 
### A Sprinkling of Thought Dust

Steven and Margaret Larson

Published by Margaret Larson at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 by Steven and Margaret Larson

Cover Art copyright 2010 by Betty Rieffer

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold. Thank you for respecting the work of the authors.

For the three generations of Clavens in our family. For the one who blessed us and ran ahead. For the one who did the work we could not do. For the one who encouraged.

And especially for the author of us all who, when His work in us is finished and all life's fantasies are set aside, will call us to Himself.

CONTENTS

1 – A Meeting in the Mist

2 – Treetop Conference

3 – Before the Streetlights

4 – Kittens in the Culvert

5 – Not a Creature was Stirring

6 – Discovered

7 – Branching out Bungalows

8 – Shelters and Star Globes

9 – What's in the Box

10 – Facing the Fear

11 – Early Passage

12 – Mirta's Woven Dreams

13 – Mrs. Hayworth

14 – Cutting Classes

15 – Rendezvous

16 – Mirta's Counsel

17 – Max Attack

18 – Under the Roots

19 – Driftwood

20 – Monarch Moment

21 – Missing Threads

22 – Flight to the Woods

23 – Tiny Trouble

24 – Silverthorn's Scheme

25 – Parental Persuasion

26 – Working for Nothing

27 – Amber Morning

28 – A Change of Plans

29 – Golden Thoughts

30 – The Salamander

31 – Waiting for Trevor

32 – An Unenchanting Solution

33 – From a Merchant's Point of View

34 – Simon's Warning

35 – Ragnar's Choice

36 – Defensive Thoughts

37 – Late Shipment

38 – Back Through the Tunnel

39 – Under the Gate

40 – Thoughts in a Jar

41 – Scattered Memories

42 – Tight Schedule

43 – Flight to the Gate

44 – Illusions in the Garden

45 – Through the Underworld

46 – Night of the Eclipse

47 – The Dragonfly

A MEETING IN THE MIST

Late November in the Silver Realm

Electrum hurried as fast as his short legs and the bulky robe allowed. Swirling mist blurred the faces of passing sprites. As he neared the harbor the air thickened into a wet, gray murk.

He closed his hand into a fist, and the King's heavy signet ring pressed into his finger. Simon had insisted he take the ring as a symbol of authority. His robe was meant to provide a look of dignity, but it sagged and dripped with moisture. Angry sounds floated toward him, and he recognized his friend Ragnar's voice.

"I don't care anything about your ancient traditions or the precious reed mats that have graced the palace floors for time out of mind."

"Even a ship captain like yourself should be able to understand the need for the royal seal." The second voice added to the chill in the air.

Electrum's steps slowed as he forced himself to walk out on the pier.

Paper rustled. "I have the order," Ragnar said.

Electrum flapped his wings to shake out the moisture. The movement disturbed the airflow, parting the mist.

Ragnar, a pookah even more stout than Electrum, stood with stubby legs apart and fists on his hips. A massive sprite with silver wings and glistening chest plate towered over him. Sterling, Captain of the Guard.

Fog hid their lower bodes. They looked like reeds growing in a murky pond with their dark green skin and brown silky hair. A young sprite held a white glowstone. His trembling hand made the light dance in ripples across their faces. Through the moving mist Electrum caught glimpses of the ship's figurehead, an enameled salamander.

"The King ordered this carpet from the Gold Realm," Ragnar said. "It's been paid for. I've been commissioned to deliver it. And neither you nor the Royal Guard have any grounds for interfering with the King's wishes."

"These simple forms are acceptable for your trivial merchandise," Sterling said, "but goods ordered by the King require his stationery and seal. We can't have every barge fly seeking a free ride to the palace claiming they have an order for the King. You know the type."

"Barge fly...barge fly..." Ragnar spluttered.

Sterling crumpled the paper and let it fall into the fog.

"If I let you pass..." Sterling shrugged.

Electrum cleared his throat. "Perhaps I can help."

Sterling whirled to face him. The light outlined his clenched jaw, and a vein pulsed in his temple. Electrum was glad the eyes were in shadow.

"Another pookah. Ah yes, the tutor. And how do you propose to interfere? Do you bring orders from the gatekeepers, or do you simply plan to control me with your thought dust?" His hand rested on his belt, caressing the worn hilt of a dagger.

"Not at all, sir," Electrum said forcing his eyes away from the dagger. "I've simply brought the king's seal." He held up the ring.

Sterling dismissed it with a wave. "Rather useless without the document to go with it."

"Oh, yes," Electrum said, and fumbled in his robe. He pulled out a damp paper and carefully unfolded it. The ink was smudged from his wet fingers, but it was clearly the King's document releasing the cargo. He pressed the ring into the wax. With a smile he held out the paper. Sterling snatched it out of his hand.

Ragnar folded his arms across his wide belly. "It seems I am fortunate indeed," he said. "Not many can claim a ship cargo released by the Captain of the Guard. How nice of you to sign off."

Sterling stuffed the paper into his pocket and glared at Electrum. "You have poisoned the mind of the prince and clouded the King's thoughts, but you will not stop me from preventing this contaminating trade with the Gold Realm.

"Some see it as progress," Ragnar said.

"Pookahs," he spat the word. "Too fat to fly and always meddling." He strode away, the mist closing around him.

"Fat indeed!" Electrum mumbled under his breath. "I fly just fine without this burdensome robe."

The pier creaked under a heavy boot. A dark form emerged from the fog and the two pookahs stepped back. A powerful sprite wearing the dark colors of a lieutenant leered down at them.

"Leave them, Tanner," Sterling's voice growled from the fog.

Tanner's face split in a mock grin. Then he slunk after Sterling.

"The hornet and his mosquito," Ragnar said. He chuckled and the pleasant sound was welcome. "You did well to have Prince Silverthorn serve as a pollywog on the Salamander. He learned the trade well, and he will make a better king for it."

"If he hadn't met Amber," Electrum said, "he would have been a much more contented king. Rumors have been rampant in the palace about his flirtation with a gold merchant girl. Sterling is not the only one who objects."

"Don't second guess yourself, my friend. You don't know what good might come of it."

TREETOP CONFERENCE

December

Gusts of cool wind rocked the top slender branches of the Palace Oak. Electrum lay in a hammock with eyes closed, but he was not asleep. He lay listening to the sound of boots scuffing over the wooden platform's dry flooring in a repetitive shuffle.

He didn't bother to open his eyes. Every movement of the pacing prince was familiar, but the sprite's emotions tugged at the edge of his consciousness intruding on his thoughts.

Electrum wanted to think about a small retirement tree. Something out of the way. Fully furnished. Maybe even a small boat of his own.

The pacing stopped. Silverthorn's urgent voice severed the pookah's foggy thoughts. "The silver is spreading. What am I going to do, Electrum? Look at my wings."

With reluctance, Electrum focused on the sprite. The prince's wings were the same dark shade of green as his skin but transparent and narrow like a dragonfly.

"There's nothing wrong with them," the pookah answered. "Of course they're not like mine."

With a grunt, he rolled out of the hammock. Reaching up, he retrieved a black hat from a nearby twig. When he put it on, his ears poked through holes in the brim. His wings spread out like a large moth. The underside was the glossy color of wet holly leaves with gold and silver veins. He shrugged and folded them tight against his back, tucking the color inside a dark, v-shaped hump.

The prince reached behind and tugged at his own glimmering wingtip that was outlined in white. "You know what I mean. The silver is spreading."

Electrum knew, but the wings weren't the prince's real problem. The issue was coming of age. As his tutor, he had thought it a logical part of education to acquaint the prince with commerce. He hadn't expected him to fall in love with Amber.

"Everyone's wings turn either silver or gold when they come of age," said the pookah. "You're an evening sprite so of course you're going to turn silver. It's the way of things, Ralphie."

"Stop calling me Ralphie. My name is Silverthorn."

"Exactly. Silverthorn. Need I say more?"

The prince folded his arms. "You're not going to remind me about my tiresome responsibilities again, are you?" His lower arms were covered with swirling brown lines that looked like a tattoo, but were as natural as the silver freckles on his face and the straight brown hair that fell to his collar. They would turn silver too after the wings.

"As Grand Pookah, you know it's my duty to be sure the heir apparent is well educated and aware of his position. That's you Ralphie. You're going to inherit the throne, and that comes with obligations."

The prince had to focus on reality and accept that the relationship with Amber was impossible. Once they both matured, they would forever be in different worlds.

Gripping a tree branch, Silverthorn leaned out over the edge. The breeze stirred his hair. Below him a series of platforms were built onto the branches at different levels all the way to the bottom. Lights twinkled and voices drifted up as servants and guardsmen moved about in the tree palace and on the ground far below.

He turned back and strode across the wooden deck to the pookah.

"What about Amber? We'll be forever separated in less than a year. This will be our last summer. By the time the snow flies in the Tween World, she will have turned gold, and I will be silver. What do I care about the throne?"

A shiver went up Electrum's back. Swiveling his ears, he listened for sounds from below. The movement disturbed thought dust that had gathered on his hat, and it spilled over the brim. What wasn't caught in his hair blew away on the breeze.

"Be careful of your words," he cautioned. "Sterling is an isolationist. He hates having the gates open. As Captain of the Guard, he has the King's ear. The halls are peppered with his followers."

"No one can hear us up here, Electrum. We're on the top tier. The winds are too strong tonight for flying without good reason. Sterling is old. He and his soldiers have too much bulk to bounce along these thin branches, and they don't like the cold air."

Electrum grunted. He didn't like the cold air either. Not that it was really cold. Not like the Tween World.

"He's not that old," Electrum said, "and he's more agile than you think. There's nothing wrong with his hearing, and he's perceptive. Don't underestimate him."

"It's you that should be careful. You're spilling thought dust on the wind. Whomever it lands on will know all your thoughts."

"Not all of them, Ralphie. The dust isn't concentrated. Any thoughts picked up will be scattered and too confusing to make any sense."

Silverthorn sank onto the floor and dropped his hands on his knees. He smoothed the cloth where his pants were tucked into his boot tops.

Electrum sighed. Just one more year and he could move into a nice little retirement tree. He was looking forward to picking one out.

"Maybe we'd have been better off if the gates were never opened," Silverthorn said.

"Now you sound like Sterling. Do you wish you'd never met Amber?"

The prince moaned and shook his head. "Maybe if I could talk to the gatekeepers. They know how to keep the gates open between the worlds. They might have a solution for Amber and me. How can I meet one?"

"Only gatekeepers know other gatekeepers, Ralphie. There's no way to talk to them. Even if you could, they would never reveal anything. It's the only way to keep the gates secure."

"But someone before me must have been discontented with where they found themselves. Suppose the place they seem to be is not the real place they should be?"

"Huh?" Electrum was having difficulty following the conversation.

"Maybe I can work toward changing my place."

"Certainly you can make some changes, but you have to accept things. You're a prince, and she's a merchant. Even if you could overcome the social differences, you can't overcome the physical barriers. You can't survive in each other's world. Your wings would shrivel and burn. Some things just are. You can't change nature."

"But aren't there ancient tales of creatures morphing into other forms?"

"All the worlds have their myths." Electrum wasn't sure he liked where this was leading.

"I think some of them are true," Silverthorn said.

"Which ones did you have in mind?"

Silverthorn grinned. "Like a sprite turning into a pookah," he said mischievously.

Electrum grunted. "Where do you really think pookahs come from?"

"From other pookahs?"

Electrum frowned. "Yes, but I meant originally. What is a pookah?"

Silverthorn got up and paced the floor. His voice took on a singsong quality as he recited.

"In great upheaval the land was torn

And from the struggle two worlds were born

Rumbling and thunder

World asunder

All forlorn

Now two realms with different light

One for the morning, one for night

Families apart

Broken hearts

Different twilights

Sprites turn silver in a misty land

Sprites turn gold as the desert sand

Silver wings

Gold wings

Tween World strand

But sprites who were in the Tween World caught

Turned into pookahs, and their homeland sought

Over river hovered

Gates discovered

Gatekeepers taught

Between the worlds the pookahs glide

On Passage River's flowing tide

Alas,

Only they can pass

And in either world abide

Pookahs can their form conceal

Thus disguising what is real

Cloaking ships

Making trips

With merchants deal

The gatekeepers task - to keep the gates open

About their secrets, little is spoken

Open gates

Accommodates

Unites worlds broken"

Electrum laughed. "A fair recital."

Silverthorn bowed. "Scrolls in the royal library record the old tales. Simon says there is great treasure in the ancient writings."

Electrum smiled. "Simon can be overly dramatic. I sometimes think the office of king's aide and librarian should not be held by the same person. He takes the responsibilities of Librarian far more seriously than those who held the position before him."

Silverthorn's eyes glistened. "Some tales say that the parents of a pookah can be a silver sprite and a gold sprite."

Electrum's shrug was nonchalant, but he was wide-awake now.

Silverthorn's voice was soft. "There are some vague passages about an obscure plant. It must be picked fresh and mixed with sprite dust. Then, the sprite in question is sprinkled with the dust and he changes color."

Electrum tried to brush it aside. This was getting too close to parts of his history that were not generally known. "I believe you left out some important details."

"Like what?"

"The small matter of a lunar eclipse for one. The kind of sprite dust. Where to get the plant. It's a vague legend at best." His stomach felt quivery. "Your time would be better spent pacifying Sterling than in reading old myths. There are many more worthy scrolls in the archives you could be studying. I'm sure Simon would be thrilled to introduce you to them."

"But if it were true. If it could be done. Wouldn't that sprite's children be pookahs?"

"Of course not. That would take a blue moon eclipse."

"But it does happen," Silverthorn insisted.

"Rarely. You'd be hard pressed to find one in the records."

"There was a blue moon eclipse about 60 years ago."

Electrum stiffened. "How do you know that?"

"It's recorded in the Gold Realm archives."

"I see." He felt a trickle of sweat run down his neck. The cold air now felt good on his hot face. "Perhaps Sterling was right about not sending you to the Gold Realm."

"Your parents weren't pookahs were they?"

There was a long silence. It wasn't a scarlet secret, but it could make his life more difficult if widely known. Sterling would hate him even more, if that were possible.

Finally he shook his head and cleared his throat. "My parents were sprites. My father was a common silver dockworker. My mother was a gold seamstress. He had nothing to lose and no responsibility to anyone."

"Is that why you have thought dust instead of cloaking ability?"

"My gift is rare, but it has nothing to do with my heritage."

Silverthorn leaned forward eagerly. "So how does it work?"

"Thought dust?"

"No - changing."

"Don't be foolish. Didn't you hear what I said about my parents? They had nothing to lose. You have everything to lose."

"What I don't want to lose is Amber."

"It would mean abdicating your royal station and relinquishing the palace. You'd forfeit your royal privileges with your best hope being to join the merchant class— if they accept you."

"I have my experience as a pollywog. All the merchants praised my work. I don't think I'd have any difficulty being accepted."

Electrum coughed and said under his breath, "What else would they say to a prince?"

Silverthorn didn't notice. "And Amber and I would be together," he whispered.

"Your father would never allow it. The whole idea is absurd." Electrum slumped back in the hammock. How could he have let the kid lead him into this discussion?

Silverthorn's voice was firm. "Where do we find this amazing plant?"

With resignation Electrum said, "In the Tween World. You need a cat to find it."

"A cat? That shouldn't be hard."

"Cats are unpredictable. How do you think you're going to recruit a cat?"

"What about that one you used to tell me stories about? What was her name?" He squeezed his eyes shut, then grinned. "Dusty. What about Dusty? You said you could communicate with her."

"Dusty has kittens. She won't allow herself to be distracted from them. And you're forgetting the other details. Your dust won't work. It needs to be gold dust. And there's the little matter of the eclipse." He knew it was a feeble protest.

"That's the easy part. You haven't forgotten about Eclipse Night next fall have you? The one time when gold and silver sprites can meet together in the Tween World."

"How are you going to make plans with Amber before then? You've both already started changing and it's dangerous for either of you to be in the other's twilight. If you burn your wings, you'll never fly again."

"When Amber and I worked on the ships as pollywogs, Gilder came with me as my valet. He knows Amber and is still young enough to safely enter both twilights as our emissary. You just need to go to the Tween World and handle Dusty."

"Fly to the Tween World now? It's almost winter there."

"There's still time. It's not much colder there now than it is here. Will you help me?"

Electrum felt his plans fading and his retirement tree slipping out of reach.

BEFORE THE STREETLIGHTS

As evening twilight settled over the Silver Realm, Electrum got ready to leave for the Tween World to find Dusty. He had meant to go that morning, but the King had other plans. It was late afternoon by the time he escaped from the endless meetings.

His room was warm as he pulled on his flight jacket and decided regular trousers would be fine. No need for the bulky flight pants over the top.

The cold air was refreshing as he flew over the river. When he entered the gate though, he realized his mistake in not wearing the whole flight suit. It had been years since he had come through the gate this late in the year. The walls were barely visible through the thick fog, and the icy mist closed in around him.

He emerged into the Tween World and followed the river through a wooded area. It was warmer under the trees but he didn't stay in the woods long. Dusty would be near the houses.

The sun hid behind cloudy skies. Real clouds were rare in the sprite worlds. The Gold Realm never had clouds, and the Silver Realm only had twilight mist on the ground. You could always fly above it. The only places they had clouds were inside the gates.

He passed through the streets trying to catch a glimpse of Dusty's gray form. Soft yellow lights were starting to come on inside the houses suggesting warmth. It would be nice to get this done and return home to a snug hammock.

He spotted an animal moving in a feline way and sighed happily. Swoop down and have a little chat. Then he could head home. He flew lower, following the cat as it wove in and out beneath parked cars. He was just about to call out when the cat turned and stepped out from the shadow.

It was bulky and yellow. The chill in the air was nothing compared to the fear that swept through Electrum as he flapped his wings in a frantic effort to reverse direction. How could he have mistaken this yellow monster for Dusty?

With a low chattering noise the cat leaped. Electrum gasped digging his wings into the air to gain altitude. He jerked his knees up to his chin. The cat's paw swiped through the air just under his feet sending him tumbling through the air.

Coming out of the spin, he looked for a place to land and get his bearings. Light shone from a second story window and he dropped onto the sill.

Below, the cat climbed several feet up the wall before jumping back down. Without a backward glance it dashed across the yard into the darkness.

Electrum sat panting. The flight jacket now seemed much too warm. He glanced inside the window. It wouldn't do to be seen. Three boys crowded around an object that emitted flashes of light. None of them seemed interested in anything outside the room.

Electrum straightened his hat leaving dust on the sill. Staying a safe distance from the ground, he flew off to continue his search.

Inside the room, Trevor typed furiously as Brandon shouted coordinates from his scientific calculator.

"Quit dribbling the lunar cruiser across the surface," Archie said. "Park it in the crater. You guys do better on the basketball court." He reached for the joystick.

"Wait," Brandon said. "I've almost got it. Drop it to 42...no 36."

Archie grabbed the joystick knocking over the bowl of popcorn. The air was filled with the white kernels. On the screen, the lunar cruiser leveled out briefly and almost made it to the crater before crashing in a blaze of light. **GAME OVER** flashed across the screen in bright red.

Trevor slumped back in his chair. "Way to go, Archie."

"It's not like you guys were going to make it," he said as he shook popcorn off his shirt. "A few more bumps on the surface and it would have exploded anyway."

Brandon looked up from his calculator. "We're missing something. Maybe we have to look up some facts." He ran his fingers through his hair and popcorn kernels fell out.

"Sounds like homework," Archie said with disgust.

"Might come in handy in the real world," Brandon said.

"In the real world we'd be looking through a telescope instead of a computer screen."

"Like the observatory at school?"

"There's no telescope up there," Archie said.

"Sure there is," Brandon said. "My uncle told me they used to have classes up there when he was a kid."

Archie snorted. "That was a hundred years ago. It wouldn't be much good now."

"Would too."

Trevor glanced out the window and jumped up knocking over the chair. "Wow, it's late. I gotta go. Sorry about the mess."

"I'll help clean up," Archie said. "We don't want your mom freaking out about twilight again."

"Thanks," Trevor mumbled and dashed for the door.

"One more time," he heard Brandon saying. "You type."

Trevor struggled into his jacket as he ran down the street. His shadow stretched out in front of him and his breath came out in puffs of white vapor. It was going to be close. He glanced at the streetlight. It hadn't come on yet. A streak of glittering sparkles in the air made him blink.

He was coming up to the rickety fence around the corner house. The gate wasn't latched securely. Faint light flowed from the open door outlining a dark form on the porch. Caesar, the German Shepherd. His eyes glinted red in the dim light as he waited for someone to foolishly come within range.

Trevor knew that the chain allowed Caesar to come all the way to the gate. In his first encounter, only inches had separated him from the charging beast.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Caesar," he said as he crossed the street.

The rest of the way home was dog free. He picked up his pace. His father was great with science projects, but couldn't grasp the danger of neighborhood dogs.

But his current concern was his mother and her obsession about twilight. It wasn't so bad in the summer, but since Daylight Savings Time had kicked in, night came early. She had warned him that the next time he didn't make it home before the streetlights came on, he would be grounded. At this rate he wouldn't see the outside world again until he was thirteen. Since he was only nine, that was going to be a very long time.

A car rounded the corner with its headlights gleaming ominously. He'd never make it in time. His only hope was to cut off a couple minutes with a shortcut. The stone fence around Mrs. Hayworth's garden loomed ahead.

Before he could change his mind, he catapulted over it. As his feet hit the ground, a loud yowl rent the air followed by a long drawn out hiss. Startled, he crashed against the wall, his jacket cushioning the impact.

He had almost landed on a twenty-five pound ball of yellow fury. Its puffed out tail was only slightly smaller than its round, arched body. One paw raised with claws extended. Yellow eyes gleamed at him. It was the largest cat he had ever seen.

Trevor scrambled to his feet and dashed across the garden. Something loomed out of the dusk, colliding with him. Flailing his arms he fought to free himself.

The painted face and button eyes of a scarecrow grinned up at him. He struggled to his feet clawing at the figure's red scarf as it wrapped around his head. It trailed out behind him as he sprinted for the back gate.

Behind him a door slammed open. A woman yelled, "You kids stay out of here..."

Ferocious growling and snarling drowned out the rest of her words. A turmoil of high-pitched barking chased him all the way to the gate. No time to open it. The scarf flew off and fluttered on the wind behind him as he executed a perfect leap and landed on his feet running. Glancing back he saw a Pekinese shredding the scarf in a frenzy.

As he rounded the corner, his house came into view. Breathless, he pounded up the steps. The streetlight on his corner winked and grew into a steady light as he opened the door.

KITTENS IN THE CULVERT

After his fright with the yellow cat, Electrum searched the neighborhood checking Dusty's favorite places. She wouldn't go near the yard where the dog lurked on the porch. Even the boy had known not to get too close to that beast.

There was no sign of her under the evergreen bush where she liked to lie on the fragrant mulch and watch the birds. The sidewalk in front of the shed was still warm from the afternoon sun, but it was vacant.

He was checking the rafters under a porch roof when he heard the squeal of tires. Dread settled over him like a heavy weight.

Car doors thumped in the distance and he heard a woman's voice and a child crying. Circling above the houses, he scanned the area. At the end of a deserted street he saw the woods that concealed the gate home. A car was parked at the curb.

There was movement under the trees and he spotted a woman and a little girl under an oak tree. He spiraled down and landed in the top branches. Cautiously he worked his way down the trunk until he stood on a lower limb.

The tree offered bare concealment and gave little comfort against the cold. He hunched his shoulders and huddled into his flight jacket while trying to blend in with the gnarled bark.

On the ground beneath, a woman shoveled dirt into a hole while a young girl stood crying.

"It happened so fast the cat didn't feel anything, honey," the woman said.

"They didn't even stop," the girl sobbed.

The woman tapped the dirt down firmly. "I don't think they even knew they hit her." She put her arm around the girl.

Electrum stood up and took off his hat. With stiff fingers he shook a handful of sparkling dust from the brim. It floated down and caressed the girl's hand.

She wiped her tears leaving a wet glittering smear on her cheek. Taking her mother's hand she said, "It's okay, now. She won't be cold or hungry anymore."

"That's right, dear. She'll be safe here," her mother said. "No one will bother her."

Electrum watched as they walked back to their car. A verse from one of the old scrolls came to his mind and merged with his thoughts of Dusty.

From darkening clouds the lightening flashed

Revealing the mist swirling over the ground

Rumbling thunder wavered and crashed

And then a howl – a mournful sound

Confident, strong, a powerful cat

Emerged from out of the gray

On silent paws, he left no track

And by the nap of the neck, he bore her away.

