming note of dissent.

"No, Eos," Lester said. "I know what I feel, for once, and what I feel is that my brother is in the Skull Garden."

"If he is then, surely, he's dead," Eos said. "Do you believe that Lester?"

"If he's dead then that's what he is," Lester said. "But if I've learned one thing about Chester these last few months it's that he is a man who is rarely where you thought he was and seldom what he seems."

"I know a way," Rebecca said. "But... should we all go?"

"You have to all go," the gnome said. "I need you there, so I can be free."

"Well, technically that's just me and dad," Rachel said, the little pause where she changed 'James' to 'dad' still noticeable but less so than it had been.

"You don't understand," Rebecca said. "We might forget who we are, that's what the Skull Garden does."

"It's a powerful magic," the gnome said. "But it is built to endure. It would take weeks, maybe months to forget everything completely. You can go long enough to set me free, then you can leave."

"But we never could," Rachel said. "You could not reach the edge before the bat would leave the Skull Cave, it would get us all."

"We can fend off a single bat," Lester said.

"It's a giant bat," Rachel pointed out.

"We've done it before," Lester insisted.

"I think you'll find that was Frederick," Eos said.

"So. What?" Lester asked. "We're going to all just give up? The gnome is enslaved to this wish forever? I never find out what happened to my brother?"

"Now hang on just a minute!" the gnome cried out, anxious at the possibility of never being the master of his own destiny.

"I can get us out," Rebecca said. "I got out before, but I'm worried about James. He hasn't recovered from leaving the garden yet. I think it's the mouse enchantment, he's so confused."

"I think," Eos said. "That we shall have to wait until James is maybe a little better, but at that point we shall ask Rebecca to take us to the garden and then we shall see what is what."

And that is exactly what they did, but what they found when they returned to the Skull Garden for the very last time is a story for another day.

Avan Weatherstrong and the Impostor Prince

This is a tale of the days that followed Avan Weatherstrong's loss of the shapeshifter maid Kal'Hath. Prince Weatherstrong had never previously been given to strong moods, particularly not to sadness. In the case where one has just lost first love such tempestuous emotions are unavoidable.

Avan and Kal'Hath had journied together, fought evil together and had cultivated a love born out of mutual respect and absolute trust. Such a combination of emotions, promises and actions is rare in the world and the loss of such a love would possibly have overwhelmed a lesser man.

Prince Weatherstrong determined, even as he left behind the ragblossom tree marking the grave of Kal'Hath, that he must immediately work again in his continuing efforts to vanquish evil wherever he found it. By doing what is right he would honour the memory of Kal'Hath and remind himself of his destiny in life.

His opportunity to make a difference came up even before he left the Wylde Wood. A storm was blowing its way through the tall trees of the forest as Avan came upon a tree kingdom populated by a variety of sylphs and nymphs. As a prince, bearing a seal of the Hundred Kingdoms, Avan was received by the ruler of the kingdom, Lord Barkspry.

Avan had fully intended to take shelter from the storm with the Lord, thank him for his hospitality and be along his way when the weather had cleared. As Avan was shown to his room within the Lord's grand treedwelling he observed that preparations were being made for a celebration. It so happened that Lord Barkspry's daughter was to be married the very next day to the prince of a neighbouring kingdom.

Prince Weatherstrong was in entirely the wrong mood for a wedding celebration and hoped that the storm would be clear by morning. He retired to his room in order to rest. No sooner had he got his bearings in the large state room he had been allocated, within the bole of the major dwelling, than there was a knock upon the door.

Avan opened the door to see a young female nymph, an expression of troubled concern upon her face.

"You are the wandering prince to whom my father has offered his hospitality?" the nymph asked.

"Prince Avan of Weatherstrong, youngest of the nine, traveller upon the fringes, mage of the four winds," Avan replied, giving his full title, as was proper in formal situations.

"Princess Aurea Barkspry, first and only, faithful to the realm, most glorified bud upon the branches," the princess responded with her own title. "Prince Weatherstrong, I am in trouble, I believe you may be the only one who can help."

Upon hearing that sentence spoken Avan had a startling realisation. The weariness that he had felt bone-deep dissolved and he understood, in that instant, that it was not rest he required. The thought of helping another person instantly reinvigorated him, making him keen to know more.

Avan closed the door to his quarters and indicated that the princess should sit down.

"Please, Princess Barkspry," Avan said. "Tell me what you need."

"I do not believe that I will marry my betrothed tomorrow," Princess Barkspry said. "I believe that the man pretending to be my love is, in fact, a frog."

To many people the notion that a handsome prince could be a frog in disguise might stretch credulity. Of course, Avan Weatherstrong knew that for every thing that was there was the opposite thing also. A prince could be transformed into a frog, the common knowledge of the enchantment actually made it a fairly easy piece of mischief to work. For the reverse to be achieved would be no more difficult, the same communal notion that eased the transition of monarchy into amphibian would actually assist in the achievement of the reverse enchantment.

"Why do you think this to be the case?" Avan asked, his voice gentle.

"The realm of Barkspry has, for the longest time had problems with attacks from a particularly nasty witch Lilith Snakescale. She wants to harness the power in the roots of the major dwelling for her own dark purposes. We have managed to repel three separate attacks from lizard men, trolls and other creatures Lilith has bent to her will. I do not think she is content to try the direct approach again. I believe she intends to usurp the throne by marrying me to a puppet under her control."

"I understand your concerns," Avan said carefully. "But without any actual evidence is it not possible this is just a particularly bad manifestation of wedding nerves?"

"I know one thing," Princess Barkspry said. "My beloved Prince Azureleaf is a keen bowman, he never misses a day's archery practice, until about three weeks ago, he came back from the shooting range and hasn't returned to it since."

"He might be too busy preparing for the wedding," Avan pointed out.

"It could be, but he has also completely avoided contact with me in that time, we used to speak every day," the princess said. "It is a rare thing in a royal match for there to be genuine love and affection but this is what had grown between my prince and I. I do not believe this change in character has an innocent explanation."

"Maybe not," Avan said. "Your wedding day is tomorrow, why did you wait until I arrived to tell anyone of your concerns? Now you have, why did you choose me?"