Then cold and silence, empty and stark

As the damp air tingled with mystery

Then the sun broke through and pierced the dark

Like a cry of victory

New light fell on a fresh earthen mound

At the foot of a great oak tree

Leaves red and gold sprinkled over the ground

And Dusty's spirit was free

He floated down and hovered over the grave. A sweep of his hat sent pookah dust into the air. The car motor rumbled and the tires crunched over dirt on the asphalt. Its headlights swept over the ground in a wide arch exposing him in a haze of sparkling thought dust.

He darted back into the tree. Peering out from behind a thin twig, he watched the red taillights disappear around the corner. The dust faded and settled in a soft coating on the grave.

Full twilight. It was time to go home and break the news to Silverthorn. Without a cat there was no chance of finding the changeling plant.

A faint mew came from the drainage culvert. He leaned forward and peered at the gray, unpleasant opening. Darker patches inside moved in the cold air currents. He blinked. Were Dusty's kittens concealed in that place? Winter was just beginning. They would need care.

The girl, he thought, and turned back to the empty street. But it was too late. Even if he knew where they had gone, he couldn't just fly up and knock on the car window.

Maybe the boy he'd seen running through the garden would be friendly to homeless kittens. He didn't seem to have any love for dogs. He had entered that old house not far from here. It just might work.

Extending his wings, he stepped off the branch. The air swept past him chilling his wings and making his face tingle. He was getting too old for these outings.

He clambered into a juniper bush closer to the culvert where he was out of the wind and could watch the yawning opening.

An hour passed and there was still no sign of the kittens. Maybe he was mistaken about where the mewing had come from. He shoved his icy fingers into the jacket's lined pockets. The air held the promise of snow. It was time to head home before he was too stiff to fly.

As he reluctantly worked his way out from among the evergreen needles, two points of light winked in the growing darkness. He stopped. A brown kitten with dark spots stepped from the shadows of the drainage culvert and mewed. A second, smaller head poked out and the two huddled together.

Wind ruffled the smaller kitten's striped fur sending shivers through his skinny frame. He pressed up against the other kitten for warmth. It braced its legs and shifted to support the extra weight.

They looked hungry. He was sure Dusty had never left them this long before. Vague shadows skittered across the grass. A squirrel bounced across the yard and paused to look their way. Electrum tensed. It chattered, and he could see sharp teeth in the small head. It dashed around the tree into a pile of dry leaves.

The tiger kitten jumped as the wind pushed a candy wrapper along the ground with a rattling noise. Electrum took a handful of sparkling dust and let the wind carry it. It settled on the striped kitten's head and he sneezed.

Electrum glided to the ground. His form melted into the shape of a gray cat, the one shape he could assume. He'd tried others, but a cat was all he could accomplish.

The leaves rustled as he padded into view. The tiger leaped up and trotted forward. He paused and turned to call to his brother. Electrum led them over the cold sidewalk and across the damp lawn. Their plaintive cries followed him. He looked back. They hesitated. He waited, hoping the thought dust had been strong enough.

The light caught sparkles on the tiger's paw as he rubbed his ear. He shivered and started forward again. The other kitten followed with protesting cries.

The old two-story house with a sheltered porch came into view. Shutters in need of paint framed the windows. It loomed dark and menacing.

He led the kittens quickly across the yard. As they struggled up the tall steps to the landing, Electrum shimmered back into the form of a small man the color of pine needles. He flew up and rang the doorbell. In the cold air, the kitten's breath came out in thin puffs that quickly disappeared.

A woman opened the door and the kittens darted into the bush. She pushed open the screen and stepped outside. "Twilight," she muttered. "Things always happen at twilight."

Electrum flew over her head. She gasped as sparkles fell on her cheek. He glided through the hallway and ducked under a curio table in a dark corner.

"Who is it?" called a man's voice.

"Just kids playing pranks." She shut the door.

Electrum pressed back against the wall as the woman passed. Now he could only hope that the kittens would stay on the porch and wait.

NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING

Electrum perched on a rung and circled his arm around the table leg for balance. The house was sticky warm and the flat smell of indoor humans made his mouth dry.

The woman passed from one room to another, closing curtains, arranging cushions, and picking up half empty glasses and plastic toys.

From upstairs came the sound of laughter and roaring as the father chased Trevor down the hall.

She paused by Electrum's table. "Bedtime, boys," she called up the stairs. Her voice was pleasant with a hint of laughter, but the smell of plastic blending with her perfume made him want to sneeze.

He rubbed his nose and shifted uneasily. The whoops and thumping upstairs gradually quieted into muffled laughter. His chances of success would have been better with the girl. He wished he had more time, but the kittens needed someone now.

As the father came down the stairs, Electrum folded his wings tightly to hide any glimmer.

The parents settled onto a sofa in the other room and stared at lights and moving pictures in a box. Electrum's nose exploded in a sneeze, but it wasn't heard over the noise. A voice from the box droned like a lazy bee. The flight jacket was now stifling. His eyes closed and he rested his head against the table leg.

He dozed and dreamed of sleeping under heavy blankets in his hammock. The air was heavy and still. His throat felt dry and it was hard to breathe. Feeling himself falling he snapped awake and grabbed for the hammock. Instead his hands connected with the polished table leg. His fingers bumped over the elaborate carvings in the wood as he tumbled down the leg and hit the floor with a startled cry.

Alarmed, he scrambled behind the table. A trail of sparkles on the floor led to his hiding place. Only his ears shifted as he listened, but there was no sign anyone had noticed. Perhaps they had fallen asleep also. Slowly his muscles relaxed. He wasn't looking forward to the flight home.

Finally the noise from the box stopped. The parents turned off the lights and went to bed. The house became quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock as it marked the minutes to midnight.

Finally he shifted and stretched. Once again he took on the shape of a gray cat and padded up the carpeted stairs to the bedrooms on the second floor.

Loud snoring came from the first room. Crouching low, he crept past the open doorway. At the end of the hall, he stopped and hesitated. His ears twitched back, and a thin spray of sparkles scattered into the air. Still quiet.

He entered the boy's room. Holding his breath, he picked a path across the rug where plastic reptiles and armored warriors waged a battle.

The boy lay sleeping, his breathing was even and rhythmic. A turned back corner of the quilt revealed sheets with flying beasts bordering the edge. What was the fascination with ugly reptiles?

With a bound he landed noiselessly on the dark blue quilt. A chilly breeze through the open window made the curtain flap. Flickers of moonlight caught and reflected off the printed pattern of white stars, comets, and galaxies on the cloth.

The boy stirred in his sleep. The scattered freckles across his face reminded him of Silverthorn, but this boy had red highlights in his closely cropped hair.

Electrum resumed his pookah form. He removed his hat and shook it over the sleeping boy. Silver and gold dust drifted down and settled on his face. Some spilled on the quilt making the printed stars twinkle.

The pookah grinned with satisfaction. He flew over to the window which was open a crack. Obviously the boy had Silverthorn's love for the cold air. He pushed on the screen. It didn't budge. The rustle of sheets and a loud sigh sent a bead of sweat down his wing. Feeling panic rising, he grasped the mesh and tugged. A gust of cold air blew in his face clearing his head.

He pulled his dagger from his boot scabbard and sliced through the mesh making a small hole. With wings folded tight he squeezed through, but his hat caught on the screen. Thought dust spilled over the windowsill and his hat drifted away.

He shoved the mesh back in place and flew after his hat. It was floating on an updraft. With a deft movement he snatched it out of the air and clamped it firmly on his head.

Taking deep breaths of fresh air, he flew off to check on the kittens. They would need to be on the porch for his plan to work. Then he could go home.

Trevor stirred in his sleep, rolled over, and sat up in confusion.

"What a dream," he said softly. He slipped on his fleece jacket. By the time he located his slippers, his feet were cold. It felt good to curl his toes in the flannel lining.

When he reached the living room, he pushed a hassock in front of the door. It wobbled as he balanced and squinted through the peephole. On the porch, a small kitten looked up at the door. Its mouth opened in a silent mew.

The hassock thumped as Trevor jumped down. Just like in my dream, he thought. His slippers made a soft rubbing noise as he shuffled to the refrigerator. He poured milk into a bowl. In his hurry, it slopped over the side and he grabbed paper towels to sop up the mess.

His mother called down the stairs, "Trevor, are you up?"

"Just getting some milk," he called back.

"Okay, but hurry back to bed."

"Okay, Mom."

He opened the door and flinched as the hinges squeaked. The little brown tiger kitten looked up with wild, frightened eyes. In its haste to get away, it stumbled over its feet. Hissing and spitting it retreated to the top step. The fur on its scrawny tail and skinny body fluffed out. It looked like a quivering ball of angora yarn shot with static.

The liquid sloshed in the bowl as Trevor set it down. He called softly, "Come on little brown cat. Come and get some milk."

He stood up slowly and eased back into the house. Squeezing behind the sofa, he poked his head around the curtain. Wind ruffled the tiger kitten's fur as he took timid steps forward and stretched out his neck to sniff the bowl. He inhaled the milk and shook his head, sneezing in rapid little explosions. At first he had more milk on his face than in his mouth as he tried to figure out how to drink from the bowl. It took him several tries, but soon he was lapping up the liquid.

Suddenly another little kitten appeared. It was the same color, but spots dotted its fur. By the time they finished the milk, the kittens had stopped shaking. Soon they were chasing each other and tumbling in the grass.

"I shall call you Brownie," Trevor whispered. "Just like in my dream. Brownie and Bobcat. Well, maybe just Bob."

DISCOVERED

The next morning Trevor yawned and rubbed his eyes as he sat down to breakfast. His mother had her back to him as she stood at the sink rinsing a dish.

The cover of Sky Wonders Magazine stared at him across the table. His father was behind it, but all he could see was the top of his head. Between the fingers that held the magazine he read "Lunar Eclipses in the 20th Century."

He reached for the cereal box.

"Trevor," his mother said.

The tone of her voice made him set down the box. He looked up to see her holding a dripping bowl and he winced.

"I found this on the porch," she said. "Would you happen to know how it got there?"

Suddenly he was wide-awake, but no suitable answer came to mind. "I had some milk last night."

"You did – or two little kittens did?"

"Are they still there?" He rushed to the living room and knelt on the sofa. Pulling back the curtains he looked outside.

He heard her footsteps behind him. "All I saw were two little tails as they disappeared into the bush," she said.

Trevor scanned the tangled branches that pressed up against the porch. Then he spotted the glint of shinning eyes. "Can I feed them?"

Her mouth tightened. "Now Trevor," she began.

He interrupted. "They're all alone and cold, and hungry, and scared. Please Mom?"

She studied him for a moment and her shoulders drooped. "Just this once. But not with this bowl."

He followed her into the kitchen. She took a chipped bowl from under the sink, filled it with milk and placed it in the microwave. As it hummed she knelt down. Her fingers were warm as she grasped his shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"Your father is allergic to cats. We can't keep them. The mother must be somewhere about."

His dad put down his magazine. He shrugged and gave Trevor that crooked conspiratorial smile.

"They could stay on the porch," Trevor said. "I would feed them and take care of them."

"What do you think, Lil?" his dad said. "They shouldn't be any problem if they stay on the porch."

His mother looked shocked. "What would the neighbors think if we kept wild, feral cats on the porch?"

"They aren't wild, Mom. Brownie practically knows me already."

His dad raised his eyebrows and his mom sighed.

"Maybe you shouldn't name them, Trevor. It will only make it harder," his mom said. "We'll call around and see if one of the shelters will take them."

Trevor took the bowl out to the porch. He could see little eyes looking out of the bush.

"Come on Brownie," he said softly. "Warm milk." He sat on the steps a few feet away and waited. After several minutes his muscles started to cramp from holding still. Just as he was beginning to think he should go inside, there was movement in the bush. One little foot timidly poked out. Then a nose. Trevor waited.

Brownie crept across the porch up to the bowl and began lapping up the milk. Bob soon joined him. As soon as the last drop was licked up, they both bolted back to the safety of the bush.

Trevor picked up the bowl and saw his parents watching from the window.

BRANCHING OUT BUNGALOWS

Electrum looked out from the top platform in the palace. No other trees reached high enough to hinder the cold wind.

In the distance, the harbor bustled with morning activity. Loaded ships were already drifting into the current. Glowstones imbedded in the Silver Gate were still visible in the dim morning. They formed an arch that was reflected in the water making a circle of multicolored lights. He wished he were on the river now in a ship of his own, getting ready to sail through that magical circle. Even shivering in the wet mist around the base of the palace would be preferable to this.

Silverthorn had reacted with grim silence to the news about Dusty. Tension now hung in the air behind him as the prince pondered his options.

"I know you're disappointed." Electrum's voice was almost a whisper. "There was nothing I could do. I got there too late."

There was no answer.

Electrum turned back to the room where sunlight was beginning to push back the shadows. The prince stood with his fingers coiled into tight fists.

"We can't find the plant without a cat," Electrum said. "We don't know what it looks or smells like. The plan won't work now."

"We need another cat." Silverthorn's voice was flat.

Electrum felt frustration mounting. "Dusty was it. We don't have a backup plan. Cats are natural predators. You have to bond with them when they're kittens or it's far too dangerous even to get close." He felt a shiver of fear as he remembered the yellow cat climbing the wall.

"What about the kittens?"

"You can't spend every twilight in the Tween World with a kitten. You have responsibilities. Soon it will be too cold even for you to fly."

"I have a flight suit. It's good for below freezing."

"Humph. It's not like our winters. They have clouds and snow. Your suit won't protect you from their storms. Sometimes the snowfalls are blinding. You can't tell which way you're flying. You might end up spending hours on a light pole waiting for it to stop. By then it would be dark. If the skies cleared you would be caught in their harsh moonlight. Think like a dragonfly."

"They don't have dragonflies in the winter."

"That's my point."

"We could bring one of the kittens here, and we wouldn't have to worry about the weather. They're not very big. I could raise him in the palace. Surely I could bond with him if he were here."

Electrum's eyes got big. "You want to bring a cat here? To the palace?"

"Why not?"

"Need you ask, Ralphie? How would you feed it? More importantly how would you prevent it from feeding on us?"

"We could build some kind of pen..."

"A pen. Wouldn't Sterling just love to hear this plan? He already campaigns to have the gates closed. This would bring others over to his side. I can hear him now..." He stood up straight and rubbed his thumb over an imaginary dagger handle. In a false bass voice he said, "For the safety of the people we must close the gates! Even the gatekeepers couldn't argue with that."

Silverthorn laughed. "Father would never allow that."

"I'm not so sure. He thinks I was rash to allow you to join the merchant pollywogs. Bringing a kitten here would convince him I was crazy."

"Okay, not the palace. We could hide him in the forest."

Electrum threw up his hands. "If he's not familiar with his own world, he would be useless to you. Here he would only bring destruction."

Silverthorn's shoulders slumped.

"Let's give it a rest," Electrum said. "Neither of us is fit for study today. No sense in continuing the frustration."

"I'll think of something," Silverthorn said. He disappeared down the narrow steps notched into the trunk that led below.

Electrum sighed. They needed some other way of identifying the plant. How could the ancients have left out a description? He would make another search through the old scrolls.

He stood at the edge of the platform. The morning mist was gone. Most of the glowstones over the gate had faded with the rising sun. Only a few twinkles gave indication of their presence.

One slender finger of water branched off from the river in a wide lazy loop. At the end it widened into a pool surrounded by misshapen trees. The Ship Growers Pond.

He imagined he could see the sprites working in the trees as they formed the ships from the living branches. It had been years since he visited the ship growers.

The fresh morning was perfect for looking at retirement trees. The new neighborhood was just beyond the Ship Growers Pond.

Buttoning up his jacket and pressing his ears tight against his hat, he stepped off the platform. The cool breeze pushed against his wings and blew away the troubled thoughts. Grinning, he headed toward the harbor.

Most of the ships were done sailing for the year. Only one was still at the cargo dock. It was the Salamander. Workers were swarming over it. It looked like Ragnar was trying to squeeze in a few more runs before ice set in on the Tween World's Passage River. If so, he missed the morning twilight.

He passed over the Ship Growers Pond and landed in the new grove of trees. Benches dotted the clearing, and sitting hammocks swung from low limbs.

An arbor marked the beginning of a path covered in pine needles. A wooden sign nestled between two potted plants read "Welcome to Branching out Bungalows."

Electrum felt a stab of disappointment when he read the smaller print, "Grown from Tween World Seeds."

Imported trees didn't grow to Tween World proportions, but they were taller and stronger than native trees.

The most famous in the realm was the Palace Tree, which had been growing for centuries. That was okay for the king, Electrum thought, but it would make these homes expensive.

The imported trees produced only sterile seeds. Collecting seeds from the Tween World was a highly profitable but dangerous endeavor.

A parchment stuck to the side of the arbor flapped in the breeze. In wavy handwriting it read: Everyone's gone to the Ship Launching. Feel free to look about. If you find something you like, submit a bid. An arrow pointed down to a small box. Still plenty of selections left. Make your choice today.

He chuckled. Looks like he could have his choice if he could find anything affordable. The pine needles muffled his footsteps. It was quiet. Unnaturally quiet.

The path branched in multiple directions and led to tree homes along the way. Small signs at each juncture listed the price of the homes. First the paths led to oaks, then beach. The prices slowly dropped. He passed by the maples, but the prices were still high.

He was ready to turn back when he came to a narrow dirt trail that led away from the grove. The price sign drooped to one side. When he straightened it out, he had to look twice. Now this was something he could afford.

His curiosity piqued, he padded down the dirt path. Occasional pinecones littered the trail. Here there were young trees not big enough for habitation. Ahead he saw an evergreen bush where the trail ended. As he neared it, he realized he was on the edge of a bluff. The bush was the top of a pine tree growing out of the side of the cliff, its roots far below him. A rope bridge led across to a platform on a top limb. Perfect for transporting heavy items.

Built in benches and tables made the many platforms cozy and comfortable. Sitting and sleeping hammocks swung invitingly from branches.

A lower platform offered privacy from the trees above and provided an amazing view. The air around the Ship Growers Pond was full of sprites stringing ropes from the branches. Crowds lined the shore. The sound of voices and laughter drifted up from below. He took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of burning sweet wood and baking pastries.

Impulsively, he launched from the platform and flew down to join the party. His wings were tiring by the time he reached the end of the waterway and dropped through the twisted trees to the ground. He hurried toward the pool.

Sprites scrambled through the trees near the water. Stretched branches creaked with musical rhythm and hammering and chopping punctuated their singing. He found an old log and sat down to watch.

"Thinking of buying a ship?"

Electrum looked up. "Ragnar! I didn't expect to see you here."

"I could say the same for you, my friend." With a grunt and a wheeze he eased himself down on the log. "Have you picked out the one you'd like?"

"I wasn't planning on buying a ship. Tough day at the palace and I just slipped away to watch the growers."

Ragnar gave him a sly grin. "That plush royal life can be pretty stressful."

"That explains why I'm here. But you? Have you decided to replace the Salamander?"

"Bite your tongue. I had a special delivery for Simon, but they couldn't unload until this morning. Seems very particular about it."

"What is this mystery cargo?"

Ragnar shrugged. "Verry secretive," he drawled out the words and winked.

"Probably more linen for his precious scrolls."

"I wish. Took several tough dock workers to haul the crates off the Salamander."

"Crates? How many did he get?"

"Three. All secured tightly and stamped with the Gold Realm's Council Seal and accompanied by a pookah merchant."

"A pookah merchant here? They don't usually like to travel and certainly not this late in the year. Anyone we know?"

"He's called PoJoe. I've seen him around. Has a shop in the mining district. Very upper class. Usually caters to the wealthy that have no where else to spend their coins."

"A shipment for the King then."

Ragnar snorted. "If that crate was full of merchandise from PoJoe's shop, your king has more wealth in his treasury than I can imagine."

Above them the sprites called to each other as they lashed one thick branch to the tree so its weight could not drag it into the water prematurely. Coils and bands around the wood had trained the growth into the shape of a ship.

Ragnar said, "Even with these fast growing trees from the Tween World, it takes a couple seasons. Fascinating how the ship is fully formed before it's even severed from the tree. Used to be they just sawed off a limb and hollowed it out."

Electrum chuckled. "Is that how the Salamander was made?"

Ragnar snorted in disgust. "The Salamander was one of the first free formed ships produced. These new ships got nothing on her."

Debris fell into the water. The waves rocked a small boat tied to a stump.

"What about that ship?" Electrum pointed to the wobbling boat. "She might interest you. You're about the same age."

"Ah, the Dragonfly. An unassuming little vessel."

"Is that what you call it? Unassuming?"

"She's a bit waterlogged and has a few cracks and creaks, but she's still seaworthy."

"Are you saying you'd sail her through the Tween World?"

"Sure. Just needs a little love and attention. With a wee bit of work she'd be sound enough. Most pookahs don't want to bother though. That's why the sprites just use her around the pond."

"Wouldn't mind a boat I could sail myself or with a hand picked crew," Electrum said wistfully.

"To carry a small load, you wouldn't even need a crew for the Dragonfly. Some of the pollywogs can be a nuisance at times."

"I guess that's part of being young."

"It's more than youthful shenanigans. Sterling has strategically placed some of his loyal favorites on our ships. Doesn't pay to be free with your speech around them."

"Sterling's paranoia must be growing. He thinks the ships are contamination."

"Desperate times lead to desperate measures," Ragnar said with a smile. He struggled to his feet. "Looks like it will be a couple hours before they release the ship from the tree and drop it in the water.

Tomorrow is my last run for this season. I better check on how the unloading of the Salamander is going. But first some lunch. Would you like to join me?"

"No," Electrum said. "I'm going to fly back to the new grove up on the hill. There's a nice pine up there available for sale. Think I'll put a deposit down. Might be a good investment for retirement. I'll need a place to live."

Ragnar shaded his eyes and looked out across the pond. "You'd have a good view of the ship growers. Maybe you ought to think about a vessel like the Dragonfly. It could be a good investment too."

After Electrum dropped his offer into the deposit box he returned to the pine. His timing was perfect. He settled into a sitting hammock facing the pond. The sprites below labored to chop off the branch.

It dipped and wavered with a loud cracking noise. Only the rope now held it as it slid gracefully down, and smacked into the pond. Water splashed high and drenched the spectators sitting in the front rows.

Lively music erupted from a band of musicians, covering the shouts and laughter. The new ship bobbed in the water and cheers rose.

He stretched out his feet and scooted farther back into the hammock. This tree would be perfect for retirement. When he craved a little excitement he could catch a ride on the Salamander. Maybe that was what PoJoe was doing. Just breaking the monotony of being in a shop every day.

But a shipment with the Council Seal? What could Simon be ordering from the Gold Realm that required that much secrecy and security? And did Sterling know about it?

SHELTERS AND STAR GLOBES

January

Trevor crossed off another entry on the list of shelters. Only one name was left. If it were full, surely his mom would have to let him keep the kittens.

"What's the next number," she said. Her voice sounded tired. She rubbed her eyes and picked up the phone.

Trevor read off the number. His mom listened for awhile, then hung up the phone. "A recording," she said. "They're not even answering." Her voice took on a mocking tone, "Our shelter is overflowing. Please do not leave a message unless you are interested in adopting a kitten." She picked up the phone. "I had no idea there were so many kittens in the state. Who's next?"

Trevor drew a heavy line through the last name. "That's it, Mom. You called them all."

She closed her eyes and collapsed back in the chair. "Twenty shelters within a hundred miles and not one has room for two little kittens. We couldn't even find someone to talk to us and give us some advice."

Trevor blurted out, "I guess we'll have to keep them."

"I'll check the Internet again to see if I missed any other options." She smiled at him. "Feed them when it's dark," she told him. "No need for the neighbors to know."

At first the kittens hid in the bush next to the house whenever anyone was around. Any loud noises sent them scrambling off the porch to disappear in the tangle.

When his mother searched the Internet for other shelters, the only help she found was a pattern for a simple wooden structure. Trevor and his father spent the weekend building it on a corner of the porch. The natural wood and green painted roof blended in with the bush and was hardly noticeable from the street.

The skies had been gray all day. A soft snow began to fall and collect on the shelter roof. Now that he wasn't moving, Trevor felt the cold.

An icy breeze blew across the yard picking up debris and swirling it through the air. One brown and green leaf separated from the others and lazily drifted upward to the top of the streetlight. The light came on, starting with a pinpoint and growing into a bright glow. The falling snow sparkled silver in its beam.

"Nice work," his father said as he stepped back to admire the shelter. "We finished just in time."

Trevor shivered and rubbed his cold hands together. "At least it will keep the snow off," he said.