"You are not the first person I chose," the princess said. "When I first became worried, just over a week ago, when I had not seen Larix for nearly five whole days, I went and confided in Petunia, my Lady's Maid. Petunia has been with me since I was born, she used to be my nanny, there is no one in the world I trust more than her. She said she would speak with Larix, find out what was happening. She went to see him that afternoon, that is the last anyone here in Barkspry has seen of her to this day.

"When Petunia went missing I went to the chief knight here at the major dwelling, he sent a soldier to look for Petunia. After three days he was found in the woods, savaged by a bear."

"So, you believe that the people of the realm are being watched, prevented from interfering?" Avan asked.

"I hope that, as you are just passing by, whatever enchantment may have cursed my fellow Sprys has not similarly afflicted you," the princess replied. "Otherwise I may, unfortunately, have doomed you as well."

"Death and I have an understanding," Avan said. "I do not believe that here is where we are next appointed to meet."

"So," Princess Barkspry said. "Will you help?"

"I am here taking advantage of your father's hospitality," Avan said. "I can hardly refuse. Besides, I have experienced too much sadness recently. I need occupation for my mind. If I can assist in the resolution of a matter involving true love then so much the better."

Thus, the princess pleased and Avan informed of the situation the pair went their separate ways. As Lilith Snakescale, if the prince's strange humour was her responsibility, had shifted her tactics from open hostility to silent coup Avan determined to meet her tactics appropriately.

Avan was not used to working an invisibility spell, he preferred to be direct in his dealings with friend and enemy alike. In this case the working would be a matter of discretion and good manners, in addition to being a battle strategy. Even so, Avan was dismayed to note that his working was not subtle enough to completely conceal him, he, rather appeared as a faint ghostly image before a looking glass. A further enchantment that coloured all the visible parts of his body, those that were caught in the strongest light, a dark grey and he was ready to begin his investigation.

Walking around the dwelling grounds Avan took the opportunity to familiarise himself with his new aspect, to minimise the chances of being spotted later on. He found that if he simply tried to stay out of people's way and was attentive to changes in the focus of those nearby he was as near to invisible as made no difference.

Once he was confident that he could move swiftly and silently about the major dwelling he proceeded to the guest branches of the tree and sought out Prince Azureleaf's quarters. The investigation was temporarily thwarted when Avan found the rooms empty upon his arrival. Avan took the opportunity to examine the prince's rooms and noted, with some interest, the large bathing pool, filled even whilst the room was empty. Several lily pads floated on the surface of the pool's water. Unusual decoration, unless it was intended to invoke a less domestic environment.

While Prince Weatherstrong was considering the pool the idea occurred to him that, if the prince really were a frog in disguise, the transformative element would possibly leave some kind of detectable residue behind. For a frog to be completely transformed into a copy of the prince would probably require the use of some heavily enchanted item. A spell such as Avan's cloaking enchantment could wear off at the wrong moment, ruining the plan.

Avan worked a subtle vision cantrip allowing him to spot patterns of heavy enchantment and, sure enough, a web of gold appeared in the room at around waist height, the trail of the item as it followed the prince back and forth about his business.

Avan followed the golden thread out of the room. Unfortunately, given three weeks, the impostor had gone in several directions out of the room about his business in the major dwelling. Avan followed the thread that seemed the brightest, hoping it would lead him to the impostor's location.

The thread wound through several passages away from the main throughfares of the major dwelling. It appeared that the impostor was about stealthy business himself. Eventually the trail led down to a staircase leading below the roots of the major dwelling deep under the earth.

The thread continued on its path through an underground drainage network built to help irrigate the dwellings of Leafspry. A door in one wall stood open and the thread continued on into a natural fissure in the earth and down in to a dark cave.

It was here that Avan found the impostor, and also the prince, chained up in a cage suspended from the vaulted ceiling of the cave. A complex witch's altar was set up to one side of the cave, the impostor stood before it conversing with a woman with light blue-purple skin, presumably Lilith Snakescale.

"I did not summon you here to complain about dry skin," the witch complained to her servant. "I summoned you here to receive the working that I have laboured hard to complete this last month."

"I am sorry mother," the impostor said. "It has just been so long since I have immersed my self in water and sung the brook's refrain."

Lilith thrust her face towards the impostor, her yellow eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

"Find the part of this face that cares about your folk tunes," she said. "Oh, that's right, you can't because there isn't any such part. Now, pay attention."

Lilith drew her self up to her full height and reached into a cauldron bubbling away to the side of the altar. From it she withdrew a silver short sword. Light rflecting off the blade's surface was tinted an odd green.

"This is a perfect replica of the Azureleaf blade, the ceremonial sword used by the prince's family. The only difference is that this carries with it the curse of blackest night."

Avan knew the curse of blackest night. If someone were killed with a weapon steeped in this darkest magic the withering power of the curse would reach out into the branches of the victim's family tree erasing not just the living members of the family but also cutting the ancestors out of time entirely.

"You marry the princess," Lilith explained to the impostor. "Then, on the wedding night plunge this sword into her heart. You will still be the regent of this place in the absence of Lord Leafspry, but as no one will  remember Lord Leafspry or any of his kin even existed you will be not only the sole ruler of Leafspry but also the heir to the kingdom of Azureleaf. Then all you have to do is kill Lord Azureleaf and one-fifth of the Wylde Wood belongs to me."

It was a plan as ambitious as it was cruel, Avan had heard enough.

"I'm afraid," he said, casting off the shadow enchantment, "that I cannot allow that to happen."

"Who is this?" Lilith screeched. "I told you to make sure you were not followed, imbecile."

"Wherever such evil is being worked," Avan said, drawing his own sword, "the weave has a way of ensuring it is uncovered, before too much damage can be done."

"You seek to skewer me on that pathetic blade?" the witch demanded haughtily. "You clearly do not know the nature of Lilith Snakescale."

With that the witch appeared to blow out her cheeks. Her head broadened and flattened, her skin's strange hue deepened, scales became evident across her smooth blue-white skin. Before long the witch had entirely transformed into a gigantic serpent, at least forty feet in length, her body filling the cave. The gigantic flat head of the snake sunk down to look into Avan's eyes.

"Go ahead," said the serpent, her voice high with hysteria. "Give it your best shot."

Having dealt with creatures on a similar scale before Avan knew that he had to pick his moves carefully. He swung the sword at the serpent's eye as Lilith opened her jaws wide to swallow the prince whole. Knowing that this was the serpent-witch's likely opening strike Avan revealed that his swing had been a feint. He twisted his wrist and jumped up into the open jaw intending to thrust his own sword through the roof of Lilith's mouth and into her serpent brain.

The plan suffered a setback when Avan's sword skidded off the serpent's skull, the blade ringing with the impact so hard it shattered. Avan leaped quickly out of the mouth as the jaws clamped shut, now completely without a weapon of his own.

"Didn't I mention?" Lilith screeched. "My bones are made of hardest steel, no sword can cut or shatter them. Now, stay still, showing my true face always makes me hungry."

Avan had no choice but to run as the giant serpent's head ploughed forward through the cave intent on catching him in its giant mouth. The snake was swift and Avan was being forced to react, he was being given no time to turn the tide of battle to his favour.

In desperation he cut to his right heading for the lever that kept the real Prince Azureleaf's cage suspended near the ceiling. He pulled it down before reversing direction and running for the centre of the cave past the open, venom dripping, jaws of the serpent to its left hand side. The snake's body flexed and the head was bearing down on Avan once again.

Avan dove forward underneath the falling cage and prayed to whichever gods might currently be both listening and in a benevolent mood that the last thing he did would not be to skid along the floor before being swallowed by a gigantic snake.

In fact, it wasn't. As the snake's head ploughed forward, intent upon its regal snack, it completely failed to note the falling lump of heavy metalwork above it. The cage bounced off Lilith's head, stunning her and bringing her charge to a halt.

Now was Avan's only chance to turn the tide of battle. He surveyed the scene around him, mostly filled with the shining blue purple scales of the giant snake that was trying to turn him into a late evening supper. The only exceptional feature in this landscape of sinuous serpentine muscle was the forlorn and confused figure of the impostor prince, still clutching on to the sword of blackest night.

The severity of the blade's curse was not one that Avan wished to be involved with, but at that moment he had little choice. He ran over to the imposter and wrestled the sword from his flimsy grasp. Without even thinking Avan spun and sent the sword flying in the direction of Lilith's head.

There was no point trying to penetrate the skull, he knew that now. His only option was to do what it had looked like he was going to in the first place. As the sword of blackest night left his hand Avan pushed it straight, swift and true with a little inertial charm and the sword plunged through the serpent's eye and on into the centre of Lilith's head.

The result was immediate and dramatic. Lilith Snakescale, and the blade she had enchanted, were instantly enveloped in oily shadows, the shadows shrunk to nothing in an instant leaving the cave empty of everything that had been present save for the two princes, Weatherstrong and Azureleaf, and a very confused looking frog.

The princess was united with her love and the wedding went off without a hitch. In fact, the kingdom Avan emerged into was a little wealthier than the one he had first arrived at as the money spent defending the kingdom from Lilith Snakescale had now, retrospectively, been put to better uses.

Avan was concerned that there would be some consequence to his use of the cursed blade, but as that had presented itself as the only option in his desperate fight he had to trust that the forces of the weave and wheel would see fit not to burden him with too heavy a price. Indeed there was a price for Avan to pay for his actions, how high the price is something you will have to judge for yourself another time for this tale is at its end.

Avan Weatherstrong In The Land Of Frogfellow

...a cone of orange light issued from the gem. This must be the dragon magic
Frederick had warned him about.

The land of Frogfellow used to lie in one of the outlying regions of the shadow realms. As we all know these places are rich in magic and, for this reason, they have a short life expectancy as kingdoms go.

Frogfellow was a classic example of a far shadow kingdom. It sprung up almost overnight, as if it had simply been dreamed into existence. This is, in all probability, too close to the truth of the matter to be quite comfortable for most of us. The kind and wise Lord Frogfellow ruled over his land. He was a man so generous and good-hearted that no one ever mentioned how closely he resembled the amphibian for which he was named.

A wide mouth, flat nose, big eyes and green pigmentation afflicted all the older Frogfellows. It stopped short of being too great of a burden upon his children. In fact the two princes and the three princesses that Lord Frogfellow called his children were bonnie and blithe. So much so that a churlish commentator may have called into question their parentage.

The thing about dreams, and the far shadows is that they are quite closely associated. The far shadows, the fringes of the weave, are reality's sketchpad. A kingdom of frog-people was the least of the wonders that could be observed there.

The delightful shadow kingdoms present attractive targets for conquest. Usually they catch the eye of some mean-spirited warlord or unpleasant sorcerer. This is because they esxist along seams of pure magical energy. They shape the mischief, solidifying it.

The more and more unstable reality becomes, the purer and more powerful the magic available to be harnessed. The down side of this is that in these places it is possible to have an unfortunate and fatal accident. At the edges the unwary are consumed by the crucible of all creation with worrying ease.

Most practitioners of magic like to settle in the middle shadows where magic is so controllable as to be almost boring. The edge places are for the wild, the dangerous, the insane and the foolhardy. Such an individual was Seditas Wolfjaw.

One could add to Wolfjaw's list of undesirable personal qualities selfishness, gluttony and sloth. A sorcerer of no little notoriety Wolfjaw was on a perpetual quest for the next big score. Like many sorcerers he had turned his eye to the Far Shadows. He sought out a relative island of peace in the chaos and his eye settled on Frogfellow. Filled with dire confidence he rolled in on the attack.

If truth be told Frogfellow did not put up much of a fight. It was a small kingdom. As such it had concentrated on mercantile prosperity as its priority. It was a leader in the manufacture of waterproof textiles and vegetarian foodstuffs. The palace had staff, including a guard, but no real army. A single wicked sorcerer with enough power to do real damage could stride in to little opposition. It was a minor working to turn the entire royal family into proper frogs.