"I think we can do better than that," his mother said stepping past him. She knelt down and poked in a soft blanket. On the top she placed a couple treats. "Come inside now and let them explore."

In the evenings, Trevor sat on the porch hoping Brownie would get used to him. At first all he got was a cold seat and numb toes.

One night he slipped out after dinner and sat down on the top step. Color faded from the evening sky and one bright star stood out in the empty expanse.

Brownie crept up and sat down beside him on the step. He was getting bigger and now had a thick fur coat. Holding his breath, Trevor reached out with one finger and scratched the kitten's back. It purred and leaned against his hand but quickly skittered into the bush when the door opened.

Trevor's dad sat next to him, a book tucked under his arm. He took a noisy breath and blew into what looked like a small black beach ball with white lines painted on it. When it was fully inflated, he pressed the plug into the hole.

"Long as you're spending all this time outside at night, you might as well learn the stars." He handed him a small flashlight.

"What's the ball for?"

"This is a star globe. Light please," he said and tapped the ball.

Trevor flipped on the flashlight and a soft red beam shone out. "It's red," he said.

"That's so your eyes will stay adjusted to the dark and you'll be able to see more stars. You don't need it yet, but you will once it gets really dark out." He turned the globe. "Here we are - Orion." He traced out the pattern of the constellation, and then pointed it out in the sky. "Winter is the best time for star gazing."

"Wouldn't it be nicer in the summer when it's warm?"

"There's less interference when the air is cold. Heat causes distortion in the air."

Cold crept up Trevor's back. As the sky darkened, other stars began to appear. They twinkled like bright snowflakes. One brilliant star low on the horizon stood out from the rest.

Trevor turned the ball around looking for it, but the white marks flowed together in meaningless lines and dots. He'd never be able to figure them out. A faint siren wailed in the distance.

Chattering meows and rustles burst from the bush. Trevor dropped the ball as something flitted past his head. Bob sprung out of the foliage and dashed toward them. Inches away, the kitten skidded to a stop landing on his rear. With a hissing spit, he turned and retreated into the bush.

"That looked like a small bat," his dad said. "There shouldn't be any bats out in January..."

As Trevor picked up the ball he glanced around. The bright star blinked as if something had blocked it out for a second. "What's that?" he asked.

"That is what the ancients called a wanderer. It's a planet. That's Jupiter. The fourth brightest object in the sky. Only the sun, the moon and Venus are brighter."

He started to explain that he hadn't meant the star, when silver sparkles streaked across the sky.

"Wow," his dad said. "Did you see that?"

Trevor nodded.

"It must have been a shooting star, but it was the strangest one I've ever seen."

They stayed until their fingers were numb with cold, but they didn't see any more shooting stars.

As they got up to go inside, his dad handed him the book.

Trevor shone the red light on the cover and squinted to read the print. "The Stars. Catchy title."

"Give it a chance. That book is a good down to earth resource for finding your way through the heavens. We'll have to think about getting you a telescope so you can really see the planets."

It might be a good guide through the heavens, but Trevor doubted he'd be able to find his way through the book. It all seemed so technical. Brandon would probably love it.

He glanced at the shelter. Now the kittens had a place to sleep where they would be safe from dogs. The blanket was bunched around the opening, and the tips of two sets of ears poked above the folds. He tucked the star book under his arm and followed his dad inside.

WHAT'S IN THE BOX

Snug in his hammock, Electrum lay listening to the morning sounds of palace activity. Sprites passed by his door in a continuous stream. He yawned and reluctantly swung his feet out of the hammock. They bumped against the old book he had dropped there last night. The hammock pitched and swayed as he leaned over. Instinctively he sat up before it tipped him out on the floor.

A month had passed since he put the deposit on his retirement tree. A month of pouring through all the books he had inherited and collected. Last night he had finally finished the last one. None had revealed any additional information on the changeling plant. The only way to identify it was with a cat.

He rubbed his eyes. That only left the palace archives. That meant asking Simon, but how was he to do that without provoking his curiosity.

If only there was a way to find the plant without a cat. But all the references listed a cat as the only way to identify it. Even that wasn't foolproof. Some cats showed no interest in it. All of them were fickle and most were dangerous. Even if they found another cat and managed not to get eaten, they might end up with the wrong plant. Wouldn't that be a fine mess?

He dragged out his storage bag, a gift from the King when he first took the job as Grand Pookah twenty years ago. Faded spots and weather stains marred its surface. The royal seal adorning the flap was once brilliant silver. Now it was blackened with age.

He stuffed the book inside with the others. Last night he had tripped over the bag's open flap. This time he made sure he closed it securely and slid it all the way under the hammock.

There was no time this morning to ponder ancient riddles. He and Silverthorn had an appointment with the King to discuss the upcoming Eclipse Night.

He threw on his crumpled gray robe. The wrinkles were now firmly creased into the fabric. He tried to smooth it out, but it looked worse than ever. It was too late to do anything about it now and too late for a proper breakfast. He gulped down a biscuit left over from a couple nights ago. Oil had soaked through the wrapper and he wiped his fingers on a leaf.

The stale bread was a heavy lump in his stomach as he rushed down the corridor. Pain stabbed his side with every step. The robe swirled around his legs slowing his progress, but at least it kept out the cold air. His retirement tree was going to have windbreaks he decided. No more of these shivering cold breezes.

He hoped Silverthorn was waiting in the library as they had agreed. The King would be pacing and muttering about incompetence if they were late.

He rounded the corner and skidded to a stop. Tanner's huge form lurked at the library door as if listening. Electrum held his breath wondering what he would say if Tanner turned around. After a long moment the guard marched away, his heavy boots rapping on the wooden floor. When he was out of sight, Electrum slipped into the library.

Shadows shifted around the room followed by rustling noises and muttering. There was a flash of wings.

"Silverthorn, what's going...?" A figure collided full force into him knocking out his breath. He found himself gasping on the floor with scrolls cascading off his chest.

"Pa-pardon me," a young sprite stammered as he scrambled across the floor gathering up the scrolls. He bumped into tables and seemed always on the verge of tripping.

It was Gilder, Simon's son. When he matured, he would be tall like his father. Right now he was having difficulty just maneuvering his long legs around the crowded room.

Electrum started to sit up when Gilder grasped his arm and pulled him to his feet. He picked up the hat and shook it off before handing it back to the pookah. "I trust you are not hurt."

"Humph," Electrum said, and pushed the hat firmly onto his head. "What was Tanner doing here?"

Gilder stooped down and tucked a long scroll under his arm. "Tanner?" his voice squeaked and he almost dropped the small intricate box he was carrying.

"Tanner. You remember him." He extended his hand over his head. "Tall fellow? Dark armor? Leering countenance?"

Gilder folded his wings and slipped past him. He peered up and down the hall. "I don't see him."

Electrum took a deep breath and tried again. "I was looking for Silverthorn. We're going to be late. Do you know where he is?"

"Gilder stammered. "He's – he's not here."

"I can see he's not here," Electrum said. "Isn't it your job as his valet to know where he's at?"

Gilder nodded.

Electrum sighed with impatience. "Never mind. I'll check his room."

He strode down the hallway shaking his head. When he glanced back, Gilder was jogging after him with the end of the scroll slowly sliding from his grasp. The end bounced along the floor.

"Simon would be appalled at how you're treating those manuscripts," he called over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir," Gilder said as he hopped to one side, trying to shift the scroll back into position while clutching the box.

They arrived at the prince's room and Gilder ducked past the pookah and lifted the door tapestry. The scroll finally escaped from his grasp. He scrambled after it as it rolled across the floor and bumped against Silverthorn's feet. The prince looked up from a book.

Gilder scooped up the scroll. "The Grand Pookah," he whispered loudly.

Electrum stepped inside mumbling. "It shouldn't be a surprise."

Gilder crossed to where cracks in the tree bark made natural niches in the wall. He set the small box in one of the cubbyholes. Sparkles glittered around the seam where the lid closed as though something was leaking out. Electrum took a step forward to see better.

Silverthorn closed his book with a thump. Electrum jumped.

"I'm sorry I didn't meet you as planned," Silverthorn said.

"Why weren't you in the library?"

"Guards," he said. "I missed Sterling's class this morning and was trying to avoid a confrontation. I sent Gilder to meet you."

"We met," Electrum said rubbing his arm.

"Well, then. Are we ready to make plans for when worlds collide?"

"Why not. Another collision seems inevitable."

Silverthorn took the pookah's arm and steered him out of the room. "Let's not keep father waiting."

The meeting was a mere formality. Silverthorn managed to slip out almost as soon as it started leaving Electrum to pacify the King.

A constant stream of messenger sprites interrupted, fragmenting the meeting till Electrum could not see how they were accomplishing anything. Each time, Simon smoothed things over. The King never focused on the details and seemed contented with whatever Simon proposed.

An hour passed and then another. Lunchtime came and went. Finally he was dismissed and escaped into the hall. Simon fell into step beside him.

The afternoon sun cast muted light on the crowded hallways. Simon leaned close and murmured, "Perhaps you have a moment to join me in the library."

Electrum had been hoping for a bite to eat and a nap, but he couldn't turn down the king's aide. "Of course," he said.

With the door tapestry in place, the library was dark. Simon led the way to a desk in the back where he uncovered a small glowstone lamp. The light cast shadows on his face making it look careworn. Electrum wondered just how old the sprite was. He still stood tall and showed no sign of aging weakness.

"I need to send a messenger to the Gold Realm," Simon said. "I was hoping you could help."

Electrum's stomach pinched and his head felt a little light, but all thoughts of a nap vanished. The last errand Simon had sent him on had been to confront Sterling at the dock. "I will locate a pollywog for you," he said, hoping that would suffice.

"I was hoping you might make the trip - if your schedule allows."

Electrum plopped into a nearby chair. With resignation he said, "How can I help?"

Simon smiled. "I would go myself, but," he shrugged.

Electrum nodded. Being a pookah wasn't always an advantage. Simon couldn't travel between the worlds. His wings had changed years ago.

"I need to check on the progress of a tapestry that Mirta is creating."

"Another tapestry? After all that effort to get Sterling to release the shipment the King didn't like the first one?"

"This one is not for the King. It has special significance. I would count it a favor if you would be so kind as to make a visit to her shop and see how soon it will be finished. I am most eager for its arrival."

At least I don't have to face Sterling, Electrum thought. And a visit to Mirta was always pleasant. He stood up. "I can get passage with Ragnar in a few weeks, once the ice clears and the Passage River is open."

"That's most accommodating of you." He handed him a sealed envelope. "It is most important that she receive this at the first available opportunity."

Electrum raised his eyebrows and took the envelope.

Simon said, "It's payment and the usual paperwork. But there are also some special instructions for Mirta."

"Perhaps you should keep this until I am ready to leave."

"I'll feel better knowing it's in your hands rather than with me."

"This is about more than tapestries isn't it?"

Simon nodded. "Let's just say the seal should only be broken by Mirta, and it will be safer in your keeping."

Electrum slipped the envelope into his pocket. It felt thick and heavy against his chest.

FACING THE FEAR

February

Trevor's parents had stopped talking about finding a home for the cats. Winter was almost over, but the mornings were still cold.

"Hurry up, Trevor," his mother said. "You still have to feed the cats before you leave for school."

Trevor trudged to the closed door. Brownie pressed against the window, his meows muffled by the glass. Trevor scooped cat food onto the platter.

A soft thump was followed by scratching on the door. He glanced toward the kitchen hoping his mother hadn't noticed. Food spilled off the platter as he hurried out. He had to push Brownie aside to get the screen door open.

"No scratching," he said in a harsh whisper. The cat stood up on his hind legs and tried to pull the plate of food down with his paws. He crunched the fish shaped bits and arched his back as Trevor ran his fingers through the fur.

Several new scratches marred the door surface near the bottom. Not that it mattered. The whole porch needed painting.

Brownie tried to purr and eat at the same time. A musical sound faded in and out. Trevor looked out across the yard, listening. Like soft singing it mixed with Brownie's crunching.

Morning sunlight touched the overcast sky giving the clouds a pale glow. Next to the shelter, light streamed through holes in the bush. Trevor could see two eyes looking at him. Bob was waiting for his opportunity. He picked up the frozen bowl of water and went inside. Bob crept out of the bush.

On his way back to the porch with a bowl of fresh water, Trevor heard plaintive mewing.

"I'm coming, Brownie," he said. With each step, small splashes slid down the side of the bowl. His foot crunched on the spilled food while he balanced the bowl in one hand and pulled the door open.

He stopped with his hand on the screen door. A large black dog crouched on the bottom step. Its snapping mouth revealed sharp yellow teeth. From its throat came a low rumble.

Bob was nowhere to be seen. Brownie was backed against the wall with fluffed tail and arched back. He hissed and looked up. The dog's muscles tensed for the spring.

Trevor flung the door open and scooped up Brownie. With a horrible bark, the dog charged up the steps. Yelling in terror, Trevor flung out his hand. The bowl of water flew out of his grasp. It landed with a shattering crash, and water exploded into the dog's face. With a wild yelp it twisted in mid air and disappeared down the street.

Brownie buried his head under Trevor's arm. He pulled his jacket over the trembling body. Ice crystals were already forming on the spilled water.

There was a rustle in the bush, and Bob poked his head though the leaves. The branch quivered. Gold sparkles shot up and briefly shimmered in the sunlight.

A warm hand squeezed Trevor's shoulder making him jump.

"All you have to do is stand up to them," his dad said. "I'm proud of you."

Trevor tried to smile. He didn't want to admit that he hadn't thrown the bowl. It had just slipped out of his hand when he threw his arm up to shield Brownie.

EARLY PASSAGE

March

Electrum kept the letter with him at all times. During the day it was buttoned into his pocket, and at night he slept with it tucked under his pillow. It was a relief when the King finally made the announcement that the Passage River was open.

The Salamander was always the first ship to make the spring passage. Ragnar had arrived the evening before. Reluctantly he had agreed to take Electrum back to the Gold Realm as a passenger, though he warned the accommodations would not be plush.

Electrum fingered the thick envelope. It had a few smudges on it, but Simon's seal was still neatly spread across the flap. As he had done numerous times in the last few weeks, he held it up to the glowstone. Nothing showed through. Disappointed, he tucked it into his jacket pocket and buttoned it down securely. It would still be chilly in the Tween World.

Simon was probably with the King, but he wanted a quick word with the librarian before setting off on his errand to the Gold Realm. He pressed his hat firmly over his ears and headed out.

The library was the only room in the palace tree with solid walls. They protected the scrolls from sunlight and morning mist.

He expected the room to be dark, but light from a glowstone seeped under the door tapestry. He was in luck. Simon must be doing more of his endless cataloging. He pulled back the tapestry and stepped inside.

The cloth slipped unnoticed from his fingers and fell back in place. Instead of Simon, Silverthorn was hunched over a table. In front of him a yellowed scroll lay open, its edges tattered from age. The prince looked up.

"Oh, hello, Electrum." He stood and let the scroll close. "I thought you'd be at the dock by now. Aren't you heading to the Gold Realm for the day?"

"I was looking for Simon. Shouldn't you be having your lessons with Sterling right about now?"

"Is it that late already? I was just heading that way." He crossed the room. "Shall we go?" He took the pookah's arm and reached for the tapestry.

Electrum looked over his shoulder. Gilder was sliding the scroll back onto the shelf. He frowned. "What were you reading? Isn't it a little early for you to be musing over scrolls?"

Silverthorn led him out into the hall where they wove their way past servants and well-dressed nobility.

"You're always telling me to study. Just taking your advice." Two ladies passed between them and Silverthorn stepped away. "You can vouch for me with Sterling," he said. His strides lengthened.

"Wait," Electrum said trying to get around the ladies without appearing too rude.

Silverthorn waved. "Have a good trip," his voice drifted back, and he disappeared down the corridor.

Electrum debated following, but Ragnar's ship would not wait. The envelope crinkled in his chest pocket. He would talk to the prince when he returned. He headed for the dock.

Captain Ragnar leaned over the railing, his fat middle pressing through the bars. He shifted the stem of grass he was chewing to the other side of his mouth. "Hoy, Electrum."

"Hoy, Ragnar. How's the latest crop of pollywogs? I trust you'll get some work out of them this year."

"Ha! They are all probably planning to jump ship and play in the Tween World as soon as they get through the gate."

"Not under your watchful eye."

"Don't suppose you have any more at home like Silverthorn? A hard worker that one."

"I'm lucky I don't have any more like him to raise. Did you save me a spare corner?"

Ragnar chuckled. "No spare corners on this load, but you can join me in my cabin. Got a new batch of tiger lily extract."

As Electrum boarded, the captain was leaning over the bow and patting the head of the enamel salamander figurehead attached to the front of the ship.

"For luck," Ragnar said. He led the way, weaving through crates and barrels secured to the deck and entered the small cabin. Electrum squeezed through the door and sat down on a crate where he could look out the wide opening that served as a window.

Ragnar turned around with a wood flask in his hand. With a grunt he settled into the only chair.

"What's so urgent about this trip to the Gold Realm?' he asked as he poured a clear orange liquid into quartz glasses.

"Simon has sent me on another of his missions."

"It's not regarding any of my shipments," Ragnar said with a twinkle in his eye. "What dreaded official are you dealing with this time? Are you perhaps carrying a message from one of the gatekeepers?"

Electrum said with mock despair, "I'm afraid my meeting is with Mirta."

"Mirta! He should be sending someone with the flair and prestige of a world voyager. A ship's captain, such as myself, would be more suited to carry a message to the elegant lady."

Electrum grinned. "A rogue like you? Some things are better handled by the educated."

"You were happy enough to hang out with this rogue when we were just tads and explored the Tween World together."

"We did have some great adventures jumping ship and exploring. A few times I didn't think we were going to make it back to the ship before she entered the gate, but we always made it just in time."

"So how are things at your bookish palace? Rumors on the ships say the prince doesn't share your enthusiasm for education. They have him forsaking his studies and pining away for a gold merchant girl."

Electrum picked up his glass. The drink had a heavy, earthy scent. It went down almost tasteless, but left a lingering warm sensation in his throat.

"Half truths and embellished tales," he said with a wave of his hand. "Same sort as when we were tads and serving with the pollywogs."

"Like the tales that we had secret communications with the gatekeepers?" Ragnar said.

"Exactly. Tads are fascinated with the secretiveness. They all want to be connected with the keepers and learn how the gates work. Some isolationists, like Sterling, want to know for the wrong reasons."

"Yes, if the art of keeping the gates open became known, it would be all too easy to close them forever or to wreck havoc with the merchant trade."

"Or so we've been told," Electrum said. "It might all be just stories. The pollywogs used to say we morphed into dragons and fought giants in the Tween World."

Ragnar chuckled. "I would have loved to have been able to do half the things they credited us with. It was the lessons on The Perils of the Passage River that fed their fancies. Once they were taught the dangers of sailing, their imaginations ran wild."

Electrum nodded and took another drink. "The lessons on commerce were lost on them."

"I think they slept through the lessons on commerce, and bartering. I know I slept through some of them." His stomach jiggled as he laughed.

Electrum's eyes were half shut as he listened to the rhythmic slap of the water against the ship. In his mind he could hear the teacher's voice murmuring about the price of glowstones and wooden casks.

The ship drifted out of the harbor toward a mountainside where the water flowed into a yawning hole lined with quartz. It opened like the mouth of a large cave. Spots of light shone over the arched top and a heavy glowing mist filled the inside.

The river and the ships wouldn't appear on the other side of the mountain, but would emerge into the Tween World.

As they neared the opening, Ragnar excused himself to concentrate on cloaking the ship. Electrum looked out over the water. Other ships in the harbor were also being cloaked by their captains. They shimmered and took on the form of tree limbs or driftwood, each with its own distinctive disguise.

One looked like a gnarled oak log and another resembled a pine limb with glossy needles. Although the Salamander still looked the same to those on board, Electrum knew it now appeared to be a floating birch log with peeling white bark.

As they passed under the arch, the glowing mist enveloped the ship hiding everything else from view. Only random spots of light seeping through the vapor gave hints of stone walls. The mist was thicker than Electrum could ever remember. It was cold and damp and lay heavy on his skin making it prickle. They seemed suspended in space. Time lost its meaning as if the gate were holding its breath. Then the mist cleared, and morning sunlight from the Tween World crept over the ship.

Electrum glanced back. The opening was filled with the bright mist. Green ivy vines grew out of patches of brown grass. They covered the arch and fluttered over the opening.

The air here was brisk with an invigorating chill. Trees in the distance had a touch of color where they were just starting to bud. The river carried them past huge holly bushes spotted with bright berries from the last season. The bushes kept the eastern bank covered in shadow. Farther up river he could see a giant's wooden footbridge.

Ragnar stirred and opened his eyes. "The passage mist is heavier this year. Hard to maneuver. It feels old and sluggish."

"Maybe it's us that are getting old and sluggish."

"Humph. Speak for yourself. The mist was definitely thinner when I made my first trip through the gate as a young captain. Why I could practically see the Tween World before the Salamander poked its nose out."

"Your eyes were younger back then, but you still didn't see that little girl," Electrum said.

"She may have been young, but she wasn't all that little," Ragnar said. "Not sure how I missed her. She stood on that bridge and pulled my ship right out of the water. Pollywogs scattered everywhere." He placed his hands on his belly. "I wasn't as prosperous then, and I still just had time to take to the air before my wings could be drenched."

Electrum chuckled. "You caused quite a stir with the merchants. No one had ever heard of a pookah confronting a human before."

He shrugged. "I was young. Not a rational thought in my head at the time. All I could think of was not losing my first ship. It wasn't paid for you know. I'll never forget the look of surprise on her face when I flew up and had my say."

"It must have been quite a speech."

"Can't remember a word of it, but she must have been impressed."

A shadow spread over them as they passed under the bridge.

"Before she put the ship back in the water, she took the broach off her collar and drove it into the bow of my ship. Right then I named the ship the Salamander. It's been there ever since. I sort of see it as my symbol of safe passage."

"You've built a tidy shipping career."

"I manage. I could be more successful if I had a few more inroads with the big merchants. Dealing with some of them is almost like dealing with royalty."

"Neither of us will have to deal with them much longer. We're both getting near retirement age."

Ragnar snorted. "You plan on retiring?"

"Indeed," Electrum said. "I have a small pine tree picked out next to the ship launchers. Nice view of the water. String my hammock over the low hanging branch and sleep with the sound of the water lapping against the bank."

"If you're not careful your hammock will turn into a cocoon. Life is activity. You need to move as long as you can."

Electrum was hurt. "Well, I was thinking about a small boat," he said a little sulkily.

"You're drifting, my friend. You need to change rivers, not get a boat."

The river flowed around a pile of boulders. As they made the turn, a break in the rocks appeared with a long flat rock balanced over the top like a roof. The ship slid silently underneath. Sheer rock walls on either side reached up to the solid top. The mist surrounding the ship felt dry and the air was warm. They emerged into the Gold Realm.

A hot breeze brushed Electrum's face and he squinted in the bright sunlight. The gold harbor was set at the foot of a mountain. Shops, homes, and public buildings were honeycombed into the rock.

Like tangled ribbons, the narrow streets climbed upward at crazy angles as they followed the natural formations.

Greetings were called to him as they docked. Well-muscled pollywogs hauled cargo off the ship while an old wizened sprite stood at the end of a gangplank making marks on a scroll.

"Hoy there, Mothwings," he called and waved the parchment at him. "What brings you here? Tired of all that soft living at the palace?"

Electrum waved. "Just thought I'd come spend some time with you barge flies."

The dock rang with the old sprite's raucous laugher.

Electrum said farewell to Ragnar. As he made his way up the street, calls and clamor from vendors replaced noise from the harbor. Electrum squeezed past kiosks and carts. Warehouses gave way to bustling businesses and small shops as he climbed higher into the city.

Merchants stood in doorways. With a practiced eye, they sized up prospects and didn't give him a second glance. Higher up on the hill, the glowstones over the door to PoJoe's shop glistened in the sun.

Electrum turned down a side street and stopped in front of a sign that read Mirta's Woven Dreams.

MIRTA'S WOVEN DREAMS

Inside the textile shop the air was cooler. Light streamed through windows high on the stone walls. Rows of racks held shuttles filled with yarn in warm browns, vibrant greens, and splashes of blue. Spools wound with bright spun thread sat on shelves in orderly lines, their colors merging in a hypnotic wave of dark and light.

Electrum found his steps matching the rhythmic thumping coming from two looms that clattered away independently. Their shuttles crawled under and over the strings and the bars snapped tight against the threads, but no one was running them.