Seditas Wolfjaw took control of Frogfellow. Its happy citizens were quickly chained up and put to work as slaves. The major industry of Frogfellow became the production of high price magical ingredients. The type used in powerful dark magic potions, tinctures and philtres. To this day genuine Frogfellow  pickled amphibian eyes attract prices of 10,000 gold pieces a jar. This is nothing to be proud of but can still give a goblin merchant the vapours.

However, no amount of gold could justify the suffering of an entire kingdom. It was only a matter of time before the weave delivered a hero to liberate the good people of Frogfellow from the evil oppressor.

Such a hero came in the shape of Avan Weatherstrong. It is not clear whether he was travelling outward toward the edges or inward away from them. Whichever way he was going the brave and wise prince had travelled far and wide since leaving his family home. He had already dealt with a good deal of darkness along the way.

Hearing stories of Frogfellow's unfortunate fate Avan Weatherstrong determined to help if he could. He arrived in Frogfellow early one morning. The prince rode his horse through the empty streets of the capital city towards the royal palace.

He was disturbed to find that, although there were many frogs hopping about in the palace, there was no sign of Seditas Wolfjaw. Avan Weatherstrong had assumed the evil sorcerer would live in the royal chambers after his victory. Instead the palace was full of pond life but there was no sign of wicked magical practitioners.

Avan knew that if he did not locate Seditas Wolfjaw in daylight he would have to leave disappointed. At night an evil sorcerer's power grew to its zenith. Daylight weakens dark magic considerably.

The prince searched the palace for any sign or clue indicating where he could find Wolfjaw but none was in evidence. As the day grew towards noon Avan sat upon the edge of the fountain that formed the palace garden's centrepiece and sighed.

"I don't know Marvel," he said to his horse. "I thought that finding Seditas Wolfjaw would be the least difficult part of this quest. This is turning out to be trickier than I thought."

If Marvel had any thoughts on the matter then we shall never know them. As Avan Weatherstrong finished speaking, a young man and a gnome fell into the fountain behind him with a mighty splash. The pair were locked in hand to hand combat as they hit the surface of the pond.

The impact, wave of water and frenetic energy of the fighters was enough to cause Avan to leap up in surprise. A tide of startled frogs exited the fountain and hopped off in every direction.

The soaking brought the fight to a stop before Avan had to wade in and pull the pair apart. The young man and the gnome sat breathless, water dripping from their noses and looked about them in amazement.

"Where are we?" the young man asked.

"I told you not to tweak my nose!" the gnome complained. "I'm not aligned yet, serious chaos magic. Mischief, I tell you, mischief."

"If you didn't want your nose tweaked," the young man complained, "then why did you sign up for cage fighting?"

"Are you saying that I can't partake in whatever activity I would choose to because of my inherited traits?" the gnome asked. "Because I think you'll find that's discrimination."

Avan Weatherstrong felt that the argument had the potential to continue indefinitely if he didn't weigh in. He cleared his throat. The boy and the gnome looked up at him, surprised expressions on their faces, as if they had not noticed the prince before.

"Oh," the young man said. "Hello."

"Yes," the gnome said. "Greetings. Apologies for the rude maner of our entrance but _somebody_ finds it hard to follow simple instructions." The gnome glared in the young man's direction.

"How was I supposed to know?" the young man complained. "If you had said something like: 'Please don't tweak my nose. It could result in sudden, inconvenient teleportation'. I might have listened more closely."

"_I_ didn't know what would happen, that's what chaos magic means," the gnome responded grumpily. "You are a very stupid boy."

"Knight!" the young man cried. "I am a knight. I have the scars to prove it."

"Would either of you like a hand out of the fountain?" Avan asked, loud and firm enough to cut through the disagreeable atmosphere a second time.

The young man gratefully accepted a hand up. The gnome showed a stubborn independence, wriggling his way out of the fountain by himself. Once the two of them were back on dry land they sat in the noon sun and tried to dry off.

"So, if you don't mind me asking," the young man said to Avan. "Where are we? And what's with all the frogs?"

"This is the kingdom of Frogfellow," Avan explained. "Unfortunately it is in the grip of a wicked sorcerer who has turned the royal family into frogs."

The young man knitted his brows, as if puzzled by something. He looked on the point of making a statement and then shook his head, changing his mind.

"Oh, okay," he said. "Something familiar about that but I can't quite remember it. I'm Frederick, uh, Sir Cobb, this here is, um, a gnome."

"Yes," the gnome said. "A gnome. I'm quite a new gnome, that's why I don't have a name yet."

"I am Avan" Avan said. "Pleased to meet you Sir Cobb and gnome. Could I ask how you ended up in the Frogfellow's fountain?"

"Well," the gnome said. "As I explained, I am quite a new gnome, not even three days old. As such I am quite brimful of chaos magic. My creator still hasn't reached the end of her wish, because she was fool enough to wish for 'an adventure'. If she'd wished for, I don't know, a palace full of frogs, for instance, we'd be done by now. I could have resolved myself into an elemental or something. As it is I have to remain dangerous and unstable until the wish has run its course."

"So you transported Sir Cobb and yourself here?" Avan asked.

"Not deliberately!" the gnome objected. "This idiot tweaked my nose, it's quite sensitive, my nose. I could tell that something would happen if he tweaked it. I told him not to."

"We were fighting in a cage match!" Sir Cobb objected. "Didn't you see the sign? 'No Holds Barred' that's not 'No Holds Barred Except For Nose Tweaking'."

"You were cage fighting?" Avan said hauling the conversation back on topic. "That, excuse me for saying, doesn't sound very knightly."

"Well, it's the world we live in," Sir Cobb shrugged. "I've rescued three maidens, killed a vampire and taken on a couple of lizard men. I also retrieved property from a bandit king but none of these jobs pay terrifically well. Being a knight these days isn't what you'd call a secure living. I have to supplement my income somehow, most major towns and cities have a cage arena. It's not my choice of activity but I won't be much use to anyone if I starve to death, will I?"