One held an unassuming design of red and brown stripes. The other was a simple pattern of white daisies on a green background.

He wound his way around tables where bolts of dark cloth and piles of shimmering fabric lay jumbled together. A faint herbal fragrance hung in the air.

Near the back, a vertical loom was setup with a partially completed tapestry. His steps slowed as he gazed at the scene. The Silver Gate filled most of the picture. He recognized Ragnar's ship in the distance leaving the dock while other ships were still being loaded by busy sprites. Always ahead of the crowd he thought.

With each pass of the shuttle, details were added to the gate. Trees were beginning to line the riverbanks, and morning sunlight cast streaks of light on the water.

His view was partially blocked by a stout sprite sitting on a high stool. Sparkles from her fingers were drawn into the pattern as she smoothed the fabric. She passed the shuttle through the warp and tamped down the beater bar. The noise covered his footsteps, but somehow she knew that a visitor had arrived.

Without turning she called, "Keep your wings folded. I'll be there in a minute."

She gave the beater bar a final thump and stretched. "What is it you're looking for?" she said as she turned. Surprise spread across her face and the looms fell silent.

"Electrum! How nice of you to drop in."

"You haven't lost your touch, Mirta," Electrum said. "You're the only one I know who can keep three looms running at once, but I seem to have broken your concentration."

She waved her hand. "Simple repetitive patterns. Won't be hard to start them up again. What brings you to my humble abode?"

"I did come with a purpose, but I was hoping for a bite to eat first."

"There's herb stew on the fire." She pushed wispy yellow hair away from her face leaving a steak of gold that merged the freckles in a line across her cheek.

She set off at a brisk pace and Electrum hurried to keep up. They passed cauldrons where yarn was soaking in dye. Pungent earthy smells rose from the mixtures. He wrinkled his nose and held his breath trying not to sneeze.

She stopped in front of a door tapestry. It also showed a merchant ship but this one was emerging from the mist-clouded gate into the Gold Realm. Glowstone chips dotted the outside of the gate. They had long ago burned out, but reflected light from the window glinted off their surfaces. The river led straight to the terraced mountain city. Tiny bells of various sizes were woven into the ship's railing.

"This looks like one of the tapestries you made right after your pollywog days. I haven't seen it in years."

"You have a good memory. It was one of my first commissioned works. I made it right after my wings changed."

"It's a perfect match to the one you're working on now." When he touched it the miniature bells tinkled in soft musical harmony. He caught the faint smell of the river and felt cool mist on his face, but his skin was dry.

"The silver tapestry is an idealistic memory from my days as a pollywog," she said. "Now I only go there in my thoughts."

Electrum left his boots on the mat and followed her into the living quarters. His toes sank into a plush rug that made him think of soft grass in a meadow.

"Do you plan on keeping them as a set?"

"No, the Silver Gate is for Simon."

"Oh yes, Simon. That's why I'm here. He asked me to deliver a letter and inquire about your progress on a tapestry." He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she studied it. One silver freckle showed for a second on the tip of her ear before the hair escaped and covered it. She placed the envelope into a pot sitting on the mantle.

"You might want to open that," Electrum suggested. "Simon said it was payment."

She smiled. "Thank you. It'll be safe there."

He tried another approach. "He did ask that I inquire about your progress."

"You've seen it," she said. "I'm waiting on some custom prepared materials. It can't be rushed. I should be finished by the end of summer."

"That long? I guess you were waiting for Simon's letter. Did I mention he included special instructions in the envelope?"

"That's good," she said, "since I can't finish it without them."

"There's more to it than just the picture then?"

"Simon has interests that extend beyond his library," she said. "Some things need to remain hidden. I'm sure you understand the importance of discretion."

Defeated, he sat down at the polished stone table. "Things are rapidly getting complicated," he said.

"We all have roles to play."

"That's what I keep telling Silverthorn. I'm glad mine is almost over."

A pot simmered over coals in the fireplace. She ladled stew into a bowl and sat down with him.

"How is the textile business?"

She laughed. "'Bout the same as usual. I'm holding my own. It's the transportation costs that hold me back. That and the growing phobia of interworld trade."

"Well, I for one think trade has made both worlds better. Reed pods from the Silver Realm make wonderful packing, but I do not want to go back to mats woven from the reeds. The textiles of your world are far superior, and your work is clearly the best."

Her smile was smug. "That's what I'm told. But as a sprite I can't sail back and forth. Since the pookahs aren't limited to one twilight, they can own and sail their own ships. Makes competition a bit one sided."

"If Sterling has his way, there won't be any trade. It would be a dark day in the silver world if they stopped importing glowstones. Sterling might not mind. Not sure he reads all that much. But it would be hard on Simon to have to read those old scrolls by oil light."

"Better to read by oil light than not have the proper wood for a loom. The scrub wood that grows here doesn't hold up."

Silence fell over the room as he finished eating.

"How's the silver prince doing?" she asked.

He pushed the bowl away. "Impetuous. Irresponsible. Passionate. Not a bit of sense between him and that girl of yours."

She laughed. "You're sounding old."

"I'm feeling old."

"Maybe a change of pace from the palace is what you need."

"Just what I've been thinking. I have a small retirement tree picked out with a nice view of the Ship Growers Pond. I can string my hammock over a low hanging branch and sleep with the sound of the water lapping against the bank." It was starting to sound a little dull even to himself.

Laugh lines crinkled around her eyes. "Just roll up in a hammock and sleep life away like an old pea pod?"

"I'm sure I'll find other amusements," he said with disgust. "I considered getting a small boat."

"Get a big one and travel between. There's money to be made in shipping."

"I can't cloak a ship." He felt the familiar helplessness and disappointment that he lacked that ability.

"There's ways to disguise a ship other than with pookah thoughts. Be inventive. Instead of cloaking the ship, how about physically making it look like a log all the time? It would limit how much and what kind of cargo you could carry, but I bet you could make a tidy profit with the right connections."

MRS. HAYWORTH

April

By spring Brownie was no longer shy. Shadows crept across the yard as Trevor set down the bowl. He eased himself into the plastic chair and waited. The faint sound of squeaking clarinets and bass drums mixed with shouts and blowing whistles as the high school band practiced up the street.

A cool breeze carried a hint of the winter past. It ruffled Brownie's fur as he buried his nose in the dish. Trevor ran a finger down the soft fur on his back and was rewarded with a soft, rumbling purr.

A clicking noise made him look up and sent a chill unrelated to the weather down his back. Mrs. Hayworth marched up the sidewalk. Her hand gripped a red leash. Trevor's eyes followed it down to the rhinestone harness circling the fat Pekinese. The little dog's smug face was framed by a blue bandana.

Brownie crawled into the bush. Trevor stood up, and his shoe bumped against the bowl. He pushed it under the chair with his foot and winced as it scraped over the cement. Mrs. Hayworth stopped at the bottom of the steps.

"I've come to speak to your mother." The breeze stirred her straw hat. It shifted like a hot air balloon tugging at its ropes. She slapped it firmly back down on her head, but several wispy gray hairs had escaped. Now they poked out the back and lay on her neck in defiant strings.

"Well, don't just stand there staring. Is your mother home?"

She and the dog had the same scowl. Her dress hung limply from her shoulders like a sack. A wide black belt squeezed her middle. The dog sat down next to her clunky shoes and growled.

She leaned forward. "I know what you've been up to."

Trevor took a step backward and collided with the chair. It rattled, and he caught the arm as it tipped. It had been over six months since he had cut through her yard. Why had she waited so long?

The door opened and his mother stepped out. "Hello Mrs. Hayworth. How nice of you to visit."

"Not all that nice, Lil. I'm here to talk about a petition I'm getting together for the City Council."

"Oh? What this time?"

"It's the ongoing problem of juveniles. I can't tell you how many kids have been rampaging through my garden. It - must - stop." Her eyes narrowed and she held out a paper. "I'm proposing a curfew from dusk to dawn."

"I see," his mom said as she took the paper. "Everyone home by twilight."

"Exactly. Just sign and mail it in."

Trevor sat down, and his foot landed in the bowl. With a clatter, the cat food scattered across the porch.

Mrs. Hayworth stared at the food. "Your activities haven't gone unnoticed. The neighborhood is aware you are raising cats on your porch."

She was talking about the cats, Trevor realized, not his trip through her garden. He felt relief until he looked up at his mother. Red was creeping up her neck and flushing her cheeks. Her lips pressed together in a fine line. He knew that look.

"There is catnip in my garden," Mrs. Hayworth said. "I grow it for Max. I hope your cats will be wise enough not to invade. Max and Rexie are very territorial. They won't tolerate feral intruders." Rex barred his teeth showing sharp white fangs.

"They aren't feral," his mother said. "They are quite domestic, and we have been looking for homes for them."

"Excellent," Mrs. Hayworth said with a cold smile. "Just sign the petition and send it in, won't you? I'm sure it will help make the neighborhood a nicer place for all." She patted Rex on the head and her voice softened to a cooing. "Come on Rexie. We have others to visit."

She turned and headed up the street. Rex gave one last growl before prancing after her, his manicured nails clicking on the sidewalk.

His mother mumbled, "Crazy as ever." She smiled at Trevor. "Don't worry about her. I've known her since I was your age and she's always on a mission of one sort or another. Let's get some fresh food for Brownie and Bob."

They went into the kitchen and she handed him a can of cat food. "They've had a bad fright," she said. "Something special to calm their nerves."

He grabbed a bowl and headed for the porch. At the door he glanced back. His mother was reading the petition.

"Any sensible parent knows their kids should be home by twilight," she said softly. She dropped the paper into the wastebasket.

CUTTING CLASSES

May

Electrum poked his ears through the soft holes in his hat. The morning star was low in the sky. In another hour the sun would rise just like it had for the last two months.

Ever since he delivered Simon's letter, he couldn't get Mirta's tapestries out of his mind. What custom materials could she possibly need to complete the silver harbor picture? If only he could have found a way to see inside the fat envelope.

The tapestry wouldn't even be finished for several more months. Better to concentrate on Silverthorn and what he was up to. He was developing an uncharacteristic obsession for antiquated writings.

On several mornings he had found the prince reading obsolete books and pouring through Simon's dusty old scrolls. He hadn't mentioned the cat again, and on the surface he seemed reconciled to separation from Amber.

But Electrum wasn't as old as all that. He might be ready for retirement, but he knew that Silverthorn was working on something. He just needed to find out what the sprite had in mind before he got himself in trouble and dragged others along.

Gilder was acting strange too. He always seemed to be carrying around that strange little box. It might be time to see what was in it.

As Electrum headed down the corridor, Mirta's suggestion of a ship of his own tugged at his mind. Disguising a ship would be difficult, and it was far too dangerous not to. On the other hand, Ragnar had mentioned a need for someone with connections. Maybe his years in the palace could be put to use.

Someone calling his name interrupted his thoughts. When he glanced back, Captain Sterling was striding toward him. The platform trembled under his heavy footsteps and his deep voice rumbled.

"If you please, a moment of your time Grand Pookah," he called.

Electrum took his hat off and shook it over the side. If only it was that easy to shake off the captain. It would be a relief to retire and be out of the palace away from Sterling's narrow mindedness.

He replaced his hat and turned to meet the captain. "A moment is all I have, sir," he said.

"I met with the King earlier regarding the prince's military training," Sterling said. "He's missed several of the morning drills of late. Perhaps you could shed some light on his activities."

Probably in the library, Electrum thought. He tried to look surprised. "I was not aware he was not meeting his obligations. Perhaps his book lessons have been taking up too much of his time."

"Book learning is commendable, though the virtues of commerce are vastly overstated in your textbooks. A good understanding of palace politics would be more useful. The King mentioned his concern over the tales circulating about the prince and that merchant girl. You know how those kind of things can get out of hand."

Electrum bristled, but managed to hold his tongue. "I'll speak to the prince about being on time for your lessons, but I should set him a good example and not be late myself. It was good talking with you." He hurried away as fast as decorum would allow.

He knew Silverthorn was spending mornings in the library, but he hadn't realized he was skipping Sterling's classes. It was a dangerous game.

He stopped at the prince's room. The hammock was rumpled and the glowstone was still uncovered. Niches in the wall were filled with items from his childhood. The spot where Gilder had placed the box was empty.

Electrum ran his finger over the bark. Gold sparkles clung to his finger. The box had either come from the Gold Realm or recently been there. It was time to discover what the prince found so fascinating in the old documents.

Electrum passed sleepy servants. They grumbled at his haste and gave him questioning looks as he hurried past. Voices came from the library. He stepped into the dim interior.

Simon stood at the back. Reaching up with long arms, he stacked a pile of scrolls on a branch. His long hair was neatly tied back with a silver string and hung down his muscular back. There was no sign of age on his smooth face this morning.

He turned and raised his eyebrows. "It's a little early, but all times are good for reading. Can I help you locate a fascinating exposition from a long forgotten scroll?"

"Silverthorn has been infected with your passion for ancient lore. I assumed he would be here feeding his addiction. Have you seen him?"

Simon glanced to the other side of the platform. "Perhaps my son can help. Gilder? Our Grand Pookah has misplaced the Prince. Might you be able to assist him?"

Gilder's feet got tangled in the table leg as he jumped to his feet. "He left the palace when it was still dark this morning."

Electrum winced. He already knew the answer, but asked anyway. "Where did he go?"

Gilder glanced at his father, then down at his feet. "To the Tween World clearing," he said. His voice was just above a whisper, "To meet Amber."

When Electrum reached the top branches, the first signs of dawn were tinting the sky. Morning vapors clung to the branches. He didn't relish the idea of flying in the cool, damp air without the benefit of a good breakfast. "The boy's head must be filled with dandelion fluff," he muttered.

With resignation he opened his wings and stepped off the platform. Wind tugged at his hat, and he flatted his ears against the brim. Behind him streamed a thin trail of shimmering dust. Fortunately most of the kingdom was still in bed. Still, it wouldn't do spread concern about the prince. With difficulty he turned his thoughts to flying instead of on Silverthorn.

Unlike the palace, the docks were bustling with activity. Clumps of fog and dim shadows gathered in the low-lying areas. Pookahs paced on ship decks and bellowed orders at the pollywogs.

The ships looked inviting. As a tad he had dreamed of being a ship captain. A pleasant current to carry the ship in the morning and cool breezes for sailing at night. That would be the life. His only worry would have been losing some cargo or maybe a ship. But instead of cloaking ability, he had the gift of thought dust. That fated him to become the Grand Pookah, and now he'd lost the prince.

There was no time for drifting leisurely out of the harbor on a ship. The sun was creeping above the horizon.

RENDEZVOUS

Heavily laden ships pulled away from the docks. Others had already maneuvered into the current. As he flew under the arch, he aimed for the center. The river beneath him vanished in a gray fog. His skin tingled. Heavy moist air left his face clammy and obscured the walls. He stretched his arms out in front of him feeling foolish, but wanting some buffer in case he flew into something. Escaping dust fell from his hat and dissolved in the mist.

When he emerged on the other side his wings were heavy with moisture and his shoulders ached. He ducked through the ivy vines that cascaded over the opening, but his reflexes were slow. The edge of a dripping leaf slipped between his outstretched arms and stung as it slapped against his face. The glossy leaves were half as big as he was. The gate opening was still in shadow and hazy with morning mist.

He left the river and flew over the holly bushes. Sunlight filled an open space with rocky ground and tuffs of grass. He dipped under the branches of large oaks. Light found its way through the fluttering leaves making dancing patterns on the earth. The moving shadows disoriented him, and the ground came up faster than he expected. His landing became a stumble and ended in a hop when he stubbed his toe on a root.

Limping and shaking the moisture out of his wings he muttered, "Not my best morning."

The air was warmer outside the trees, but he knew it meant disaster for Silverthorn. They would have to find a way through the open area without the sunlight touching his wings.

Favoring his foot, he hurried forward. He heard Silverthorn's voice and slowed his steps.

"Gilder can still pass through. He's willing to come on the merchant ship to pick it up."

Electrum strained to hear. Were they talking about the box?

"It's a crazy idea," a girl's voice said. "You have to leave now. Every second you wait can damage your wings."

"I'm not leaving until you agree to meet here on Eclipse Night. My plan is foolproof."

She laughed. "And then what? No kingdom. No palace. I can't let you do that. If you don't leave now, you won't have any wings and a fine king you'll make then!"

"A fine point indeed," Electrum said as he stepped around a mushroom. "You should listen to Amber. She seems to have more sense than you do."

Silverthorn spun around. "How long have you been listening in on us?" His eyes narrowed and his jaw was set.

"We can argue at home. The clearing is already flooded with sunlight. It will take both of us to get you across without harm. It would take too long to go around. We have to leave now while the gate is still in shadow." He turned to Amber. She looked scared.

"How will we get him across?" Her voice trembled.

"Fold up your wings Silverthorn. Amber and I will shield you with our wings, and we'll cross as quickly as possible."

"What about Amber? She needs to get through her gate before twilight is ended."

"She's from the Gold Realm. Morning light won't harm her and there's plenty of time left to get her back safely."

Silverthorn's face paled to a sickly green. The freckles that had been brown just last month were now silver, a reminder of the danger. Electrum could think of no way to spare the young sprite's dignity.

With much stumbling and arguing, they crossed the clearing. Electrum was glad Sterling wasn't there to see their comic procession. All three were in bad spirits by the time they reached the shelter of the holly bushes. The opposite bank and most of the water was now in sunlight. Only a narrow strip through the gate on their side of the river was still dark.

"Hurry," Electrum said to Silverthorn. "There's just enough shadow left for you to squeeze through.

He gave the sprite a push. "Go!"

Silverthorn floated up in the air and glanced back. Amber's eyes were large with alarm. She pushed her hands away from her body. "Go, now."

He turned and flew away.

MIRTA'S COUNSEL

Weariness crept over Electrum as he watched Silverthorn fly under the ivy-draped arch. Scolding words drained out of his tired mind. The lectures would have to wait.

"Let's get you home young lady," was all he could manage.

Passing through the Gold Gate was simple. Mist hung over the water, but the walls were clearly visible. In the Tree Palace the air stayed cool until almost noon, but here the streets were already reflecting the sun's heat. Amber's face was flushed, but whether from emotions or the warm walk Electrum couldn't tell.

When they entered the textile shop, Mirta looked down from her perch. She glided to the floor with her wings outstretched. Light from the glowstone reflected off the gold veins. Near the tip of her left wing a thin flash of silver winked as she folded them against her back.

Behind her the vertical loom still held the Silver Gate tapestry. The tops of the trees had been filled in, but not much more.

Brought my girl back I see." She hugged Amber then held her at arm's length. She searched the girl's face and said softly, "Did he make it back in time?"

Amber nodded. Mirta dropped her arms and said, "Go freshen up. There's deliveries to be made."

Amber hurried upstairs.

"It doesn't look like you've made much progress on the tapestry," Electrum said.

She shrugged. "These things take time. You're looking a little bedraggled."

"Rough morning. I drenched my wings flying through the gate mist. I stubbed my toe landing and bruised my feet getting Silverthorn through the clearing."

"The mist was heavy?"

"Only in the Silver Gate. Thicker than I've ever seen it."

She looked worried and shook her head. "Well, soon it will all be over. They'll both have turned and that will be the end of it. They're going to take it very hard."

Electrum took a deep breath. "Maybe."

Mirta crossed her arms "You don't think they'll take it hard?"

"I'm not sure that will be the end of it. Silverthorn has some crazy plan. I'm sure of it."

"What do you think they are up to?"

Electrum took a deep breath. Then blurted out, "Silverthorn is hoping to turn gold."

"Gold. Huh! I would have expected something more from him than wishful thinking. From what I've heard he's already turning silver. Haven't you taught him anything about his ancestry? He comes from a long lineage of kings. There's not a gold freckle in the group."

"I think he's looking for a way to alter his destiny. You remember hearing stories about a changeling plant when you were just a sprite tad?"

"You're not serious."

Electrum shrugged. "He's been poking through the ancient writings, and he's never been the studious type. What else could he be looking for?"

She was silent for a minute as she studied him. "But that plant is just a tad fable," she said slowly. "Besides, the King would never allow the prince to deny his heritage."

"Of course not. Though rumors about Amber have spread throughout the palace."

Her eyes flashed. "The royal mayflies are at it again, are they? They are fortunate I am confined to this realm and can't expose their mischief. Just because Amber is an orphan doesn't mean..."

"Easy Mirta. I know what the girl means to you. The tales aren't anything against Amber's character. She is highly thought of in the palace. Everyone is sympathetic, but they all know the situation is hopeless." He took her arm. "Let's sit down."

Mirta huffed and allowed herself to be led to the back of the shop.

"I remember vague fables as a tad about sprites changing colors," she said. "Is there any truth to them?"

"I believe there is." He told her about needing a cat and about losing Dusty.

"That's very sad about the cat," she said. "It would have been a daring adventure. The talk of the docks for a year and a day. You might have outdone the tales of Ragnar and the giant girl."

He grimaced. "It wasn't like Ragnar had a plan. He was just lucky."

As they passed through the door the tiny bells tinkled softly.

"Without the cat, what does Silverthorn have in mind?" she asked.

"He hasn't shared his thoughts on it, but I'm sure he's not going to give up easily. I also suspect he's getting secret shipments from here."

"From whom? Amber? What kind of shipments?"

"I don't know - yet. This morning's caper has convinced me I need to do more research of my own."

"You're wise not to underestimate him. What do you think he will do if he succeeds? We don't have any openings for princes."

He laughed. "The merchants were all quite complimentary of his efforts as a pollywog. He fancies himself a welcome addition to the merchant guild."

She smiled. "He was popular and he might be able to talk someone into taking him on as an apprentice. However, you won't exactly be welcome at the palace if he goes forward with this plan, whether it succeeds or not. Have you considered what to do with yourself if things go bad?"

Before he could answer, the tapestry moved and Amber poked her head through. "Heading out for deliveries," she said. "I'll be back in a few hours."

"But you haven't eaten," Mirta said.

"I had silver truffles," Amber said with a smile.

Mirta sputtered, "Silver truffles. Where did you get silver truffles?"

"Silverthorn sent them with Gilder. I left some for you on your chair." She waved and the tapestry fell back into place with a soft jingle. Her footsteps faded and the shop door shut with a definite thump.

Electrum and Mirta sat in stunned silence. Then Electrum said, "That explains what he's sending here. The question is what is she sending there?"

"Certainly not an empty box." She put her hands on the table and leaned forward. "It looks like they are moving ahead with some plan."

He cleared his throat. "It seems everyone has a clear plan except me."

"Surely you have some ideas in mind about your future? What about your retirement tree and your hammock over the water?"

"I haven't given up my tree. In fact it's mostly paid for. But a cozy apartment in the trade district might be a nice addition."

"That sounds like a big transition from palace pomp."

"I have a few connections. Some possible inroads with a certain ship captain might lead to a business arrangement."

"Oh?" She leaned forward. "What kind of product line did you have in mind?"

"My needs are small. I'm not greedy. Maybe you and I could work out a mutually beneficial partnership."

MAX ATTACK

Late June

Trevor hung up the phone. Brandon and Archie were loading the Moon Colony video game, and said they would wait until he got there. He knew from experience they wouldn't wait long. Archie wasn't known for his patience.

"I'm going to Brandon's, Mom," he called up the stairs.

"Okay. Be back before the streetlights come on."

Trevor dashed out the front door and it banged behind him. The afternoon sun beat on his back as he headed up the street.

It was already June and they were still trying to beat the video game. The star book from his dad had given him a new idea. He couldn't wait to see their faces when he spouted his new knowledge.

A faint mew invaded his thoughts. It came again, louder.

He looked back and a shadow passed under a parked car. A few seconds later Brownie's head poked out with an accusing meow. Trevor took a few more steps, but the cat paced him.

With a sigh, he turned back. Brownie followed from the street, meowing all the way as if chiding him for leaving the yard.

When they passed Mrs. Hayworth's house, Brownie jumped onto the stone wall and strutted along the top. His tail waved like a flag on the back of a ship and brushed a low hanging tree branch.

"Brownie!" Trevor called in a low voice. "Get down from there. Max won't like having you on his wall."

The garden looked empty. No sound. No movement. Trevor reached for Brownie when a long hiss rose up from the other side of the wall. The hair rose on Trevor's neck. The sound grew into a yowl, and a yellow ball of indignation burst onto the wall. Trevor jerked away. His elbow struck the stone sending a numbing tingle down to his little finger.

Brownie leaped. His front claws dug into the branch. He swung like a stretched out rubber band with his hind feet scrabbling in the air.

Max moved much faster than Trevor would have thought possible for such a fat cat. Brownie's feet finally contacted the wood, and he surged up the tree with Max right behind him. He was forced to the end of a thin limb. It bent under his weight and began to sway as Max edged closer.

Brownie dug in his claws and looked down with wild eyes. Trevor jumped up on the wall. He reached for Brownie. Max swiped at him. The claws sliced across his knuckles.

Yanking his hand back, Trevor yelled. The motion threw him off balance. He grabbed the branch. For a moment he hung with one foot on the wall and the other in open air. The branch gave way with a loud crack, and Brownie was flying toward him.

With a shower of leaves, Trevor fell with Brownie clinging to his shoulder. As his feet hit the sidewalk, his ankle twisted under him and he gasped with pain.

A door banged. Mrs. Hayworth began yelling about kids and damage to her prize tree. Gingerly he tried putting weight on his foot. It hurt, but not too badly. Bending over he hobbled along staying out of sight behind the wall. At the corner he slunk from one tree to another until the garden was out of sight.

When he got home, he put Brownie down on the porch. The cat stretched and began taking a bath. While he was occupied, Trevor quietly limped down the steps and headed up the street. Each time he looked back, the small figure was still on the porch.

His ankle was sore but not swollen when he arrived at Brandon's house.

"What took you so long?" Brandon said. "Archie already crashed the cruiser half a dozen times."

Trevor told about his run in with Max while Brandon's mom made him wash the blood off his hand. She insisted on putting antibiotic cream on the long scratches.

Trevor hopped up the stairs explaining his new idea for the game. "We use the coordinates from constellations."

"This is a game, not a science project," Archie said.

"No, this could really work," Brandon said. He grabbed his scientific calculator and started punching numbers. "We have the angle. We can estimate the distance. The speed can be calculated using the cosign of the hypotenuse..."

Archie interrupted, "You really think a game writer is going to be a math genius?"

"The best ones," Brandon said.

"Ah, I don't know anyone who uses trig," Archie said.

Brandon looked up and stared at him.

"Okay, you and Mr. Polinsky. But he teaches math so he doesn't count."

"Sure he counts," Trevor said. "He's a math teacher." There were peals of laughter.

"Funny," Archie said. "Just type in the name of the constellation and see how intelligent the program is."

To Trevor's delight, they managed to land the cruiser with the new coordinates and started building the lunar city built before the power generator began to fail.

"You'll have to handle the evacuation without me," Trevor said. "If I leave now I can just make it home in time."

Brandon glanced out the window. "You still have ten minutes."

"You're forgetting my ankle."

"Wimp," Archie said with a laugh. "Watch out for that killer cat."

His ankle was better, but he needed the extra time to take the long way home. He wasn't going anywhere near Caesar or Mrs. Hayworth's garden. When he came around the corner, his dad was waiting on the porch. The streetlights were still dark. What could be the problem?

Next to his dad sat a large black tube on a round base. It looked like a canon and was as tall as he was.

His dad grinned and rotated the tube. It swung smoothly, and Trevor could see it was open on the top end.

"What is that?" he asked.

"What we've been waiting for! The telescope. A Dobsonian telescope to be precise." He lifted the tube. "Grab the base and follow me."

Trevor struggled with the base. No one had said anything about being a weight lifter for stargazing. He managed to pick it up and stagger several feet at a time as he made his way to the side yard.

He couldn't wait to tell Brandon. This was better than an old dusty telescope in the school observatory. His dad balanced the tube on his shoulder and chattered away.

"The design was adapted from a sturdy utility tube for pouring concrete. There's an eight-inch mirror in the bottom. The base has a silicon mechanism for easy alignment." He shook one hand in the air and pointed into the sky. "It's balanced so you can turn it with one finger."

Trevor gasped as he made another few steps forward. It was taking more than one finger to carry the base.

His dad turned in a circle. "This will do. Set that down over here."

Trevor grunted and covered the last few feet. He set it down on the grass with a thump.

"Careful with that." His dad slipped the tube into the base. "Spotter is all lined up." He swung the tube around like a magician about to do a trick. "It's not dark enough for stars, so let's start with the moon at low magnification."

He checked the spotter, then looked into the small eyepiece jutting out from the tube. With exaggerated care he pushed the tube with one finger. "There we are...just a little bit more...okay, have a look."

Trevor leaned over and peered into the eyepiece. Blinding light filled the view. He blinked several times and the moon craters popped into focus.

"What do you see?"

"Craters. Lots of them. It's so bright." The light winked out followed by a thin trail of sparkles. He straightened up. "Wow, I think a shooting star just wiped out the moon for a second."

"Let me see." His dad nudged the tube to keep the moon in view. "You must have just bumped it out of focus. Have another look."

The moon filled the view. At the bottom of the sphere was a bright crater with white lines radiating out from it.

"The dark patches on the top were once thought to be water," his dad said. "The one on the right is the Sea of Tranquility where the astronauts landed."

He started humming, then singing softly.

"By the light

of the silvery moon

Where craters formed

With a flash, and a silent ka-boom!

Your silvery beams

Will light my dreams

Hope we're going back soon

To the silvery moon."

Trevor laughed nervously. "Don't sing in front of the guys, okay Dad?"

He gave him a lopsided grin. "They're not ready for that level of sophistication?"

"They may never be ready."

"Probably right. Let's look at some of the big stars in the constellations. Then we can look up the next lunar eclipse when we go in."

They spent an hour with the star book and the red flashlight locating stars until his mother called them in for dinner.

UNDER THE ROOTS

August 19

Months had passed without another Tween World rendezvous between Silverthorn and Amber. At least Electrum wasn't aware of any. Everything was calm. The quiet made him uneasy. He hadn't figured out Silverthorn's plan yet. With the eclipse just a couple weeks away, he was sure it wouldn't be a secret much longer.

He hovered outside Silverthorn's room and knocked. It was early morning. The prince should be in class with Sterling, if he wasn't holed up in the library.

When there was no answer, he pulled back a corner of the door tapestry. No one. He stepped inside. The remains of breakfast littered the table and a rumbled blanket hung off the hammock. As usual the prince had not taken time to straighten his room. He wondered briefly if Amber was aware of the prince's casual attitude toward housekeeping.

There was no sign of Gilder's box or the gold dust. The shelf had been wiped clean. Familiar trinkets filled the shelves bringing back memories of exploring together when Silverthorn was a tad.

He could just make out the faded image on a tarnished metal disk that filled one of the niches. They had found it on Silverthorn's first trip to the Tween World. On another shelf, a blue feather was lodged between a river rock and a shell. Annoyed with himself, he turned to leave. This wasn't the way to do things.

Out of habit, he straightened the bedding. When he tugged on the blanket the edge caught, tangled in a gold tassel on a scroll. Herbal Remedies and Lore was printed on the outside in gold letters.

He tried to think back to his studies on Gold Realm literature when he was a tad. It was such a long time ago, and there wasn't much to remember. His teachers had not thought the gold libraries harbored any unique knowledge.

Obviously Silverthorn felt differently and was willing to reach beyond accepted teaching. There wasn't much time to discover what quackery he was desperate enough to try. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be just the prince that was affected. Both Amber and himself would be dragged along into the middle of whatever scheme he had in mind.

He shoved the scroll back under the bed and mussed up the blanket. When he scanned the corridor, a slender, awkward figure was approaching. Gilder. The sprite's attention was focused on the small package he carried. Without looking up, he turned into the library.

Electrum stepped from the doorway. Time to get some answers. Gilder must know something. He burst into the library ready to confront the young sprite. The door tapestry fell in place behind him, and Electrum looked about puzzled. It was empty.

He slid back the lamp cover letting light into the room. A thin trail of glittering gold dust led under the table. Curious, he lifted the carpet edge. A twisted rope handle was attached to a trap door.

His fingers closed around the rope, but he hesitated. Then with sudden determination he gave it a strong tug. It flew open. He lost his balance, and sat down hard. An opening gaped before him. From its depths came moist air with a damp, earthy smell. Several steps led down to a platform.

He covered the lamp and darkness settled over the room with only a faint light shining up from the shaft. He backed down the steps. Standing on the platform, he lowered the door into place over his head. In all his years at the palace he had never heard even a rumor about this chamber.

He now stood at the top of a vertical tube. Below him, wooden steps were suspended from ropes attached to the walls. Dim glowstones gave out enough light for him to make out other platforms below, but he couldn't see the bottom.

The first step had a springy feel. He clutched the railings and slowly made his way to the next platform.

He was heavier than Gilder and hoped the ropes would hold him. If they gave way, the tube was too narrow to spread his wings. The steps swayed and bounced beneath him. It was like the time he had tried to walk across his hammock as a tad.

As he passed the platforms, his eyes became adjusted to the dimness. Finally, he reached the bottom and stood on hard dirt. Tangled tree roots twisted over his head and burrowed into the dirt walls. He was outside the tree. Glowstones on the ground outlined a tunnel that extended several feet before turning. There was no other exit.

At first the ground was level, but then it began to slant upward. He had to duck to avoid low hanging roots. His hat brushed the ceiling releasing a shower of fine dirt. He shook it off leaving sparkles on the path.

The incline was steep enough to make him pant. Even though the air on his face was cool, he was beginning to sweat. Maybe his friends were right about his plush life in the palace.

After walking what felt like about half an hour, the tunnel opened into a small room. He faced a closed door with a plank across it.

In the middle of the door at eye level was a small window with a grate covering. A plant hung on the outside with spreading vines that draped down and curled around and through the bars. Its leaves shivered with a passing breeze that carried the smell of water and fish.

The wooden plank across the door barred entry from the outside. One end was attached to the door and the other was cradled in a carved niche on the wall. The end attached to the door was weighted and rotated on a pin. It was easy to lift the plank out of the wall holder. When he let go, the weight made it fall slowly back into place.

Pressing his face against the grate he peered out. Between the leaves he saw a cluttered storage yard. Several sprites were hauling and stacking empty barrels and crates.

Not wanting to be seen, he stepped away from the door. Next to a dark patch on the wall, a small pile of dirt littered the floor as if it had fallen from the ceiling. The wall felt gritty and hard under his fingers.

He pressed against the dark patch. With a surprised cry he plunged through the wall. His eyes squeezed shut. He threw up his hands. Stumbling into emptiness he barely caught his balance. When he opened his eyes, he was in another tunnel. From this side the opening was obvious, and he could see clearly into the room with the barred door.

He started down the new tunnel. In the glowstone's dim light, it was hard to see the low hanging tree roots. The floor was uneven and sloped downward. Rounding a bend, he glanced down. Too late, he saw a large crate. His foot slipped on loose pebbles, and he fell sprawling over the lid.

He ran his hand over its surface. Remnants of the Gold Realm Council Seal still clung to the latch. This must be one of Simon's crates. He brushed himself off and heaved it open.

Soft cloths and reed pods covered the bottom. Expensive packing material he thought. Someone had taken great care to make sure whatever was in the crate was not damaged during shipment. Did Sterling know about the contents in the crates? Did he know about the trap door in the library?

He had spent enough time here already. Now he had to find the quickest way back and make sure the trap door was hidden.

He lowered the lid and brushed himself off. It was just a short walk back to the small room and once again he was looking through the window. The sprites had left. He could fly back to the library and not have to risk opening the trap door without knowing who was on the other side.

He peered through the leaves again. No one in sight. Sliding up the bar, he pushed the door open and stepped through. It swung closed behind him and the plank fell into place with a soft thump.

Multiple cracks in the wall on the outside blended with the door's outline making it invisible. The plant hid the window completely.

It felt good to stretch his wings after the tunnel's confinement. From the air he could see the Silver Gate below. He flew toward the Palace Tree's top platform.

DRIFTWOOD

August 21

Trevor looked beyond the narrow pumpkin field that separated his house from the cluster of dense oak trees stretching into the distance.

"I think I have about an hour, Brownie," Trevor said. "Let's check out the woods."

The sun had dropped just below the trees, outlining the top branches against the sky. Occasional twinkles of light winked in and out.

"Watch your step," Trevor said.

Spots of orange dotted the field where the pumpkins were starting to ripen. He threaded his way through the rows trying not to step on the lush leaves or trip over twisting vines. Brownie followed, leaping over the pumpkins and stopping to sniff beetles and swat at dragonflies.

Shadows at the edge of the woods reached out to meet them. As he passed under the trees, the light faded and the soothing murmur of running water blended with a cricket's song. Sparkles flickered between the trees and he shivered in the cool air.

"Mew," Brownie said.

"I see them. Let's check it out."

They circled around to a fallen tree that had toppled onto a pile of boulders. The stream gurgled under the rocks and disappeared.

Brownie jumped up and trotted across the fallen tree, then turned and mewed loudly. Trevor stepped onto mossy bark. The log was springy under his weight. His shoes stirred up a damp rotting smell. Holding out his arms for balance, he wobbled across.

Trevor followed what might have been a path at one time. It led to a narrow footbridge that sat about a foot above the water. A broken tree branch with sprouting twigs and leaves floated toward them. Something glittered on one end.

"Maybe that's what we saw sparkling," Trevor said. He squatted down on the bridge as the branch passed underneath. When it emerged, he leaned over the water and caught one of the twigs. With a yank he hauled it onto the bridge.

Sparkles flew everywhere. Brownie hissed and Trevor yelped. A cluster of splashes rained across the water followed by a louder sploosh.

Trevor caught a glimpse of something swimming away. He dropped the branch on the bridge and scooted back. It fell with a crash, and rolled against his foot.

Brownie crept up in stalking mode with tail fluffed. He stretched out his neck and sniffed the branch.

"Some kind of bug I guess," Trevor said. "Like florescent butterflies or moths. Maybe Dad knows what they are. Let's take it home to show him."

The branch was heavier than he expected. When he pulled on it, he saw the flash of light again on the end.

"What's this?" he said. When he parted the leaves, he saw an enamel broach. It looked like a salmon colored lizard. The metal was tarnished and encrusted with rust. He tugged on it, but it was embedded deep into the wood. Orange powder came off on his fingers. He wiped his hand on his pants leaving a brown smudge.

Grasping a twig that hung off one end, he dragged it behind him. It bumped over the bridge and left a trail in the dirt and leaves. When he got home it was muddy, and he dropped it in the yard under the maple tree.

"Home before the streetlights." He scratched Brownie's ears. "Stay out of trouble. I'll see you in the morning."

MONARCH MOMENT

Electrum shook his hat out the window. The evening breeze swirled the thought dust into a spiral that blew away over the trees and faded quickly in the darkening sky.

It was Monarch Moment time, his weekly update meeting with the King. He slipped on his crumpled robe. The wrinkles were now a permanent part of the fabric. It billowed around him as he hurried across the bridge to the next platform.

At the spiral staircase he stopped to catch his breath. The coiling steps with the smooth railing were an open invitation. As a tad he had slid down it many times until that one morning he had collided with the queen's cranky maid. That put an end to his stair surfing, but the impulse had never faded.

A cool breeze brushed his face. The stairs were empty. He glanced around and saw no one on the platform.

With stiff movements, he sat down on the railing and adjusted the robe. Hearing approaching footsteps he pushed off with his foot and partially extended a wing for balance. As he spiraled down, he began to pick up speed.

The breeze fanned his hot skin and blew away his troubled thoughts. A big grin spread across his face. Laughter began bubbling up inside. As he whipped around a curve, the robe caught on a branch that should have been trimmed back. A ripping noise replaced his laugher with dismay.

The railing came to an abrupt end, and he sailed off into thin air. Stifling a cry of alarm he extended his wings. He managed to land on his feet, but made a horrific clatter as he hopped across the floor flailing his arms and bumping into the walls.

His fingers closed around a rope hanging outside the king's meeting room. Silence fell and he steadied himself. The soft warm tone of a wind chime filled the quiet hall, and he realized he had pulled on a bell cord. With a gasp of disgust, he cast it away as if it had burnt his fingers. It swung silently in a wide arc, passing across the heavy curtains.

A quick inspection revealed a jagged tear on the robe. If he kept his arm down, maybe it wouldn't show. The curtains parted.

Simon stepped out, but ducked back as the cord swung past his nose. Without blinking he caught and steadied it. Then raising his eyebrows he bent his head to look down at the pookah.

"Good evening, Electrum. I'm surprised to see you."

Electrum snorted. "I have an appointment with the King, do I not?"

"Well, yes. But I thought that perhaps, under the circumstances, you might have asked to be excused."

"It was a noisy entrance, but I don't think any harm was done." The robe was beyond repair, but no sense mentioning that.

"I was referring to the Salamander."

Electrum's stomach tightened. He felt a chill and forgot about the robe. "What happened to the Salamander?"

Simon looked distressed and his voice softened. "It was captured by a boy in the Tween World this evening. The ship and cargo are missing."

"The pollywogs?"

"Most came here safely. There were several on board that are known for jumping ship and playing in the Tween World. They were seen heading toward the Gold Realm. I've no doubt they made it."

"I see. And Ragnar?"

"He's here now in a meeting with Sterling."

Electrum let out his breath. "Ragnar will be chafing to get a ship to find the pollywogs. Once he knows they are safe, he will have to deal with losing his beloved ship and the huge financial loss."

"A loss to everyone. I fear that Mirta's tapestry may have been on that ship. Few understand what that loss will mean."

"The Silver Harbor tapestry? What's so important about it?"

"Simon!" the King bellowed.

A wry smile crossed the sprite's face. "Perhaps we can consider this matter later. However, if you're keeping the appointment, you best go in now."

Electrum stifled an annoyed laugh and straightened his hat. Sparkles slipped onto his shoulder. He could feel Simon's stare.

"Are you sure you're quite ready?" Simon asked. "Did you need time to...prepare? We just had the room cleaned."

"Yes, yes. Let's not keep the King waiting any longer. Get on with it."

"As you wish."

Simon pivoted on his heel, and marched through the doorway. His crisp uniform seemed molded to his body and flowed with his precise movements.

Electrum limped along holding his left arm close to his body. Occasional sparkles fell from his hat in a crooked line behind him on the polished floor.

They walked past latticed walls woven from living branches. At intervals the branches curved and twisted together to form windows. A faint breeze filtered through the tangle, making the reception room cooler than the hall.

At the sound of their footsteps, the King turned away from a large window at the end of the room. He shook his wings and they flashed with a gleam from the room's glowstone.

"There you are," he said.

The King settled into a chair fashioned out of leaves and covered with a shimmering gray glaze. It hung from vines and bobbed gently as he adjusted his silver robes.

He frowned. "You look terrible, Electrum. Did you sleep in that robe?"

Electrum took a breath to respond, but the King waved his hand. "Never mind. I hear that Silverthorn's been missing classes. Give your report."

"He has mastered his lessons and is competent in his duties," Electrum said.

"Competent? I expect him to excel in his duties. More rigorous discipline might have served him better than book study and languishing on a merchant ship. Our captain of the guard feels it was a mistake to allow Silverthorn to be a pollywog. Tonight's terrible news of Ragnar's ship gives some credence to his views."

"Silverthorn is more capable than some of Sterling's minions would suggest." The startled look on the King's face made Electrum realize he had to choose his words more carefully.

The King's eyes narrowed, his gaze unnerving. "The experiment seems to have turned out all right, but we should never have placed the prince at such risk."

"He has earned a fine reputation with the people. That will make him a strong ruler. Like you," Electrum added.

"And what of those nasty rumors about a flirtation with a merchant girl in the Gold Realm?"

With a slight stutter Electrum said, "Typical adolescent behavior. He is fully aware of his duties and the limits between the Silver and Gold Realms."

"Let's hope he gained some valuable experience."

"My plan was that he gain understanding of how the merchant system works. Something he couldn't learn from inside the palace."

"Commerce is one thing. Flirtation is another. See that nothing untoward comes of it. You wouldn't want your years of hard work to be spoiled by a silly fancy."

The King smiled, but Electrum didn't feel any warmth in it. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck. He twitched his ears causing a stream of thought dust to cascade from his hat and form a tiny mound on the floor beside him. Shifting his weight, he moved his foot over the dust and stirred the pile. A few sparkles floated in the air, and Simon stepped out of their path.

The silence lengthened. The faint breeze was gone and the air was stifling. The robe weighed heavy on his shoulders. He was sure the King suspected something.

He heard a soft swishing sound and turned his head slightly. Simon was sweeping his thought dust into a leaf. He frowned. The thoughts would be jumbled. Simon stiffly marched out of the room. The King was still waiting for a reply.

"I am putting forth every effort to ensure the success of Silverthorn's future, and my own," Electrum managed to say.

"I'm glad you understand they are tightly connected." The King leaned back in his chair. "I expect everything to go smoothly and without incident during the eclipse."

Electrum winced. The incident was going to be far beyond anything the King could imagine. More than anyone could imagine. He searched his mind frantically for a response.

"Your pardon, Sire," Simon said.

Electrum jumped. He hadn't heard the tall sprite come back in the room. Simon handed the King a parchment. "An update on Ragnar's ship from pookah scouts. There are marks in the dirt where it was dragged off, but the trail was lost in the grass. Untimely rain made further exploration impossible."

The King's eyes scanned the writing. "One of the Tween World's revolting storms. It will wash away what little trail was left."

Simon's face was grim. "The ship will dissolve in five days if it is left outside in the light," he said.

"There's no help for it. With no trail, it would be too perilous even for pookahs. I won't risk lives. No one will be sent on a salvage mission." He crumpled the paper. Without looking up he said, "Do something about that robe Electrum. It's in disgraceful condition."

Electrum hurried out. There was no trace of sparkles on the floor. Simon was meticulous.

He reached his room, stripped off the robe, and flung it on the hammock. He was hanging his hat carefully on the branch when Silverthorn burst into the room.

"Ragnar's ship has been taken." The prince's voice cracked with tension.

Electrum sat down heavily on the hammock crushing new wrinkles into the robe. "Yes, I heard. Is there any news?"

Silverthorn shook his head. "They think everyone got away safely, but the ship and all the cargo is gone. A human boy plucked it out of the water when it emerged from under the giant footbridge. Then he dragged it out of the woods."

Electrum's shoulders drooped. "Ragnar's had the Salamander his whole career. That ship means more to him than anything. He's never lost a cargo."

"He cloaked all the pollywogs as well as the ship, but he couldn't cloak the masthead since it came from the Tween World. We can account for all but three of the pollywogs that were headed to the Gold Realm. Word spread fast. Sterling never missed a beat. He's already spreading fear about the recklessness of shipping."

Electrum stretched and ran his fingers through his hair scattering sparkles. "The storm will just add to his arguments, and the King is not inclined to send anyone."

"We have some time," Silverthorn said. "The ship won't dissolve immediately."

"No, but once the storm ends, there won't be much time to locate it and salvage anything."

"We don't have to locate it. I know where the ship is," Silverthorn said.

"What do you mean? The report said the trail was lost in the grass."

"I was there when it happened. I followed the boy."

Electrum felt numb. "What were you doing there?"

"Never mind that. The ship is outside and will be exposed to sunlight and moonlight. We have about five days before the ship and everything on it dissolves in the Tween World light."

"I should talk to Ragnar."

"He's with Sterling. You can see him tomorrow. Then the following night..." Silverthorn's eyes sparkled and he lowered his voice. "We could check out the ship. If Ragnar had some special item on board, we might be able to salvage it for him." He rubbed his hands together and silver sparkles hung in the air. "What do you say to a little adventure?"

Electrum sat up. Was Mirta's tapestry on board? Should he try to salvage it for Simon? What was its significance?

"There's no need to alert Sterling," Silverthorn continued. "This is more of a stealthy job, wouldn't you say? Just you and me?"

Electrum nodded. "I believe you're right."

"We should let things settle down a bit. No need to get Sterling all riled up."

"That's very sensible of you," Electrum said.

Silverthorn shrugged. "Must be all those lectures of yours. Tomorrow you can visit Ragnar. Then we'll meet on the tower platform the following evening right before dark." Silverthorn swaggered out of the room, whistling.

MISSING THREADS

After Silverthorn left, Electrum hung up the robe. It was looking more like a rag for dockhands than a royal garment. Even the morning mist wouldn't do much to restore its shape.

Too tired to care, he slipped into his nightshirt and leaned over the wastebasket. After shaking the thought dust out of his hair, he pulled on a snug nightcap and popped his ears through the holes.

The fuzzy blanket wrapped warmly around his cold feet. He reached out to the shelf beside his hammock and pushed the cover over the glowstone. The room darkened with warm sleepy shadows. Contented, he lay back.

There was a soft knock and the door tapestry opened briefly outlining a tall slim figure. Electrum sat up. The tapestry fell back in place and the figure faded into the shadows.