"I suppose not," Avan said. "I'm sorry to hear that you're having such a tough time of things, noble knight. I'm afraid that you may have found yourself in a little trouble. This kingdom is in thrall to an evil sorcerer. I had come here to face the villain but he is in hiding until nightfall. Unless I can find him I will have to retreat. You don't want to still be here after the sun goes down if I cannot defeat him."

For the second time Sir Cobb looked puzzled at Avan's words. He scratched his head, stood up and had a good look around.

"There's just something so... so... familiar about this," he said. "It's beginning to annoy me now."

"I'm afraid I cannot help you with that," Avan replied. "As I said, it would probably be best for you if you were just to leave. I must hunt for the sorcerer a little longer but I will have to abandon the search myself if I cannot find him."

"Well, I could help, it's kind of my sworn duty," Sir Cobb said. "Besides, I have nothing better to do for the time being. Perhaps, if we rescue this royal family they will hire me as a guard for my faithful service. That would certainly help with my reputation."

"It's your choice, good knight," Avan said. "But I will not lie to you this is a far shadow kingdom and magic here is powerful. I only consider myself worthy of the task laid before me because I know a little of the mystical path myself. You will have to follow my lead if you choose to stay."

Sir Cobb nodded.

"I understand," he said. "Then I shall do as you require, Sir Avan, and I will be pleased to fight at your side."

"Oh, terrific," the gnome said. "And what am I supposed to do? I have absolutely no desire to face off against an evil sorcerer. Between adventurous young ladies and nose-tweaking idiots, I almost wish chaos had never spit me out."

The gnome was so outraged he disappeared in a puff of light blue smoke. The vapour filled the air with the scent of cinammon.

"I didn't mean to tweak his nose," Sir Cobb said to Avan.

Avan just nodded.

"Come on then, Sir Cobb," the prince said, not wanting to risk those choppy conversational waters. "Let us be about our business."

"Oh, yes, of course," Sir Cobb agreed. "Where should we start? In the palace?"

"I have already searched the palace," said Avan, "there is no sign of the sorcerer in there."

"Oh, that's curious, isn't it?" Sir Cobb said. "You'd think he'd have got straight into the master bedroom with his feet up after he'd done his wicked work, wouldn't you?"

"Indeed I did," he replied. "Now I do not know where to go. The capital city here in Frogfellow is large, the alleys are numerous and narrow. Even with an extra pair of hands I cannot hope to cover the whole city in time."

"It is a pickle," Sir Cobb said. "What's the name of this fellow we're after anyway?"

"Seditas Wolfjaw," Avan told the young man.

Sir Cobb's mouth dropped open. He stared at Avan.

"Are you making some kind of a joke?" he asked.

"Why would I joke?"Avan asked, a little irritation slipping through in his tone.

"Because... well... " the young knight appeared to be lost for words. "What did you say your name was again?" he asked eventually.

"Avan," Avan replied. "Avan Weatherstrong." He paused, sighed and then said. "Prince Avan Weatherstrong, youngest son of the sixth Lord Weatherstrong."

Sir Cobb's eyes were like saucers, his jaw was slack. The news had been too much for the young man. He slumped, sitting on the edge of the fountain, looking at the floor.

"Tell me you're joking," he said eventually, not looking up from the floor. "Please tell me you are trying to make a fool of me."

"Why," Avan asked, running short of patience, "would I want to make a fool of you? I am Prince Avan Weatherstrong. What has that to do with you and whether or not you are a fool?"

"Because Avan Weatherstrong is in the old stories," Sir Cobb said hopelessly. "You're a legend. You're the main reason I ever wanted to become a knight in the first place."

Avan felt his own brow knitting. Thankfully, for both himself and Frederick, Prince Weatherstrong knew much of the world's strangeness. He knew of chaos magic, and gnomes. He was also wiser than to question the strangest stitches of the great weave, so he took this news in his stride.

"I am afraid that things are what they are, Sir Cobb," he said gently. "Sometimes the great weave winds threads into strange patterns."

"But... but..." Sir Cobb said, Avan could now see, with the lad close to tears, that Frederick was really little more than a boy. "I've not just travelled to a far away kingdom." The boy's voice was filled with despair. "I've fallen into the past. I've fallen into a story!"

"So it would appear," Avan said. "We had best make sure that the story has a happy ending."

"Oh," Frederick said, for a moment too surprised to be unhappy. "But it does! Well it did! I mean... I've ruined the story. I'm not in it, I mean, I wasn't in it. Although I am now."

"Tell me what happened," Avan said calmly. "In the story you heard."

"Well, it turns out that near to the capital city is a cave, an old dragon's lair, by a twisted tree. You find Seditas Wolfjaw has set up home there. He has trapped the dragon's soul within a jewel and a mighty battle ensues. You both unleash sorcerous power at one another in a mighty wizard's battle. You transform each other from form to form until you manage to transform Wolfjaw into a snake. You see, he has turned you into a mongoose, you snap his neck... At least, that's what the story said."

Avan smiled and sat down for a moment beside Frederick.

"I don't think that is what will happen today," Avan said. "I do not have the sorcery of transformation."

"Oh, sorry," Frederick said. "Have I messed everything up?"

"I did not have that power when I came here," Avan said. "I guess that by your time some... embellishments may have crept into the story. I do remember seeing a twisted tree as I approached the city, I guess that will help us find the sorcerer. If he has transformation sorcery then we shall have to be very careful in our approach."

And careful they were. With Frederick's help the two of them found the old dragon's lair and crept inside. The enormous cave system was dark and cold, not at all a welcoming home. Avan Weatherstong could sense the powerful magic that had infused the rock. He knew that Wolfjaw had made this his home for reasons other than comfort.

Deep within the twisted tunnels there was evidence of the sorcerer's presence. They found a smaller chamber that contained chairs and a table, along with other oddments. The bric-a-brac attempted to turn the damp cave into some sort of a home.

The cave was silent, there was no visible sign of the sorcerer. Avan could feel the presence of dark magic near at hand.

"It doesn't look like anyone's home," Sir Cobb said.

"Don't be so certain," Avan replied. "I can feel him, nearby, maybe even watching. Seditas Wolfjaw," Avan called out, "show yourself!"

"Two foolish knights," came the haughty tones of the sorcerer's voice. "I am honoured indeed to have such esteemed company in my humble abode on this day."

"He's wearing a cloak of invisibility," Avan told Frederick. "Pay close attention to anything. You can't see someone in one of those things but they still have an effect on the things around them."

"Usually true," Seditas Wolfjaw replied. His voice echoed around the cavern, appearing to surround them. "Except when the wearer can also fly!"

There was a swishing noise and something hard struck Avan in the chest. The force picked him off the floor and carried him backwards into a wall. He struck the wall hard and felt the wind leave his chest. He fell dazed to the floor wreathed in the sound of Seditas Wolfjaw's wicked laughter.

"Ah, knights, a diversion for a sorcerer such as I," Wolfjaw crowed. "You shall die today, but it is no shame to fall before one as mighty as Seditas Wolfjaw."

"Frederick!" Avan called out pulling a small glass ball from his pack. "Breath in deep and hold it, until you can see me again."

He threw the ball at the floor and it shattered, filling the room with a thick white smoke. Avan took his own advice inhaling before the ball landed. He hoped that Frederick was good at following orders. He thought it was only the sorcerer he could hear hacking and coughing his way through the billowing clouds.

As visibility was restored there were three figures revealed, all covered in a thin coating of white dust. Avan's smoke bomb had the side effect of covering things this way when deployed in close quarters. Avan drew his sword and ran at Seditas Wolfjaw.

"Do not presume!" Wolfjaw shouted. The sorcerer lifted his arm. Clutched in his right hand was an enormous cut gem. He pointed the gem in Avan's direction. A cone of orange light burst forth, forcing Avan to dodge at the last moment. This must be the dragon magic Frederick had warned him about.

The battle was still one-sided. Even though Wolfjaw was now visible the gem's transformation magic beam appeared to have no limit to its power. Wolfjaw just fired repeatedly not allowing Avan to find his feet. Eventually Avan realised he would tire, and then he would fall to the sorcerer's magic.

As he dodged and rolled, trying to prevent himself from ending up as a mouse or a housefly Avan saw Frederick. The boy snuck up behind the sorcerer clutching something in his hands. Wolfjaw appeared to have forgotten him.

Avan wanted to warn the young man back but that would be too dangerous. He just had to trust that the boy knew what he was doing. Maybe he could try to give him a hand.

"You will not defeat me, Seditas Wolfjaw!" Avan called. "It is only a matter of time before your fate is sealed."

The sorcerer appeared to be the type of egotistical buffoon who would have to respond to such taunts. Never was this more true than when he appeared to have total victory within his grasp.

"Bold words, coming from a man so close to exhaustion," the sorcerer said. "Let's see how bold your words come out when I have turned you into a lap cat!"

No one got to find out what kind of lap cat Avan Weatherstrong would have made. At that moment Frederick flipped the object in his hands over Seditas Wolfjaw's head. It was a flat gold disc, a frame around some sort of picture or...

Seditas Wolfjaw sensed movement above his head, he looked up and gasped in horror.

"My mirror!" he screamed out, it was the last thing he screamed before his body was consumed within the frame of a holding mirror. It landed, face down, on the floor of the cave, Seditas Wolfjaw trapped inside.

"I, uh, have seen that kind of mirror before," Sir Cobb said. "I thought it might help out."

Avan Weatherstrong, out of breath from jumping and rolling, gave Sir Cobb a sweaty grin.

"You, sir knight," he said to the young boy, "are far more than you appear to be. Come on Sir Frederick Cobb. You are adrift from your own days, you have saved my life and I should see you safely home."

And that Avan Weatherstrong did, after a few more adventures but these are stories for another day.

Why Tabarnas Had To Rehome An Owl

Tabarnas, Rachel and Micras were looking down on a toy castle. 

"So that's it, is it?" Rachel asked, her tone was harsh. "You're just going to make her produce rainbow grease for you, like a slave?"

Tabarnas jumped. He had been wondering how on earth he was going to find Rachel. It was job enough to locate stock that didn't move in the stacks. How one was supposed to find a lost and frightened little girl was a problem he had not even begun to consider the answer to.

"Oh, young lady," Tabarnas said. "You mustn't sneak up on old people like that, I might have had a heart attack or something."

"Would have served you right if you had you mean old slave driver," Rachel replied. "I thought you were nice."

"I don't know where you got that idea from," Tabarnas said. "I'm a goblin merchant, as a breed we're not noted for our bon homie."

"Your what?"

"Er, sorry, foreign words trip from my tongue. I speak business in every language, you see... Because I'm a merchant, not a slave driver, a merchant."

"So you're going to let the mermaid go?" Rachel asked.

"I'm not going to 'let' her do anything, she's her own fish person, she is mistress of her own destiny."

"Well, good," Rachel said. "I knew you wouldn't be a big old meanie about it. So how are we going to help her?"

"Help her?" Tabarnas asked, a puzzled look upon his face. "We? Young lady-"

"Rachel," Rachel interrupted him.

"Rachel," Tabarnas said. "You seem to be the victim of a misunderstanding. Firstly, 'we' are not, uh, 'we'. There is you and there is me. That is how things work in the market. Secondly, and for the very same reason, I am not helping anyone. I will render services in exchange for remuneration, of course. But if I went around doing things out of some fuzzy headed do-gooder notion that wouldn't make me a  good merchant now, would it?"

"You told me a story, that was nice," Rachel pointed out.

"You didn't enjoy it much, as I recall," Tabarnas replied.

"It was a nicer thing to do than standing around here being a nasty old grumpy guts like you're being now," Rachel said.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are impossible?" Tabarnas asked her.

"Only James and..." Rachel ran to a stop. "Oh! James! Did you rescue James?"

"Ah, now, there was a small problem..." Tabarnas began but it was too late, Rachel had begun to cry.

"Oh no," she said. "James, you lost James. This is all your fault!"

"Now I think that's a little unfair-"

"No, you're right..." Rachel said.

"Well, I'm glad-"

"It's all my fault, me and my stupid wish!" Rachel sat on Tabarnas's step stool and dissolved into floods of tears.