"Now what," he muttered as he uncovered the lamp. "Simon," he said in surprise. "Is there more news?" The dim light accented lines on the sprite's face making him look old and tired.

"We hadn't finished our interrupted conversation."

"Well, yes," Electrum said. The cold air on his bare feet made him shiver. "I didn't know you meant this evening."

"I'm sorry to disturb your repose, but we are facing a potential crisis. If the Salamander was carrying Mirta's tapestry, its disappearance could lead to some serious political consequences."

"What's so special about this tapestry?"

Simon's voice was barely above a whisper. "It holds a secret key needed by the gatekeepers. Its loss is a setback, but if it falls into the wrong hands it could mean the end of trade as we know it."

Electrum pulled the blanket around his shoulders. He was wide-awake now. "If it's a secret, why are you telling me?"

"You're a pookah. I need someone to visit Mirta and find out if the tapestry was on the Salamander."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just check the cargo list?"

Simon shook his head. "We couldn't take the chance of listing it outright. It was to be shipped as a common rug. Several were on the shipping list, but there is no way of knowing if one of them was the Silver Harbor without looking at the tags. Now the rugs and the tags are missing, and only Mirta can tell us if the Silver Harbor was one of them. I need you to ask her."

"I was planning to visit Ragnar tomorrow. He will need a friend."

"I will look after Ragnar and explain your absence."

Electrum nodded. "If you feel it is that important, I will leave in the morning to see Mirta. But if you don't mind me asking, how are you connected with the gatekeepers?"

Simon placed a finger over his lips and stepped toward the door. "They do not like their secrets discussed. There are those who would like to close the gates forever. The tapestry will help keep them open."

He slipped through the door, his soft boots making only a faint whisper. Electrum covered the glowstone and stared into the night. The starlit sky brought back memories.

As a tad, he often fell asleep listening to his father's stories about an elite group called gatekeepers. These mysterious sprites took on mythical proportions, using their secret magic to keep the gates open. The tales were full of their daring adventures as they held diligent watch so that nothing dangerous could pass through from the Tween World.

Every tad was fascinated with the stories of the gatekeepers. They dreamed of meeting or even becoming one. While growing up, Electrum had often hung around the gates hoping to discover something that would lead him to the keepers. Could it be possible that Simon was a gatekeeper?

This would have been an exhilarating adventure for a young pookah, but Electrum felt the upcoming eclipse made life exciting enough. He burrowed under the blanket and closed his eyes.

Morning mist was already gathering. With only a few hours left before sunrise he fell into a fitful sleep.

FLIGHT TO THE WOODS

August 22/23

Electrum inhaled the Tween World night air as he flew behind Silverthorn. It had been two days since they received the news about Ragnar's ship. Electrum was short on sleep. His trip to the Gold Realm had not helped. The three bedraggled pollywogs had made it safely home and were the talk of the docks.

He had been pestered with questions and interruptions as he made his way to Mirta's shop. His visit with her had raised more questions than supplied answers.

The Silver Harbor tapestry had been marked with a special tag and shipped on the Salamander. Various colored glowstone chips had been woven into the cloth, but Mirta was vague about why. It wouldn't be easy to duplicate it.

Most exciting was her admission that the gatekeepers had commissioned the tapestry. He still didn't know if Simon was one of them or just their messenger. If he and Silverthorn could find the Salamander, maybe it would reveal more answers.

For now, just keeping up with Silverthorn on this salvage adventure took all his strength. They left the Passage River behind and flew over the trees toward the clearing.

Silverthorn paused on the footbridge so Electrum could catch his breath. The pookah stretched his stiff muscles. The flowing water was dark. Shadows blurred the banks and made the bridge feel like an island.

"You said Ragnar left the ship cloaked," Electrum said. "That was two days ago. The light in this world is already weakening the cloak. Once that is gone, it will dissolve."

"That means we have to get whatever you want off it tonight," Silverthorn said.

"You do know where he took it?"

"I know the general direction."

"This is a big world." Electrum was dismayed and weariness swept over him.

"I know. Big people. Big houses..."

"That's not what I meant."

"Come on." Silverthorn flew out of the trees and led the way over the pumpkin patch. The pookah followed trailing thought dust.

They passed several branches lying on the ground, but none of them were birch. Silverthorn slowed and pointed at an old house. Electrum's stomach tightened. It was Trevor's house.

Brownie was in the yard stalking lightening bugs. The grass was mottled with shadows. A birch branch lay under the maple tree.

"There," Silverthorn said pointing. "That's it."

To the outside world it looked like a broken branch, but as soon as they landed on it the image shifted and they were standing on the deck of Ragnar's ship.

"I'll keep watch," Silverthorn said. "You check storage."

Electrum hurried past barrels trying to read labels in the fading light. He stopped and glanced around. Ragnar often had glowstones in his shipments. There. A barrel with faint light coming through the cracks.

Using his dagger he opened it and grabbed a glowstone, then quickly reset the lid. Wanting to keep his hands free, he lodged the stone in the top of his hat. Its light now sparkled with dust that had gathered on the brim, but it gave him enough light to find the crate marked textiles.

He pried it open. Inside was a pile of rolled bundles. He pawed through them until he found several having Mirta's trademark. One was wrapped in a brown cloth and addressed to Simon. He stuffed the glowstone in the end of the covering leaving traces of sparkling dust on the cloth.

Puffing, he trotted back. "Got it," he said

"The kitten is almost full grown," Silverthorn said.

Electrum paused and looked at Brownie. "It would never have worked," he said softly. "They are too hard to communicate with. There just wasn't enough time."

He shifted the bundle and rested the end on the railing. It was better this way. It would have been harder to have built up hope and then failed. He was startled when the front door banged open. Trevor came out, and Brownie dashed back to the porch to meet him.

Trevor picked up the cat and stroked his fur as he spoke quietly. Brownie listened to the soft voice, his quiet purr fading in and out on the breeze.

The pookah shifted positions. At their first opportunity, they needed to leave. This was taking longer than he had anticipated. There was a snapping noise and he spun around. The deck shifted and he grabbed the bundle as it started to slide off the side. Where was Silverthorn?

Brownie jumped down and was stalking fireflies again. Trevor stared at the ship. Electrum inched forward and the deck tilted. The movement caught the boy's attention. Electrum froze, but Trevor was distracted when sparkles filled the air.

Thin lines of silver light hung in the air a few feet away from him. A green face appeared. The boy sucked in his breath and blinked several times. Silverthorn's green and brown arms spread out to balance, and the transparent wings beat steadily.

Electrum was stunned. What was he doing? Sprites never showed themselves on purpose. This wasn't the plan. Brownie slipped across the grass and focused on the sprite. His tail twitched and he crouched ready to spring.

Electrum shouted, "Don't eat that one. He's poison."

Trevor backed up. With a yell, he tumbled backward onto the grass.

Electrum wrapped his arms around the bundle and leaped into the air. "Now you've done it," he called to Silverthorn. "To the trees!"

A weaving trail of sparkling dust drifted out behind the pookah as they flew toward the woods. The rug threw him off balance and he was having difficulty maintaining altitude.

Silverthorn glanced back. "Slow down. The cat is following us."

"Slow down! What do you mean slow down?" Brownie trotted through the grass after them, but a dark form rose from the grass and followed behind.

"So is the boy," Electrum said. "We have to get to the woods and hope they lose interest."

Silverthorn took the bundle and led the way. Relieved of the extra weight, the pookah was able to keep up. The grass blurred beneath them as their wings cut through the air propelling them forward. The sounds of thumping feet behind them grew louder.

"Wait Brownie," Trevor called. His voice sounded too close.

Electrum's heart beat in rhythm with his wings. As they entered the woods a branch snapped against the bundle and the glowstone tumbled out. Silverthorn hesitated. "Leave it," Electrum said. They entered the clearing. "Higher," he gasped. "Up the tree."

"Cats can climb trees," Silverthorn said.

"He won't know which one we're in if we get there in time. Fly!"

TINY TROUBLE

Electrum dodged through the lower branches of a tall oak. His landing loosened a shower of red and gold leaves. A few were left clinging to the branch giving them a scanty cover.

Mist circled the trees like ghostly fingers, but didn't extend into the clearing. Soft splashing noises came from the Passage River as two cloaked ships made their way around the rocks in the middle. Their full cargoes made them hang low in the water like broken, waterlogged branches covered with moss.

Silverthorn set the bundle down next to Electrum and leaned against it. "Now let's see what happens," he said softly.

Dry leaves rustled as someone approached the clearing.

"Brownie? Here kitty." It was the boy, but his voice sounded weak and was muffled by the thick air. "Brownie?" His voice faded and the sound of his footsteps tapered off. All was still.

Silverthorn fidgeted making the tapestry shift slightly. He leaned his tense body forward watching.

A flurry of leaves flew up in the air as Brownie bounced into the clearing. After glancing around, the cat started digging in the leaves. His paw snagged something that sparkled. He sniffed it and sneezed several times. Then in two bites it was gone. He stretched and started washing his face.

"It's not working," Silverthorn muttered.

"Of course it's working," Electrum whispered. "They haven't seen us yet." He glanced at the river. The ships were passing under the footbridge. Safe for the moment, but where was the boy? A faint sound drew his attention. Silverthorn gripped his arm and pointed down at a small light.

The pookah squinted. Was that a sprite? A pollywog from one of the ships? It was carrying a glowstone. Something was wrong about the way it walked, and where were its wings? The cat turned its head and also spotted it.

Electrum stood up. He couldn't let the cat eat the creature whatever it was. Without wings it was helpless. Then suddenly it spoke in a small, frightened voice.

"Brownie?"

It was the boy's voice. Electrum felt dizzy and sat down hard landing on the bundle. Silverthorn steadied him.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Silverthorn said.

"What do you mean supposed to happen?"

"Hello Trevor," Brownie said.

Silverthorn poked him and whispered excitedly, "The cat's talking."

"I can hear him. Be quiet, I'm thinking." His head was spinning.

"You can talk," Trevor said.

"I guess I can," the cat said.

"How did you get so big?"

"I was wondering how you got so small. The trees look the same size."

"Do they? I thought they had become enormous." Trevor's voice shook and he looked close to tears. "You're so big and powerful," he said.

Brownie purred softly. "Don't be afraid. You took care of me when the world was big and frightening. Now I will take care of you." He stared at the oak tree.

Electrum turned his head slowly. Silverthorn's wings glistened brightly in the last rays of the sun. They had been spotted. Something had to be done. In all his travels to the Tween World he'd never had an encounter with a human. But why was he so small? Best not to show weakness. He stood up.

Trying to keep his voice steady he said, "Ve-ry touching."

Trevor let out a small squeak and dropped the glowstone. He dashed over to the cat and pushed up against his front legs. Brownie wrapped his tail protectively around him.

Electrum spread his wings and floated down to a rock a few feet away. He stretched his mouth into a grin and wiggled his nose like a rabbit.

"What is he?" Trevor said in a whisper.

"You smell familiar," Brownie said as he leaned his head toward the pookah.

"Careful now – look out!" Electrum said as he threw his arms up and jumped off the rock. A shower of gold and silver dust slid off his hat's brim. Trying to get his composure back, he took his time brushing the sparkles off his sleeve with exaggerated care. With a wary eye on the cat, he straightened his hat. "It's not good manners to sniff before we're introduced."

"We didn't mean any harm. My name is Trevor and this is Brownie."

"Humph. He doesn't look like a brownie. He looks like a cat. My name is Alkaid Alioth Megrez, but you may call me Electrum." Using his full name always intimidated the young sprites. It was worth a try. He touched his hat releasing more sparkles.

Trevor dug his fingers into Brownie's fur.

"I know your smell," the cat said. "You're the one that warned me about eating the poison firefly."

A chuckling laugh came from a column of swirling green mist tinged with silver that floated above the cat's head. It solidified and a face looked out.

"I thank you for not eating me, but I'm hardly a firefly. My name is Silverthorn." He gave a slight bow. "You've obviously never met a pookah before.

"You're a pookah?" Trevor said.

"No, no. I'm a sprite. He," and he pointed to Electrum, "is a pookah."

"I'm so confused," Brownie said.

"Nevertheless," Silverthorn said, "you're all we have."

"What are you talking about?" Trevor said.

Silverthorn landed on the rock. "We're working on a rather tight schedule, and I was hoping you could help us out."

When Silverthorn suggested this trip, Electrum had been encouraged. Now he decided it was a bad idea. The prince had ulterior plans. What was he up to?

"We're looking for the Changeling Plant," Silverthorn said.

Electrum choked and sputtered. "We are?"

"You said the problem was not being able to communicate with the cat. Well...?"

"You knew this would happen? You planned it?"

"It's in the old scrolls.

"I don't recall reading anything in the archives about animals talking."

"It's from the gold archives. There was sprite dust on the fish I buried in the leaves for Brownie last night. Once he ate the dust, at twilight, within a short distance from the gate, it would touch his vocal cords and he would talk. I wasn't sure if we'd be close enough to the gate."

"I thought you put this trip off so you wouldn't upset Sterling. What you really wanted was time to come here last night and set this up." Electrum's fear had turned to agitation.

"But..." Silverthorn's voice quavered a bit, "but I didn't know about the boy."

"What about me?" Trevor said.

"There was nothing in the scrolls about him shrinking. I didn't expect him to follow us. It must have happened when he picked up the glowstone with your dust on it."

"Things aren't always clear cut, Ralphie. The scrolls aren't an exact recipe like making bread. What do your gold scrolls suggest now?"

"I don't know. You're the expert."

"I'm not an expert on humans!"

"Hey!" Trevor clenched his fists and jumped up and down. "What about me? What's happened to me?"

Electrum took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. With a soft puff, he blew the sparkles and they settled on Trevor. The boy sat down on the ground breathing hard, but he was quiet.

Silverthorn grunted. "Thought dust," he said. "Why don't we just come out and tell them what we need instead of influencing their thoughts?"

"Now Ralphie, we have to win their confidence first. Twilight is fading. Let's use wisely the time that is left."

SILVERTHORN'S SCHEME

"Is someone going to tell us what's going on?" Trevor said.

"Okay," Electrum said. "Let's compare notes."

"Let's start with how I got this size and how come Brownie can talk," Trevor said.

Electrum was frantically trying to remember any references to humans shrinking. Nothing was coming to mind, but he had to say something. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No, it's not obvious at all," Trevor said.

Electrum took a deep breath and tried again. He pointed to the glowstone that lay shimmering in the leaves. "A glowstone, pookah dust, and twilight. Twilight's fading. You're shrinking."

"I'm going to get even smaller?" Trevor shrieked.

Electrum squinted at him. "I don't think so. You haven't changed any in the last few minutes. You're our size. I think the shrinking has stopped." He hoped it had stopped.

"But how did this happen?"

Electrum thought it best not to admit he didn't know. He shrugged. "Magic of course."

"It's not permanent," Silverthorn said and looked at Electrum. "Is it?"

The pookah looked up at the moon and sparkles spilled down his back. "Nooo, I don't think so."

"You don't think so? What does that mean?" Trevor said.

The pookah avoided his eyes. "I think you'll be regular size again after the sun has been down for awhile."

"You don't know?" Trevor turned away in disgust. "I'm going to go home now."

"You can, but it's going to be a bit of a walk."

"I can carry you home," Brownie said. "Climb up and we'll be there in no time." The cat crouched down, and Trevor started to climb up his leg.
"There might be a little more to it than that," Electrum said. He was now remembering snatches of passages about twilight enchantments.

Trevor paused and looked over his shoulder. "Let's hear the rest. I'm already in trouble for being out after dark. My mother will ground me for so long that I'll never see sunlight or moonlight again. They're probably already wondering where I'm at."

"Yes, you'll need an alibi for tonight and probably every twilight for awhile."

"What do you mean?" The boy's eyes narrowed.

"It has all the markings of a silver twilight enchantment. That would mean that every evening when the sun starts to set, the enchantment will return and you'll be small again."

"Every night?" Trevor said, his voice rising in a squeak. "Forever?"

"There is a way to break the enchantment," said Silverthorn.

Electrum looked at him in surprise. "There is?"

"Along with the scrolls from the gold archives, I read some of your books. There was a passage on it in that old tattered tome that you keep in your storage bag."

"That explains why it was lying out where I stumbled over it. Just when did you become so interested in studies?"

"After I read about the changeling plant. I figured there must be some lore about it in the old writings."

"Could we get back to breaking the enchantment?" Trevor said.

Electrum gestured invitingly to Silverthorn. "Would you care to enlighten us?"

"Well, it wasn't specific about the enchantee. It referred to the cat, but it should work on the boy too. Wouldn't it?" He looked uncertain.

"Let's not rush into things," Electrum said. "I'm sure there's an easy solution, I just need to research it."

"I think if we all work together we can put everything right, and still accomplish our goal," Silverthorn said.

"Goal?" Trevor said with a frown. "What kind of goal?"

"Ralphie here has a little problem."

"Silverthorn."

"Right. Silverthorn has a problem. You see he's a silver sprite, or will be pretty soon. Not showing the best judgment, which seems to be a habit of his, he has fallen in love with a gold sprite named Amber."

"Is there something wrong with Amber?" Trevor said.

"Didn't I say she's a gold sprite?"

Trevor shrugged.

Electrum made a face and rolled his eyes. "Gold sprites can only come out in the morning twilight. Silver sprites can only come out in the evening twilight." He opened his hands and raised his eyebrows. "It's a logistics problem."

Trevor nodded "I see...," he said with a blank look.

"Ralphie was looking for a way to find the changeling plant, so he can turn into a gold sprite."

"In turn, we'll figure out how to get you to your normal size and Brownie can go back to being speechless," Silverthorn said.

"But I like talking," Brownie said.

Electrum waved his hand. "We'll work out the details later."

"Our problem," Silverthorn said, "is that we don't know exactly what the changeling plant looks like, just what it smells like."

"Actually," Electrum said, "we don't know firsthand what it smells like either." He looked pointedly at the prince. "That would be hard to accomplish from reading an old book."

"Well, we know cats are attracted to it." He pointed at Brownie. "That's where you come in."

"I don't understand," Brownie said.

"I think I'm beginning to," Electrum said. "Gilder's box. It's full of Amber's dust isn't it? You've been planning this for months."

Trevor interrupted, "Is the plant poisonous?"

"Poisonous?" Electrum said confused.

"I don't want anything to hurt Brownie."

Electrum took a deep breath. "No, it's not poisonous to the cat or to you. But Silverthorn and I cannot handle it in its raw state. It seems we'll need you to carry it back here."

"How will we know what plant it is?" Trevor asked.

"Brownie will know," Silverthorn said. "As soon as a cat gets close to this plant, they roll in it, they chew on it, they....well it's most undignified."

Brownie straightened up and looked indignant.

"Catnip," Trevor said. "You want catnip? You can buy that at the pet store. I have a bag at home. You remember when I gave you some last week, don't you Brownie?"

The cat rubbed his paw over his nose and pretended to wash his face.

Electrum shook his head creating a halo of sparkles. "No, it has to be fresh. It doesn't have enough strength in a dried state."

Trevor scrunched up his eyes and bit his lip. "Mrs. Hayworth has a garden. She mentioned she grows catnip for Max."

"Oh yes," Brownie said. "Bob has told me about the yellow monster cat rolling in the grass there."

Electrum sucked his breath in at the mention of a yellow cat, but Silverthorn leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. "Now we're talking. Where do we find this Mrs. Hayworth and her garden?"

"In the next block over from my house."

"Bob finds dog biscuits in her yard," Brownie said. "He claims they're not bad eating."

"Dog biscuits!" said Electrum. "That means there's a dog. That's not good."

"It's a Pekinese," Trevor said. "He's mean."

"One of those little yippers?" Electrum said. "He'll alert the whole neighborhood."

Trevor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Every time I've gone by the house he's been out in the yard with Mrs. Hayworth. When she isn't messing around in her garden, she's on the porch in her glider. I guess you'd have to go after dark."

"After dark is not really an option. I'm at my best at twilight," Silverthorn said. "Once the sun goes down I'm about as helpless as a human..." his voice trailed off.

Trevor looked like he was going to laugh.

Silverthorn cleared his throat. "Well now, what we need is a plan. You can scout out the garden and report back here. Remember that time is short, so you should check it out tomorrow and come back here at twilight. Don't forget to start early enough so you're not trapped in the field when you shrink."

Trevor started to protest.

"Up you go on Brownie," Electrum said as he gave him a boost up. He pushed against his back to steady him. "Hurry now before twilight ends. You don't want to crush Brownie when you get big. There's just enough time to get back before that happens."

The cat dashed out of the clearing with Trevor clinging to his back.

"That went well," Silverthorn said. "Maybe we should have asked him to return the ship."

"Don't push it. The boy already knows too much. Better to lose one ship than have him know about the whole shipping trade." He picked up the glowstone. "You carry the rug. I have things to think about."

As they flew back to the palace, Electrum's thoughts were jumbled. It looked like another sleepless night reading old scrolls by lamplight.

PARENTAL PERSUASION

Brownie took off, and Trevor dug his fingers into the thick fur as they rushed over the open field. When they reached the yard, Trevor rolled off and lay in the grass. He felt tingling all over, and when he sat up he was back to normal size.

As he entered the house, the door banged shut.

"Trevor!" his father said. "Where have you been? Do you know how late it is?"

His mother cried out and rushed over. She pulled him into a tight hug. "Do you know how worried we were?" her voice was muffled against his shoulder and her fingers dug into his back. Then her grip relaxed and she pulled back. "It's okay. He was just out looking at stars, weren't you dear?"

"What are you talking about?" his father said. He gripped Trevor's shoulder and turned him around. A smile spread over his face and his fingers relaxed their grip. "Stars, huh?" He patted him on the shoulder. "How many constellations were you able to pick out?"

Trevor stared. What was wrong with them? "Constellations?"

"Now dear," his mother said. "He hasn't eaten yet. Come into the kitchen, Trevor. I've been keeping your dinner hot for you. You have to keep your strength up to look at stars."

His father trailed behind them. "The rings of Saturn are fascinating. You'll be able to see them through our telescope. We'll also check out the moons of Jupiter. And did you know that Venus has phases just like the moon?"

Trevor didn't notice what he was eating. His father chatted on happily about astronomy while his mother fussed and kept urging him to eat more. He was glad when he was finally able to slip off to his room.

He closed his bedroom door and took off his jacket. Silver and gold sparkles drifted off the back and hung in the air before settling to the floor. He jumped back out of the way and stared at the sparkles. What was it the skinny sprite had called it? Thought dust, that was it. Something about influencing thoughts.

He felt a wave of relief. That explained his parents' reaction. Electrum must have put the dust on his jacket when he helped him get on Brownie's back.

The pookah was clever, but Trevor wasn't sure he trusted him. The whole idea of sneaking into Mrs. Hayworth's garden was scary. She was already suspicious of him and didn't like Brownie. He didn't want to give her any reason to complain.

Too tired to try to figure it out, he climbed into bed and pulled the covers up around his ears. The blankets made a snug cave, shutting out the night and the magic in the woods. He stretched out his toes until they touched the end of the bed. Still normal size he thought with satisfaction. He quickly fell asleep, but dreamed about yellow cats and small, vicious dogs.

WORKING FOR NOTHING

August 24

Electrum sat on the library floor with his back braced against the tapestry bundle. Silverthorn had helped him get it this far without being seen. Now he had to wait for dawn when it was Simon's habit to come to the library. He hoped the sprite would be punctual.

Night settled over the palace. Ordinary sounds that were unnoticed in daylight now seemed loud and unfamiliar. Branches creaked like footsteps. Leaves rustled like whispering voices.

A thin stream of chilly air seeped out from around the trap door making the hard floor cold. He wanted to slip off to his own room and into the warmth of his hammock. But he couldn't leave the tapestry unguarded, and it was too risky to carry it through the halls where he might meet Sterling.

Light from the glowstone lamp created a small oasis of light in the room and sent the shadows quivering into the corners. He tried not to think about the trap door. Images of unpleasant things that might be hiding in the tunnel crept into his thoughts. For a brief moment he considered opening the door to look, but quickly discarded the idea. He pushed one end of the tapestry over the door so that it couldn't open without alerting him.

Squirming around and pushing on the bundle he tried to find a comfortable position. The light was too bright for sleeping, but he didn't like the idea of covering it. Even on the hard floor his body was ready to sleep, but too many puzzles chased through his head.

For the next couple hours he searched through the old writings looking for answers. There was just nothing on humans. The only passage he was able to find was the one he had been dreading. The one his father had read to him many times. It had been in the corner of his mind for months.

"The first pookahs were a result of the Great Catastrophe. Later there were first generation pookahs from the union of sprites from different twilights. All pookahs are therefore honor bound to assist any young sprite who wishes to change twilights for true love."

It was short and clear. He would have to help Silverthorn. And now they both had an obligation to help Trevor. He felt a twinge of disloyalty to the King, but his loyalty to Silverthorn and the pookah clan was a higher responsibility. Plans for a plush retirement were quickly turning into thought dust on the wind.

Whatever happened on eclipse night, Electrum's part in the plan would leave him out in the cold. Silverthorn would be helpless to intervene. The prince did not comprehend his father's anger, nor was he fully aware of Sterling's influence.

A wry smile spread across the pookah's face. If Silverthorn did end up in the Gold Realm, maybe the King would offer him a small stipend to look after the prince. After the King's anger subsided of course.

The glowstone was fading. It was getting harder to see the writing on the old scroll. He nudged the tapestry around until it blocked the air from the trap door. With a grunt he shifted positions until he could lay his head on the rolled tapestry. Soon his snores blended with the other night noises.

From his dreams, Electrum heard someone calling him. He tried to push them away, but the call became more persistent. The room was filled with early morning gray shadows when he opened his eyes. Someone was bending over him.

"Who..." he cried out, and struggled to his feet.

"Hush, Electrum. It's just me," Simon said. "Let's try not to wake everyone."

"Sorry," Electrum said softly and pushed aside the scroll.

"Doing a little late night reading?" Simon's voice was also soft. He placed a fresh glowstone in the lamp and uncovered it part way. Soft light filled the room.

Electrum felt musty and stiff from sleeping on the floor. He ran his fingers through his hair scattering dream dust.

"I was hoping to see you yesterday and hear what you discovered from Mirta."

"I was waiting for you," Electrum said.

Simon looked surprised. "You are always welcome to come to my rooms."

Electrum shook his head. "I didn't want to have any encounters with Sterling. I was fortunate to get it here without detection."

"I'm fascinated already. What intriguing item did you bring?"

"Help me with this." He grasped one end of the bundle and nodded at the other end. Together they picked it up and placed it on the table. "From Mirta."

Simon's hands trembled as he opened the tag. It read Simon, Palace Tree, Mirta's Woven Dreams. "Then it wasn't on Ragnar's ship."

Electrum shrugged. "It was. But it was...recovered...by a very small task force."

"And who might that be?"

"As Mirta would say, some things need to remain hidden. I'm sure you understand the importance of discretion."

Electrum couldn't be sure, but he thought he detected a smile.

"Shall we have a look?" Simon asked.

"I was hoping you would offer."

They removed the cloth cover. The tapestry end rolled over the table edge and fell to the floor. Simon held the glowstone, and they bent over it. The pattern was simple red and brown stripes.

Electrum felt a stab of disappointment. "That's not the Silver Harbor. That's one of her automated patterns."

Simon ran his fingers over it. "There's no magic in this weaving. Perhaps your task force took a fancy to the more elaborate scene."

Electrum shook his head. "It hasn't been out of my possession since it was taken out of the crate on the Salamander."

Simon sucked in his breath. "You did the recovery? By yourself?"

"Almost."

Simon stared at him for a long moment. "We are in your debt." He checked the tag again. "Someone must have switched the tags in route."

Electrum felt a chill. "Sterling's pollywogs," he said.

"Excuse me?"

Electrum explained what Ragnar had told him about some of the pollywogs being loyal to Sterling.

"I was not aware his influence had reached so far," Simon said. "This is serious news. I fear who might hold the other tapestry now."

"It may still be on the ship, if it hasn't dissolved." Electrum felt a wave of weariness. "I guess I'll have to go back and check."

AMBER MORNING

The room was gray when Trevor became aware of his surroundings. Chilly air from the half-opened window touched his face. He stretched and pulled the blanket up around his chin.

The plastic blinds tapped rhythmically against the windowsill mixing with a soft scraping noise. He turned. Light between the slats hit his face. When his eyes adjusted, a sprite sat on his end table.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them quickly. She was still there.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said.

Pushing back the covers, he slid away and sat up.

"We haven't been formally introduced, but I've heard a lot about you." She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. "You are Trevor, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Who are you?"

"Amber. Surely they've mentioned me."

"Who?"

"The sprites in the woods? Little green people like me. Well, the pookah's not exactly like me, but never mind. I'm sure it will all come back to you once you wake up. How long does that usually take? I'm a little short on time."

"You must be Silverthorn's girlfriend."

"Right!" She clapped her hands. "Now we're getting somewhere."

"Why are you here?"

She drew one leg up and clasped her hands around her knee. "I'd like to get your take on their plan. You seem to be the one in the center of the action. What is it they've asked you to do?"

"They haven't told you?"

"Well, there have been some strategy discussions." She leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "They are in a different twilight than I am, you know. We can't always get together for planning committees. I just found out about you this morning." She gave him a little smile. "The big night's coming up soon. What's your part?"

"I'm supposed to get the catnip."

"Catnip?"

"I think Electrum called it a Changeling Plant."

"Ah, yes. The catnip. Is it guarded?"

"I have to get past Mrs. Hayworth, a huge yellow cat, and," he sighed, "a mean dog."

Her eyes got big. "Have they offered you anything to overcome these forces?"

"I'm supposed to meet them in the woods tonight and hear the rest of the plan."

"Typical." She paced to the end of the table and looked out the window. "Life in the palace. He hasn't given a thought to details like transportation, tools..." her voice trailed off and she leaned closer to the window. "Do you know there's a ship in your yard? I don't know how I missed that when I flew in."

He jumped out of bed and leaned on the windowsill. "Where?"

"Under the maple tree."

He shook his head. "I don't see any ship."

"It looks like a broken branch on the ground, but that's a ship or I'm not a merchant." Something glittered from the leaves and she squinted. "I think that's Ragnar's figurehead."

"Figurehead?"

"The salamander. Can't you see it glittering?"

"You mean the pin? It's stuck in there too deep to pull out. I guess I could try to get it off with pliers."

"Take it off?" She sounded horrified. "Ragnar's had that figurehead for years. Her voice turned suspicious. "How did it get in your yard?"

"I dropped it there. Brownie and I went to the woods and I pulled it out of the water."

Amber gasped and said in a hoarse whisper, "You! You're the one that carried off Ragnar's ship. Do you know what you've done?"

Trevor didn't know what to say. He shook his head.

"No of course you don't know. You didn't even know it was a ship."

"I just pulled a broken branch out of the river. I didn't mean any harm. It doesn't look like a ship."

"It's cloaked," she said, "but it won't stay that way. You can see the figurehead because it's from this world. It's been..." She squinted her eyes in thought. "Three days tonight. You'll need to take it back tonight or it will dissolve. Twilight would be best."

"That's going to be difficult."

"Why?"

"I'm you're size at twilight, remember?"

"Oh yes, that's right. Well, then you'll need to get it out of the light. It's only natural light that's the problem. The glowstones won't affect it."

"The what?"

She pointed to the lamp. "Glowstones."

"Light bulbs?"

"Whatever. Let's see. Where can you put it? How about under the bed? That should work. But you have to do it today. Understand?"

He nodded. Amber didn't know about his mother's zest for neatness. Getting it past her would be challenging.

She glanced back out the window. "I really have to get going. Sun's coming up." She flew over to the windowsill. Bending over, she folded her wings and slipped through.

Trevor looked closely. "Hey! You cut a hole in the screen," he said.

She shrugged. "Not me. That hole was already there. Perhaps you've had other visitors. Don't forget the ship." With a wave and a glimmer of gold, she flew away.

A CHANGE OF PLANS

Trevor slipped on shorts and a T-shirt. As he started down the stairs, the phone rang and his mom answered it from the living room.

Quietly he slipped out the kitchen door and hurried over to the log. It still looked like a broken tree limb. He nudged it with his foot and the leaves quivered giving him a glimpse of the broach. He tugged on it, but the pin was still stuck tight.

Amber said to get it out of the light. There were shady spots in the yard, but by afternoon they would be in the sun. He couldn't keep dragging it around the yard. Why couldn't he just take it back and dump it in the river? He wished he had asked her that.

The only solution was his room, but he'd have to get it past his mother. She'd never let him carry a dirty tree limb through the house. He opened the kitchen door and looked inside. His mom was still on the phone in the living room with her back to him, looking out the front window.

Easing the door open with his shoulder, he picked up the branch and squeezed through. The door slipped off his back and banged shut as he dashed for the stairs. He heard his mom hang up. He tripped and caught himself with the railing. The branch slapped against him and pain shot down his leg. He hobbled up the last two stairs and fell into his room.

"Trevor!"

"Yes, Mom?"

"There are leaves and dirt all over the stairs. What are you doing? Come down here right now and clean this up."

"Coming." He pushed the branch under the bed and dropped the blanket down to cover it.

"Now, Trevor!"

He wiped his hands on his shorts and bounded down the stairs. His mother was standing at the bottom with hands on her hips.

"There's blood on your leg. You haven't even had breakfast."

He looked down and saw a smudge of dirt and a trickle of red.

She ran water on a paper towel. "What have you been doing?" she asked as she dabbed at his leg.

"Ow!" he said. "Let me do that."

"With those dirty hands? I think not."

He winced as she put on the antibiotic and slapped on a bandaid. "There. I think you'll live." She handed him a broom and picked up her keys. "I'm going to run a couple errands. I won't be long. Get this cleaned up and have a bowl of cereal before I get back." She smiled and kissed his cheek.

As the car pulled out the driveway, Trevor knelt by his bed and lifted the blanket. It still looked like a branch. He brushed away a dust ball that hung from a leaf and a spider ran across his finger and disappeared under the branch. How many other creepers were now hiding under his bed?

An uneasy feeling occurred to him that the sprite was laughing at him. Could they really make a ship look like a log? And why would the sprites have ships anyway. They could fly. Why would they need ships?

He pulled the branch part way out. Extending one finger, he poked through the leaves. His finger passed through the peeling bark. Instead of rough wood, he felt small bumps. They seemed to be boxes and barrels and were tied with string. It didn't feel sticky like a spider web. He pulled on it and it snapped. There was soft thump and a sound like a marble rolling. It bumped up against his finger and he picked it up.

It was a wooden barrel. The fall had loosened the lid and light was coming through the crack. His fingers were too big and clumsy to get it open. He grabbed a plastic triceratops and used its horn to pop open the lid.

Light burst out like he had turned on a flashlight. Inside were small odd shaped beads. He shook some out in his hand, and they lay glowing on his palm. Most of them were white. A few were pale yellow, and ghostly green. One was a cold blue. They were like the stone he had picked up in the woods.

Quickly he dumped them back in the barrel and tapped down the lid. His hand tingled and he hoped they weren't radioactive. At least he wasn't shrinking. He hoped nothing worse would happen to him.

He put the barrel back. It was creepy to watch it disappear as it passed through the peeling bark. What other cargo was on the ship? If he really shrank tonight, he could explore it. He felt a twinge. He was supposed to meet Electrum and Silverthorn in the woods tonight. Could he really trust them? Maybe he should explore the ship first.

He pushed a toy fire engine up to the log and extended the ladder. It lodged firm on one of the twigs.

He heard his mom's car in the driveway and jumped up. The mess in the kitchen, he thought and dropped the bedspread down.

Backing down the steps he gave each one a halfhearted wipe with a paper towel. The car door slammed. He scooped up the pile of dirt and ran to the wastebasket. A quick rinse got most of the dirt off his hands.

There was a thump and his mom called, "Help with the door, Trevor. I have my hands full."

He wiped his hands on his shorts and pulled the door open.

"Here," she said and handed him a couple bags. "I got more than I planned." She looked at the floor and shook her head. "You call this clean? It looks like you just smeared the dirt around." She sighed. "There's Moose Tracks ice cream. How about we have some before we mop the floor?"

GOLDEN THOUGHTS

Electrum shoved the storage bag farther under the hammock so he wouldn't trip on it later. He had just set two mugs on his table next to a wooden bottle when a knock came on the doorframe. He pulled back the tapestry.

"Ragnar, my friend. Come in."

The pookah captain shuffled inside and dropped down onto the chair. He picked up the bottle. "What's this? Wood Lily Blend?"

Electrum grinned. "Were you expecting water? Pour us a bit."

While Ragnar filled the mugs, Electrum pulled the cover off a tray of cheese bits wrapped in mint leaves. "How's the ship hunting coming?"

"Been down to the Ship Growers Pond. Put in a bid on a fine looking bark that's due to launch in the spring. Till then I'll be running the Dragonfly. Needs a bit of work to plug up the leaks, but it'll hold and get me through."

"You are planning on continuing the trade then?"

Ragnar narrowed his eyes and studied Electrum. "And what else would a ship captain be doing? Don't tell me that you agree with Sterling?"

"What did Sterling say?"

"Suggested," he drew out the word, "that without the Salamander I should just hang up my sails. Ha! Seems to think he should be in charge of the gates."

Electrum felt a chill. "Did he say something about closing the gates?"

Ragnar snorted. "He's been wanting to do that for years. When twilight falls on small-minded sprites, their shadows grow long but they stand no taller. Life's luxuries are more important to folks than any outdated notions of isolation that Sterling is selling."

Electrum raised his mug and said, "Here's to luxuries." He drained the mug and refilled it.

Ragnar chuckled. "What decadent comforts are you craving that the palace doesn't offer?"

"Oh nothing elaborate or expensive. I was thinking a sunny apartment in the Gold Realm would be comfortable."

The captain set down his mug. "What about that nice pine you had picked out? Cool breezes. View of the ship launchings."

"I haven't given that up completely. I might like to try my hand at commerce though, before I retire into my cocoon."

"Ha, ha, ha," Ragnar burst out. "Commerce?" Electrum felt his face flush, but before he could say anything in defense, Ragnar continued. "You should have done that years ago."

Electrum stared at him in surprise. "Now you sound like Mirta."

"Wise lady. You should listen to her. What kind of commerce did you have in mind?"

"A little shipping perhaps," he said watching Ragnar closely to see what he thought of the idea.

"A boat of your own?" He ate another cheese wrap. "How would you cloak it?"

"I can't cloak it. But a natural disguise might be adequate enough to conceal a small, valuable cargo."

Ragnar chewed thoughtfully. "Might work. If you're not looking to make a large profit."

"Just enough for that cozy apartment."

"Never been done. But you shouldn't let that stop you. Let's see..." he leaned back and chewed on another of the cheese wraps. "Something in the trade district. Not too far from Mirta I would think. There are some nice little dwellings in there that might be just the thing. I have some contacts there – if you'd like me to inquire around."

"Something big enough for two," Electrum said. At the captain's surprised look he added, "a guest room. Oh and a front room for an office."

"Anything else?" Ragnar's eyes twinkled.

"Windows would be nice, but not if they're too expensive. My income isn't going to be very extensive."

"You won't be penniless even if the commerce doesn't work out. You'll have your pension."

"Just in case – I'd rather not count on that too heavily."

"Sterling doesn't have that kind of power. The prince would never let him cheat you out of your pension."

"You're right. The prince wouldn't."

Ragnar looked at him keenly, his eyes holding Electrum's. Then he drained his mug. "I'm off to pick up my leaky rental. Make a few patches and set sail tomorrow morning. I'll look into the apartment for you."

THE SALAMANDER

Trevor's sneakers made soft padding noises as he shuffled across the ship's polished deck. He had brought a flashlight and it shrank with him, but now it wouldn't work. Moonlight from the window had given him enough light to climb the fire engine ladder, but once on the ship he had been forced to use one of the glowing stones. At least he had thought to wear gloves.

It had taken him longer than he expected to find the barrel with the stones. There wasn't much time left before he returned to normal size.

Light spilled through his fingers as he gripped the glowing stone. The ship lay at an angle, and he ran his fingers along the ropes for balance.

Crates and barrels crowded the deck, all tied securely to metal rings embedded in the wood. One rope lay loose, its end frayed where it had been snapped in two.

All the crates were securely sealed. He hadn't brought anything with him to get them open. The light from the stone cast an eerie glow and made shadows move like ghosts hiding among the cargo. What if someone were still on board? Would they be friendly?

He stumbled and looked down. A lid lay in his path. He looked around and saw the open crate. Inching forward he held up the glowstone and peered over the side. Long tubular bundles lay within. Each was wrapped in cloth.

The ship began to shudder. He lost his balance and dropped the glowstone. He could see it wedged among the bundles. Leaning over the side, he stretched out his hand. It was just out of reach. He leaned a little farther in, and the ship started rocking. With a cry of alarm, he tumbled inside the crate landing on the bundles and blocking the light. The ship stopped rocking, but it was dark.

"Trevor?" his mother called. There was silence. Then his mother said softly, "More leaves and dirt..."

"Is he there?" his father called.

"He's not in his room."

"He'll be back before the streetlights come on."

The ship shivered slightly as his mother left the room.

Trevor knew he had to hurry. Twilight was almost over. He closed his eyes and fumbled for the stone and felt soft threads where the cloth wrapping had torn.

Tingling crept up his arm and he shivered. His face felt wet and he smelled damp earth. He felt a little dizzy, like the ship was moving and there were soft splashing noises. His fingers closed around the globe and he pulled it free. Light spilled over the bundles and his head cleared. All was silent. He touched his face. It was dry.

He climbed out of the crate. With difficulty he tugged on the bundle with the torn cover. There was a soft tapping noise. He stopped, but all was quiet.

Digging his fingers into the cloth he tensed his muscles. The noise came again, louder this time. He froze. It wasn't coming from the bundle. It almost sounded like fast footsteps, but there were too many feet unless it was several people. He heart raced as he remembered the spider. Would he be able to hear it running across the ship?

Jerking on the bundle, he felt a trickle of sweat run down his cheek. With a desperate jerk he was able to yank it out of the crate. Once free from the other bundles, it wasn't as heavy as he expected. Slinging it over his shoulder, he stumbled across the deck and tossed it over the side.

A faint click behind him sent a cold chill up his back. He spun around. Two points of light glowed from the top of a crate. Slowly he raised the light globe A yell of terror burst from his throat. Crouched on top of the crate was the spider. It waved its front two legs in the air and opened its jaws.

First dogs. Now spiders. Disgust and then anger replaced his fear. The light globe was heavy in his hand. He narrowed his eyes and drew back his arm. The spider charged and he threw the stone straight at the malignant eyes. It hit with a soft, sickening thud. The spider rolled across the deck, its legs twitching and curling. Trevor ran to the side of the ship. The ladder was gone. He could see it lying on the floor in the moonlight.

Stumbling back along the deck, he tripped over the frayed rope that had held the barrel. Snatching it up, he tossed it over the side. It swung down in the moonlight almost reaching the floor. Just like gym class, he thought as he grasped the rope and slid over the side.

Minutes later he was lying on the bed and back to normal size. In his hand was a small bundle about the size of a fat pen.

His mother opened the door and looked in. "I thought I heard noises. I didn't know you were back yet."

He sat up. "Back before the streetlights, Mom."

"Yes...so you are. Well, take off those dirty clothes before you lay on the bed."

"Yes, Mom."

After she left, he examined the bundle. Working his finger into the tear, he pulled on the fabric. It tore easily. Inside he found what looked like a carpet for a dollhouse, but it was lightweight. He unrolled it and spread it out under a lamp. He hoped the light wouldn't hurt it.

It looked like a miniature replica of the carpets his mother admired in the rug store at the mall. The ones with pictures woven into them. This one was more like a photograph.

It showed a busy harbor with sprites loading ships and flying with small packages. Some sat in the trees that lined the banks. Long branches stretched out casting dappled shade on the water. The river turned from the harbor and flowed into a mountain with a crystal lined opening filled with mist and light.

A ship had just left the harbor and was sailing toward him. He squinted at the front of the ship where there was a tiny sparkle. The salamander pin?

He looked under the bed. The flashlight lay on the floor, now back to normal size. He switched it on. Light flooded the darkness under the bed, but he didn't see the branch. He was now looking at the ship on the tapestry. It was no longer cloaked.

WAITING FOR TREVOR

August 25

Evening shadows crept into the woods and filled the corners. Electrum sat waiting on a large mushroom with his chin in his hands.

There was a flash of light as Silverthorn flew into the clearing and landed next to him. "The ship is not there."

"Perhaps he moved it." Electrum said.

"I looked last night, and I looked tonight. It's just not there."

"Then the cloaking has worn off and everything has dissolved." He would have to tell Simon the tapestry was gone. At least it hadn't fallen into the wrong hands.

"Did the boy show yet?" Silverthorn asked.

"It's early." As he feared, the human boy was turning out to be unpredictable.

"He didn't show last evening," Silverthorn said. "Maybe he's not coming."

"Relax," Electrum said. "Give him time."

"It's getting late. Something must have happened to him. Maybe something ate him on his way to the woods."

"That's a cheerful thought."

"Maybe he dissolved with the ship. It's maddening," Silverthorn said. "We're less than a week away from the eclipse and no closer to locating the changeling plant."

Electrum gritted his teeth. "You're counting on a plan that depends on the whims of a human and a cat that just learned to talk." Silverthorn was no more logical than the boy and cat. Maybe Trevor wasn't going to come back to the woods. He stood up and straightened his hat.

"I can't stand the waiting," Silverthorn said.

"You're jumpy. You need more sleep."

"I can sleep later."

"Don't you have military drills with Sterling tomorrow morning?"

"I don't need military training." He clenched his fists, but his voice trembled.

"We need to play the game, Ralphie. Sterling isn't stupid. We don't want him to be suspicious or watchful."

"I'll go to class," he said softly, "but I am going to be a merchant."

Before Electrum could argue, he heard voices and rustling in the leaves.

"Slow down, Brownie. It's dark under the trees, and I thought I heard talking."

"I can see perfectly well," Brownie said. "The fat one is on a mushroom and the little one is pacing up and down between the leaves."

Electrum jumped up scattering sparkles everywhere. "Fat indeed! I am the proper size for a pookah." What an impertinent cat.

Trevor slid off the cat's back and tumbled into the tall grass. When he got to his feet his jeans had green stains on the knees.

"Where have you been?" Silverthorn said. "Where were you last night?"

"Being just a few inches high is miserable," Trevor said.

"What's wrong with your size?" Silverthorn said.

"It's okay for you. You've got wings. I ran into a spider. Then I shrank half way across the field on the way here and couldn't see over the pumpkin vines. Did you figure out how to unenchant me?"

Electrum still didn't have any answers, but he didn't want to alarm the boy. "I have found some references to it," he said. "I don't think it's going to be difficult."

Silverthorn interrupted. "The eclipse will be here in five days and twilight is darkening. We have to prepare our plans. Have you scouted out the garden yet? Did you find the changeling plant?"

"Well, I didn't really make it into the garden, but Brownie did."

The cat's eyes took on a dreamy look. "Tender, juicy leaves. Pungent, but delicate flavor. The smaller leaves were especially fragrant."

Silverthorn raised his eyebrows. "I see the job has not been distasteful for you."

"Quite pleasant except for that selfish overstuffed monstrosity, Big Yellow. And his Pekinese partner is positively psychotic."

"So you just need to get past the two animals," Silverthorn said.

"And Mrs. Hayworth," Trevor said. "She doesn't miss much."

"We need a distraction," Electrum said.

"Something to occupy all three guardians while you and Brownie slip in and gather some leaves," Silverthorn said.

Trevor gasped and his eyes got wide.

Electrum smiled as sparkles dribbled off his hat into his hand. He rubbed them between his fingers. This was something he could handle. "Perhaps a trade. I'll give them a piece of my mind in exchange for a piece of the plant."

"You mean like you did with my parents?"

"Precisely. Let's start with the cat. Let's see...a little poetical justice." He snapped his fingers. "You and Brownie will appear fearsome and ferocious. He will be terrified of you."

A big grin spread over Trevor's face. "Can you do that?"

"Are you sure that will work?" Brownie said.

"Yes, certainly. Then the dog. They aren't very bright. An overpowering desire to find a bone that he buried might work. A rancid, sinewy delight."

Trevor made a face. "What about Mrs. Hayworth?"

"I think she just needs to get some sleep. All that gardening can be very tiring. Weary muscles, drooping eyelids, comfortable place to sleep."

"So how does it work? Will you just fly over and sprinkle dust on them?" Trevor asked.

Electrum couldn't chance being seen by the woman. It might put the gates at risk. "I'm a pookah, not the sandman," he replied. "We need someone of your stature, height actually, to administer the dust. You can do it before twilight when you're normal size."

Trevor looked alarmed. "I can't just knock on the door and throw dust in her face."

"We'll come up with something. There's still four days before the eclipse."

"You're going to find out how to unenchant me, aren't you?" The boy's voice quavered.