Tabarnas didn't know what to do or how to feel. He had been a goblin merchant his entire long life, over half a millennium at this moment. He bought, he sold, he bartered, he did stock taking, accounts ledgers and paid his dues to the Merchant's Guild. The only thing that Tabarnas did that was not the action of a goblin merchant was collect as many amusing stories as he could. He packed them into the corners of his brain that were not occupied with matters of trade.

Being confronted with a disconsolate little girl who had lost her talking mouse was not a situation that he had any idea how to remedy. He wondered if Cressie would be able to do any better. He swiftly came to the conclusion that, in fact, she would in all probability make things worse rather than better. Cressie had no spare corners in her mind, the whole mind was merchant from top to bottom.

Before Tabarnas could unpick the predicament any further matters were taken out of his hands. The soft and lilting sound of a beautiful melody washed over the small yard  between the tents on the pitch. The song had no words but appeared to be, at one and the same time, choral and coming from a single throat. The song was soothing as it was beautiful and came from the throat of Teleosti, the mermaid.

Rachel stopped sobbing and looked up at the mermaid in wonder. For just a moment the thrust and bustle of the market appeared to recede and a placid atmosphere of calm came over the scene.

The song ended and Teleosti smiled down at Rachel. Rachel stood and went over to the mermaid's tank.

"Your voice," Rachel said. "It's so beautiful."

"Thank you," the mermaid replied. "So are the feelings of love you have for James. I can only sing a song so beautiful when something pure and joyful inspires me."

"Oh, you mean I..." Rachel couldn't finish what she was trying to say.

"I was singing your love for James, Rachel," the mermaid said. "That should keep you strong while you find him again."

"Oh it will, it will!" Rachel said. "Thank  you so much... oh, I don't know your name."

"I am called Teleosti," the mermaid said. "But my friends call me Eos, you may call me that, if you would like to. I haven't made any new friends since I began the quest to find my people's lost treasure, so a new one would cheer me up right now."

"Oh, yes, of course Eos, we can be friends, of course! I've never been friends with anyone but James and now I have two new friends in one day, Eos and Tabarnas."

"Ah..." Tabarnas said. He felt that it was incumbent upon him to point out, once again, that he was a goblin merchant. For which reason he did not have friends, only customers.

Rachel and Eos looked over to him, both appeared much happier than they had been for the entire rest of the afternoon. Tabarnas saw no business value in ruining a good mood, indeed bad moods were well known to sour business.

"The market will be closing soon," Tabarnas said. "I suppose, Rachel, that we had better find somewhere for you to stay."

"I thought you didn't help people unless it was for money," Rachel said, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

"We can... work something out... in the morning," Tabarnas said. "First of all we had better tell Cressie. I don't think you will find her to be as soft a negotiator but we can hardly hide you away from her now, can we?"

"I suppose not," Rachel said. She did not sound like she was looking forward to meeting Cressidia again, which marked her out as something of a wise child.

The two of them stepped towards the flap at the rear of the stall. Before they could go inside the fluttering shape of a glowing white owl flapped out of the stacks. It flew over to land on the edge of Eos's tank.

"Hooo! Thought you could get away from me did you, vandal!" the owl said to Rachel. "Well, no such luck, my head rotates all the way round and my eyes can spot a mouse three miles away."

"So," Rachel said. "If James is less than three miles away, you'll be able to spot him. Oh, but you're not to eat him."

"Whooo is James?" the owl said. "And why would I find anyone for you? You uncouth child!"

"Nobody in this place is very polite or particularly nice," Rachel complained. "Except for you Eos, and you're not  from around here originally."

"Why should I be nice to the person who destroyed my home?" the owl asked.

"I did no such thing!" Rachel objected. "I've never even seen your smelly home. I wouldn't destroy it anyway."

"Oh no?" the owl shot back. "Not even when your good friend the gnome pointed out that you could get outside instantly if you just damaged some stock?"

"Oh! No!" Rachel said, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. "You were inside that doll's house?"

"It was not just a doll's house, I will have you know," the owl said. "It was a genuine _haunted_ doll's house, you tipped it onto the floor as if it didn't even matter."

"You did what?" Tabarnas cried. Until now he had been too confused by the owl flapping about to put the whole thing together. The understanding that this troublesome little girl had cost him stock sparked outrage in his heart. Add to this the fact that the item was an authentic haunted doll's house and the outrage almost grew greater than he could bear.

"I got lost, in your stupid stacks," Rachel said, unrepentant petulance written across her face. "The gnome came back and reminded me about the anti-vandal charm that set the troll loose. I just thought it was a doll's house."

"But... it was... haunted..." Tabarnas said, his head was spinning, it was his turn to sit on the step stool.

"You've still got the ghost," Rachel said. "Although, if you sell him we're back to slavery again. I am surprised at you, Tabarnas, I thought you were just a merchant."

"I knew it was haunted," Tabarnas said. "I didn't know what by, the thing was only a foot and a half tall and it had three floors."

"I was for sale!?" the owl objected. "Micras Whitney is not for sale to anyone, at any price, dead or alive," it announced. Then, more quietly: "In this case, decidedly dead."

"Well, looks like I did you a favour," Rachel said. "If you'd sold that haunted doll's house you would have sold Micras along with it, and that would have been bad karma."

"Bad what?" Tabarnas asked.

"Karma," Rachel said. "James told me about it, it means if you do bad stuff then bad stuff happens to you."

"But I wouldn't have known," Tabarnas said. "Apparently neither would the owl."

"It is true that I had become very comfortable in my lodgings," Micras agreed. "But this is no excuse to sell them. And me along with them."

"I don't even remember where we got the silly thing," Tabarnas grumbled. "Probably in one of Cressie's job lot acquisitions. Sorry for the inconvenience everybody."

Tabarnas most certainly did not mean that last sentence, and he knew that everyone present knew that he didn't either. He didn't care.

"Well, it looks like now you've got to find three of us somewhere to stay," Rachel said. "Me, Eos and now Micras as well. You should be more careful about what you keep in your stock room. Magic mirrors full of trolls, haunted doll's houses. Who else do you have back there that you don't even know about?"

"Look!" Tabarnas said, tapping his cane upon the ground sharply. "This is Riseandshine and Titsadaisy Goblin Merchants. It is not Riseandshine and Titsadaisy Flop House and Mission For The Dispossessed. I think I've just about had quite enough for today."

"Well, the sooner we rehouse Micras and find me a bed the sooner we can get on with tomorrow," Rachel said brightly. "I'm sure tomorrow will be better. Besides it can't be that hard, you must have another doll's house somewhere in that stock room, it's massive."

"Not that I know of..." Tabarnas said, thinking hard. He had to admit that the child was talking sense. If they could re-haunt something else then the ghost owl would be happy. They could finally put this awful Tuesday behind them and move on.

A memory resurfaced from the story telling parts of Tabarnas's mind. The memory's subject happened to cross reference with a stock item so it was close to hand. Tabarnas could remember almost every item of stock attached to a story.

"I think I have the place, just the place," Tabarnas said. "A curiosity that I am not intending to sell and it will be just the thing."

"I'll be the judge of that," Micras said. "But very well."

"The best part is that I think we'll be able to give Rachel a bed in the same place. Maybe we can talk to Cressie about the whole thing when she's in a better mood."

Tabarnas could tell that no one who had met Cressidia would possibly have held out any hope of her being in a better mood ever. Right now there were more pressing matters to deal with so nobody said anything.

"Now, before we go in," Tabarnas said to Rachel, "you just remember to stick by my side in the stacks. I can't have you junking stock because you keep getting lost."

"I'm sorry Tabarnas," Rachel said. "It won't happen again."

"You see that it doesn't," Tabarnas said as they made their way into the stall. They ducked through the gap in the display shelves that formed the entrance to the stacks. "We're already in enough trouble as it stands."

"I thought there was no 'we'," Rachel said. Tabarnas was dismayed to see the return of the insufferable smirk to the girl's face. "I thought," she continued uneccessarily and with far too much smugness, "that there was just 'you' and 'me'."

"Yes, well," Tabarnas said. "We will definitely be having a conversation about the matter in the morning for now... where was the blasted thing? Let me think, second right, third left. Behind the storage bin for winged sandals and other lightly enchanted footwear, yes, here it is."

Tabarnas, Rachel and Micras were looking down on a toy castle. The model was remarkably detailed, not to say quite odd. The castle had a rounded wall, a gatehouse, a traditional wizarding tower, a grand hall and a few outbuildings. In the courtyard an intricate and beautiful model garden had been created. From the tallest point of the main building a metal pin carried a red flag bearing the device of a frog wearing a crown.

"There is a most fascinating story about the castle upon which this model is based," Tabarnas said proudly. "It's another story of the great prince Avan Weatherstrong. You see, he was travelling in a far away land. One where the entire ruling family found themselves transformed. Turned into frogs by the evil sorcerer..."

"Tabarnas," Rachel said. "Another time. Right now, this looks fine for Micras, if he likes it." She looked up at the owl.

"It will do," the ghost said not committing to anything.

"I don't see what it does for me, though," Rachel said.

"Ah, well, you see, that's where you fail to understand the precise nature of the artifact. Now, do as I do, carefully."

Tabarnas put his finger onto the top of the flag pole and intoned:

"In the name of the Grand Frogfellow Clan, bid me entry to this monument erected in your honour. Created so that none would forget the acts of Seditas Wolfjaw until this world should end."

Tabarnas loved the strange falling sensation, the tingle of well-applied sorcery accompanying the transition. Whenever a new volume of collected stories came into his possession he would make his way to the garden of the model Caer Frogfellow. This was where he would secret himself away to read.

He knew that Cressie would take a dim view of such activities. So, he had concealed the model carefully in a part of the stacks reserved for the storage of low value unsaleable tat.

Tabarnas did not have much of a chance to feel clever about what he had done because within moments Rachel was at his side in the garden. Micras, being a ghost, didn't need the model's magic to transfer scale.

"Impressive, don't you think?" Tabarnas beamed, positively glowing with pride. "You are now standing in my favourite item in the whole world."

The model garden was stunning in its detail. The ponds were made of polished glass and the hedges crafted from tiny pieces of wood. Each bore a mark indicating they had been hand carved by pixie workmen. The castle was a remarkable piece of work.

The large frog statue mounted on a pedestal in the central fountain was perfect in every detail. The giant frog's right leg draped across a recumbent wolf. The symbol of Frogfellow's eventual victory over the sorcerer Seditas Wolfjaw. It was one of Tabarnas's favourite stories and he burned to tell it right away.

"If you're thinking of launching into a story," Rachel said, gauging his mood perfectly, "don't. I've had a long day and I need some sleep. I assume you're going to tell me that the castle is an exact replica inside, so I will be able to find a bed."

Tabarnas deflated.

"Yes, just so," he said. "It really is a fine story, the tale of How Avan Weatherstrong Defeated Seditas Wolfjaw."

"The last story you told me about that prince he was fighting a wolf," Rachel said. "One wolf story in a day is quite enough."

"He wasn't a wolf," Tabarnas complained. "He was a sorcerer, he just happened to be called Wolfjaw, it's just a surname, like Riseandshine. I'm called Riseandshine, I'm not the sun."

"So, once I've slept and I want to leave," Rachel said, ignoring Tabarnas's hope that she would allow him to tell the story. "How do I manage that?"

"Just curtsy to the frog statue and thank him warmly for his hospitality," Tabarnas explained. "I bow because I'm a man, women curtsy."

"What if I want to bow?" Rachel said.

"Do what you like," Tabarnas said, irritable that his storytelling ambition had been thwarted. "It'll work or it won't."

"There's no need-" Rachel began but she got no further.

"Tabarnaaaaas!" the greatly amplified and terrifying voice of Cressidia rang out. From their low position it sounded like the mighty battle cry of an enraged giant. "There's a market keeper here to see you, something about a troll and property damage."

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" Tabarnas said feeling his heart sink in his chest.

"Looks like you'd better thank the frog for his hospitality," Rachel said. "And I'll see you in the morning."

Which she did, at which point there were more problems to solve, but those are the subject of another day's tale.