"Of course, I am. Maybe I'll even have news for you tomorrow night."

As Electrum flew after Silverthorn he realized he might need to ask for help on finding the answer for Trevor. Maybe Simon could help.

AN UNENCHANTING SOLUTION

August 26

Electrum yawned and slid the scroll back onto the branch. It was afternoon and he'd already been through several shelves of scrolls in the royal library. So far he'd found no reference to humans and enchantments. He heard a small cough and turned to see Simon.

"Glad to see someone moving the scrolls around. They get very dusty without use, and I don't seem to find the time for dusting."

"I'm sure you have more intriguing duties to which you must attend."

Simon looked tired. "I was hoping you might have news."

"No sign," Electrum said. "We looked the last two nights. The cloak would have faded by now so the ship and everything on it has certainly dissolved."

A faint smile flickered across Simon's lips. "I suppose that other than having the tapestry in our possession, it is the best news we can expect. We will hope it did not fall into the wrong hands."

Electrum remembered Simon's earlier warning about the tapestry having the key to keep the gates open. "Would someone be able to use it to close the gates?"

"The information is used to calculate the positioning of glowstones."

"Glowstones? Like the ordinary ones we use in lamps?"

"The same, but arranged in a complicated pattern. They create a pulse field. We call it a gate. Moving them will affect the gate, but it can easily be restored. It is conceivable, however, that someone could create a destructive pattern. One that would emit a pulse that would collapse the gates permanently."

"But that could leave people in the wrong realm or even stranded in the Tween World." Electrum shivered at the horror of it."

"Yes, a most alarming thought. It is why the gatekeepers exist and why their work is secret."

Electrum nodded.

"Since there is nothing more we can do at this time, perhaps I can help you. Were you looking for something particular in the scrolls?"

Electrum forced his thoughts away from gate destruction. He needed answers for Trevor. "Something on humans," he began.

"Humans? As in giants of the Tween World?"

Electrum nodded.

"Thinking of expanding our trade lines?"

"More along the enchantment line."

Simon raised his eyebrows. "Would that be casting enchantments or...breaking them?"

Electrum cleared his throat. "Breaking."

Simon nodded thoughtfully. "I see." He pulled down a scroll and started scanning it. He muttered as he ran his finger down a list of references.

"Enchantments, types of, seasonal, subjects of, casting...ah here we are...breaking." He slid the index back in its place. Bending down, he pulled out a scroll from under a lower branch and blew off the dust. He held it out. "I believe this might answer your request."

Electrum took the scroll back to his room. It was about an hour before twilight when he finally found the right section. The letters on the yellowed page blurred and shifted in the spotty light coming through the branches. He uncovered the glowstone lamp and rubbed his eyes.

How to unenchant a human child. The subject must be in the place where he was first enchanted, with the area largely unchanged. Boulders, trees, and other vegetation such as mushrooms should be as close to their original state as possible. Pookah dust must be stored in a crystal paned flask and aged for at least two full nights of moonlight. The dust must then be sprinkled on the subject while he is bathed in the light of a lunar eclipse.

Bother, he thought. What did the clearing look like? He remembered sitting on a mushroom and waiting for Trevor. No, that was last night.

He thought hard back to the night when Trevor had shrunk. There had been a lot of confusion. He didn't recall any flowers, but was there a mushroom? All his concentration had been on the boy and the cat.

He remembered flying down and landing on – a rock or a mushroom? The cat had sniffed him and he jumped down. He was pretty sure it was a rock. Tonight he would check out the clearing when they met with Trevor.

FROM A MERCHANT'S POINT OF VIEW

August 26/27

Trevor sat on a large oak leaf and leaned against Brownie. Sparkles lay on the ground and dotted the mushroom. The air always felt colder when he was small. He snuggled deeper into the cat's fur.

When Trevor and Brownie had arrived in the clearing, the pookah was flying around muttering about rocks and mushrooms. He seemed to be taking notes on what looked like a small notepad.

Silverthorn and Electrum had stayed just long enough to explain the plan for unenchantment before flying off.

"I don't like the idea of Electrum putting dust on me," Trevor said.

"It's probably no worse than that flea stuff." Brownie scratched his ear.

"We need a plan for the big night."

"You mean like how much catnip can we carry off?"

Trevor shook his head. "Like an agreed on place to meet, how to get over the wall, things like that."

They discussed plans until Trevor felt the familiar tingling that meant he was growing. He jumped up. Immediately the air felt warmer.

"Time to go home," he said.

"Mrow," Brownie replied.

Stars filled the sky as they walked back from the woods. He wished that Brownie could talk so he could fine-tune his plans.

When they reached the yard, he scratched the cat's head and whispered, "Maybe Mom and Dad are watching TV and won't notice how late it is." The cat purred, and slipped away into the night. "Goodnight Brownie," he called softly.

Timidly he opened the door and tiptoed into the kitchen. Holding the knob to keep it from making noise, he pushed the door shut and slowly released it. It latched with a soft click.

"How's the stars?" his father boomed.

"Ahhh!" Trevor jumped and spun around.

His dad grinned. "I share your enthusiasm. Almost a full moon tonight."

His mother put a plate of cookies on the table with a big smile. "There's milk in the frig." She tipped her head listening. "I think the commercial is over. Do you need anything else?"

"Um...no thanks," Trevor said.

She kissed his cheek and followed his father back to the living room. "Don't stay up late," she called over her shoulder.

Trevor climbed the stairs in a daze as he munched on a cookie. How long would that pookah dust work anyway? It had already been three days and his parents were still acting funny. It gave him the creeps.

Would the pookah dust affect him the way it had his parents? Would it really cure him? Or would it just make him think he was cured? Maybe he would continue to shrink every evening for the rest of his life and not even know it!

Closing the door to his room he glanced around. No little visitors sat in the window or on the table. He looked under the bed. The ship was still there. At least he thought it was there.

This was crazy. He pushed the confusing thoughts aside. Before he could worry about being unenchanted, he would have to face getting the catnip from the garden. The eclipse would occur in four nights.

Electrum was thinking up powerful dust to use on Mrs. Hayworth and the dog and cat. He wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with Electrum's thought dust. What if he spilled it on himself?

He crawled into bed and fell asleep. In his dream he was walking through tall grass. The grass turned into barrels and he was on the ship again. It creaked and shifted. He started sliding down the sloping deck and tried to scream, but nothing came out. He crashed into the railing and his fingers closed around the wood. Over the sound of his panting he heard singing.

It was a familiar tune. Jingle Bells? But the words were strange.

As golden twilight falls

It's like a fairy tale.

The merchant ship sets out

With warm air in the sail.

A cargo rare and prized,

Every stitch and seam,

Part of a wondrous tapestry

from Mirta's Woven Dreams.

Pollywogs young and fair

Not yet full grown sprites

Working with such special care

To get there before night.

Ahoy!

Pollywogs, brave and stout

Running to and fro.

Hear the pookah captain shout,

"Steady as she goes!"

Trevor was swimming up through water. As he broke the surface, he gasped for air and woke up, but the singing continued.

The Passage River's deep

So sail it with great care

Bring to the Golden Realm

The wood from trees so fair

The wood will form our looms

To make the sails for ships

To carry on the merchant trade

On daring future trips.

He opened his eyes and the singing stopped. When he turned his head, Amber was sitting on the tapestry watching him.

"Good morning," she said. "I was beginning to think you were going to sleep till sunrise, which isn't too far away."

"Was that you singing?"

"Who else? But we're short on time. We'll need to skip the pleasantries and get right to the plan."

He sat up. "What plan?"

"Mrs. Hayworth's garden...finding the Changeling Plant...making it safely to the woods...how long does it take you to wake up?"

"I'm awake."

"Good. Now, tell me the plan. How do you get past the sentinels?"

Trevor tried to remember all the things the pookah had told him. He remembered the part about being unenchanted, but the rest of it blurred. "Electrum is thinking up some dust to distract them."

"That might work. So do you gather the plant while you're small?"

He hesitated. "I think I do that before I shrink." He still wasn't clear as to how he was going to get the dust on Mrs. Hayworth without getting it on himself. "Once I shrink, Brownie will carry me to the woods. Then Electrum will do whatever he does with it to turn Silverthorn gold. He said he found a way to break my enchantment. It will work, won't it? It's not just a trick?"

"You needn't worry about that. A pookah always keeps his word, and Electrum is a Grand Pookah."

She stood up and he saw she had been sitting on a small bag. She placed one foot on the bag and leaned on her knee. "It sounds like they haven't planned for any details or mishaps. One should always be prepared for the unexpected."

Trevor chuckled. "Like a Boy Scout?"

"Like a merchant." She pointed to the bag. "Something to carry the dust and the leaves. It can be strapped to your back when you're small." Her smile was smug. "I made it myself." Chanting in a singsong voice she began opening pockets and tying and untying straps. It was like watching a professional salesman give his pitch on the shopping channel.

She showed him a large knife for cutting the plant. Then she pulled out a thin string that looked like fishing wire. "I also threw in some rope. Light, strong, supple. Never know when you might need some rope. Mirta wove it. You won't find any finer. You'd trade dearly for this at market."

"Uh...thanks," he said.

She sat down and ran her hand over the tapestry. "This was woven by Mirta too. It was on the ship?"

He nodded.

"I didn't see the ship in the yard. Were you able to rescue it or did it dissolve?"

"It's under the bed."

She nodded. "And the rest of the cargo?"

"Still on board. The rug is the only thing I took off."

"Why this?"

"The crate was already open. There were several bundles. The covering on this one was torn."

She narrowed her eyes. "Already open? You mean it had broken open."

He shook his head. "No, someone had opened it. The lid was lying several feet away."

"You didn't see anyone on board?"

He shivered. "Just a spider. I hit it with one of the glowing rocks."

"Impressive. You have more courage than I thought. You must have found the barrel of glowstones. They're quite valuable. Mined in the Gold Realm you know. One of our chief exports. The other major trade item is our weaving. Mirta is the best. This tapestry is one of hers."

"Who is Mirta?"

"A master weaver and the one who raised me. She weaves her thoughts into the fabric. This piece is strong with her dreams."

"Then it belongs to you," Trevor said.

Stretching her wings she said, "Keep it safe for me. I will send someone to pick it up tomorrow night." She flew over to the window and slipped through the hole in the screen. With a wave she flew away.

Trevor dressed and walked downstairs thinking about the tapestry. He slid into his chair at the breakfast table. Instead of the cereal he was expecting, a paper lay in his bowl. It was folded into the shape of star.

He picked it up. "What's this?"

His dad looked up from his astronomy magazine. "Looks like a star to me. Why don't you open it?"

Trevor unfolded the paper and smoothed it out.

His father watched over the top of his magazine. Trevor could only see his eyes, but they had crinkles at the edges and he knew he was grinning. "Well?" his father asked.

Trevor scanned the paper. It was a flyer for an eclipse party at the high school in three days. "An eclipse party?" he asked.

His dad put down the magazine. "Overwhelmed aren't you? I knew you'd be excited. There will be telescopes set up all over the field. Food, prizes, video games, all with a galactic theme. They're even raffling off one of the telescopes. I already signed us up. Isn't it great?"

Trevor felt panic rising inside. "What time does it start?" he asked.

"We won't miss any of the fun. The eclipse begins just when it's starting to get dark. We'll get there just before twilight."

"Twilight?" Trevor squeaked.

"I know what you're thinking, but don't worry." He winked and whispered. "I'll handle your mom. She won't think twice about you being out after dark."

But what would she think about him being six inches tall? The high school was blocks away from Mrs. Hayworth's garden. It would seem like miles once he had shrunk.

SIMON'S WARNING

After a morning of haggling with local merchants Electrum wasn't sure it was an honorable profession. Still, he felt he had made some good bargains. He squeezed through the door to his room and dropped several packages and two new traveling bags on the floor.

Those purchases had been easy. Finding the right flask had taken hours. His feet were tired from tramping through shop after shop. He had almost given up before he found it on the top shelf in the back of a littered pottery workroom. It was so coated with dust that at first he thought it was made of hardened clay.

He hoped it was still intact. From his pocket he pulled the small bundle wrapped in lily petals. He pushed aside the petals and smiled with relief as he held it up to the window.

Light poured through the clear crystal panels showing it was empty. The panels were attached with resin to bent reeds making it round at the bottom. A clear faceted stone was stuck into the short tapered neck and held in place by a filigree clasp and a thin silver cord.

He filled the bottle with thought dust from his hat and set it on the shelf out of the sunlight. As an extra caution he covered it with the lily petals.

Three days to the eclipse. That didn't leave much time. Whatever happened during the eclipse, there would be no coming back here. Once the King was aware of his part in the scheme, he would no longer be welcome at the palace or even in the Silver Realm. Sterling would probably want to arrest him for treason.

The afternoon sun warmed the room and he rubbed his eyes. Maybe just a short nap before packing. He lay down. The breeze stirred his hair and the hammock rocked soothingly.

He was just drifting off when a knock on the doorframe jarred him. He struggled upright. The hammock swayed with the sudden movement, dumping him onto the floor. He landed with an thump and an, "oof."

"Electrum?" Simon's voice called through the door tapestry.

"Yes, yes," Electrum said and struggled to his feet. He was just popping on his hat when Simon looked inside.

"I hope I haven't come at a bad time?"

Electrum straightened his hat scattering sparkles. "Come in." He cleared off the chairs and motioned for Simon to sit down. "What can I do for you?"

Simon stepped over the bags. "I thought perhaps it was time for us to talk about the boys."

Electrum felt confused. He was still shaking the sleep out of his head and was having difficulty following the conversation.

Simon looked past him at the swinging hammock. "You know how young boys can sometimes rock the boat."

"Boys? You mean Silverthorn and Gilder?"

"Naturally."

"There's been a problem with a boat?"

"I was speaking metaphorically," Simon said with a smile. "I see you have begun the process of packing. You've decide then to retire and leave the palace after the eclipse?"

"Yes, I'm looking forward to a change of scenery. Though I'll miss this room and possibly even the palace intrigue."

"You will be a welcome visitor. If you're so inclined, I might occasionally even have need for your services."

"It's always nice to have options."

Simon cleared his throat. "Speaking of intrigue," he said and pulled a white cloth from his pocket. "I've been doing some dusting in the library and found this." He unfolded the cloth and it sparkled.

Electrum leaned forward. "That's gold sprite dust," he said.

"I was hoping you could tell me how it got in the library."

"Me? It's not pookah dust."

"No, but you left behind some thought dust when you visited the King several days ago. The thoughts were jumbled. Something about Silverthorn, Amber, and the Tween World?"

Electrum started to speak, but Simon waved his hand. "Don't try to explain. My concern is with the gold dust on the cloth. It was on the outside of a small intricate box. A box that I later saw in Gilder's room."

The box full of Amber's dust Electrum thought. Trying to sound casual he asked, "Do you know what's inside?"

Simon shook his head. "It was sealed."

Electrum felt relief. At least they did something right.

"I have a suspicion the box is somehow connected to Silverthorn. Gilder has great loyalty to the prince. At times it tends to cloud his judgment. He's serving as a pollywog on the Dragonfly, and will spend the day in the Gold Realm. If the boys are planning anything that will have diplomatic ramifications..." He raised his eyebrows.

"I see what you mean," Electrum said slowly.

"There have been rumors about the merchant girl."

"We wouldn't want Sterling to be disturbed by rumors," Electrum said.

"Youth is a time of passion. Any idealistic demonstrations before the eclipse would further increase Sterling's paranoia, and would be most unfortunate."

"I understand."

"You know your business best." Simon got up to leave.

"I'm sure there won't be any issues before the eclipse," Electrum said. During the eclipse will be a different matter he thought.

Simon picked up the cloth and folded it precisely. "After the eclipse Amber will be relegated to her realm, the prince will be of age, and your duties completed. It will be a whole new world."

"It will indeed," Electrum said. I only hope we're all comfortable in the Gold Realm he thought.

After Simon left, all thoughts of a nap were gone. Electrum opened the travel bags and methodically began packing. By the time he finished, the air was getting cool.

He glanced out in the hall. It was empty. Quickly he piled the bags outside his door. It didn't look like much to represent his years of service to the King. It would easily fit into a small handcart.

Hoping he wouldn't run into Sterling or any of his guards, he made his way to the base of the tree. At the entrance he stopped one of the servant sprites.

"How'd you like to earn a couple silver coins?" he said.

"Yes, sir!" the sprite answered.

"I have a shipment for the Gold Realm on tomorrow morning's run," he said. "I'd like them loaded tonight. The bags are up top. Need to be lowered down and taken to the docks. You'll need a cart. Are you familiar with the ships?"

"My uncle works at the docks. My cousin can help me. Which ship are they going on?"

"The Dragonfly."

"I know it. Captain Ragnar's ship." His face clouded. "But it's nothing like the Salamander. That ship was a beauty."

Electrum smiled. "Right you are lad. Come along then and I'll show you the bags."

He led him back through the palace to where the bags still sat in the hallway. He handed the boy some coins and a shipping paper. "The bags are marked and the crew is expecting them."

"Thank you, sir," the boy said with a big grin. Carefully he tucked the coins in a pocket and buttoned it closed.

Electrum went inside his room and dropped the door tapestry into place. All that was left in the room was the hammock, a few clothes, and a small bag.

For awhile he heard shuffling and thumping outside the door, but then it got quiet. When he looked out, the bags were gone. He hoped the apartment Ragnar found was suitable.

Before climbing into his hammock, he hung the flask in the window. The crystal stopper caught the moonbeam and seemed to pull the light into the bottle.

RAGNAR'S CHOICE

August 28

Disguised as an elderly sprite, Electrum made his way down to the silver docks the next morning. With only two days before the eclipse, he wasn't taking any chances. He wanted to check out the apartment in the Gold Realm and didn't want any questions from Sterling or anyone else.

He stooped over. The upturned collar of his jacket covered the back of his neck. It rubbed against the brim of a tattered hat when he moved his head.

The pollywogs jostled and bumped him as he made his way onto the Dragonfly. He found an out of the way spot and settled in for the ride.

The ship drifted out of the harbor. Morning mist matched his gloomy thoughts as it swirled over the water. A life of spotless service, and now he was sneaking out of the realm like a pirate.

Sneaking off indeed, he thought. It wasn't like he was stealing anything. Everything in the bundles belonged to him whether he retired to a silver tree or a gold apartment. Sterling wouldn't see it that way when he found out the prince was gone.

But one could argue it was the prince who was doing the stealing. He wasn't sure how many items Silverthorn had sent ahead with Gilder, but one thing he did know. An unintended consequence of all this was that his own future in the Silver Realm was gone.

He wondered about the apartment that Ragnar had found. What would it be like living in rooms carved out of rock instead of pallets in a tree?

The front room would be his office where sprites made deals for shipping their goods. Silverthorn could handle most of the paperwork. The prince liked making deals.

Not for me, thought Electrum. Most of the time he wanted to be out on the Passage River in a small, unique boat. Enjoying the outdoors. Proving you didn't have to cloak a ship to be a captain. Sterling would be shocked when he saw him pull up at the dock with his own ship!

Sterling. Suddenly Electrum realized the flaw in his plan. He wouldn't be able to return to the Silver Realm. Not as the Grand Pookah. Not as a ship captain. Not even as Simon's guest. Sterling would charge him with treason for helping the prince. Not even Simon would be able to intervene.

Voices shouted from the dock as the ship eased into port. Electrum struggled to his feet and made his way off the ship. It took several minutes to rent a handcart.

He sat on the side of the cart and waited while the dockhands unloaded the ship. Finally he saw his bags being carried down the ramp and waved with his cane. They dropped the bags into the cart. The last bundle was the weather-stained bag with the tarnished metal seal.

He threw a tarp over the bundles and handed a coin to the dockhand. "Stay with the cart," he rasped out. "I need a word with the captain."

Electrum limped up the ramp leaning heavily on his cane. Only part of it was an act. His leg was stiff from falling out of the hammock the day before. Ragnar's door opened and he waved him inside. As soon as the door was closed, Ragnar chuckled.

"I like the limp, Electrum. Nice touch."

"Just something I picked up along the way." He eased himself into a chair.

The captain sobered and handed him an envelope. "Here's the papers for your office. The apartment is in the back. Comfortable and not too public. It's built out a bit so you even have the windows you wanted. Thought you might need that after living in a tree all these years."

"I'm sure it will suit my purposes." He dropped a small change purse on the table. "Your payment as agreed."

"It's not near as fancy as the royal tree."

"After all these years in the palace, a little privacy will be welcome."

"Privacy or secrecy?" Ragnar's smile was warm. "You're quite sure you know what you're doing?"

Electrum chuckled. "No, I'm not sure at all. Time will tell."

"The prince was quite a favorite with the pollywogs. He is missed in the Gold Realm. I suppose once he comes of age, things won't be quite the same at the royal tree."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Well I don't want to pry..."

"I appreciate your concern and your friendship," Electrum said.

Ragnar shrugged. "You know best. Should you run into any difficulties, I'm sure we could work out an arrangement that would be beneficial to all. Perhaps we can do business together in the future."

"Like old times perhaps. I will be in touch."

DEFENSIVE THOUGHTS

Electrum shuffled down the ramp. Soon he was pushing the cart through crowded streets. The stiffness in his leg was wearing off.

He caught whiffs of enticing smells from open doorways. Vendors in front of the shops shouted from behind tables laden with ripe berries, fresh baked fruit rolls and roasted nuts.

"Sweet sesame fig logs," called an overweight sprite waving a pastry in the air. "Just baked this morning and rolled in coconut."

Electrum stepped up and looked over the array of pastries. "I'll take one," Electrum said. Off to the side was a shriveled pastry that had been left in the oven too long. He jabbed a finger at it. "I'll take that one too, please."

The vendor looked at him surprised. "I'll throw that in at no charge." He handed the pookah a package wrapped in thin waxed paper. Electrum dropped a coin in the outstretched hand and tucked the package in amongst his baggage.

Soon he had left the noises and smells of the market behind. He checked the address on the envelope and turned down a narrow side street. The cart bumped against the walls and he hoped he wouldn't meet anyone coming the other way.

He stopped in front of a door framed by tall narrow windows. It led into a thatched roof extension that projected out from the mountain. On the cliff above the roof another window was cut into the natural stone.

Ragnar had chosen well. Inside, there was even a smattering of furniture, but all his attention was drawn to the back wall. A tapestry woven with vivid violets and bright orange marigolds hung over a doorway.

"Maybe Mirta will have something to replace this," he muttered. "The sooner the better." He pulled it aside and stepped into a spacious main room where two overstuffed cushions sat in front of a fireplace. For a moment he considered forgetting everything else and just curling up in one.

It didn't take long to unload the cart. He set the pastry bag on a narrow table in a cozy, eating nook. It would be crowded until the prince married and moved out.

He pushed the shutters closed leaving thin stripes of light on the floor and shadows in the corners. Alone and undisturbed, he thought. Perfect for creating thought dust for eclipse night.

He molded one of the cushions into a comfortable pile and sank into it. His eyelids drooped and he concentrated until he could see Brownie's face in his mind. Like a painter, he began making subtle changes to the kind, lighthearted expression.

The fur fluffed out. The lips parted revealing sharp pointed teeth. A drop of saliva hung from one corner. The golden eyes took on a red glint and the ears flattened against his head. Soft brown fur melted into menacing yellow. Once again he could see the monster cat as it emerged from under the car and its eyes focused on him. The tail lashed from side to side.

As the cat sank into a crouch, the form of a human appeared astride the wide back. The human's jeans and T-shirt dissolved into primitive animal hides. When he raised his arm, it became a large club with spikes.

The cat's sharp teeth grew into long fangs, and from somewhere deep inside the large yellow body a low growl began. Distant drums rumbled, mixing with the growl. From the mouth of the human came a war cry, and the cat's growl burst into a yowl as if the very fabric of the air was being torn.

The drums stopped suddenly and the cat launched itself straight at him, a yellow ball of teeth, claws and glowing eyes. Electrum threw his arms over his face with a yell. There was a heavy boom! Then silence.

Electrum's heart was thumping and his breath came in gasps. A loud pounding made him jump out of the cushion. His eyes focused on the shuttered windows and the door. Someone knocking. With shaking hands he poured the thought dust from his hat into a yellow leaf jar.

I'm getting too old for this he thought. He opened the door and blinked in the sunlight.

A sprite holding a parchment said, "Delivery for Electrum. Is that you?"

"Yes, what is it?"

He pointed to a wooden crate that sat balanced on a flatbed cart. Three other sprites stood around it. Their hands resting on rope handles attached to the corners.

"I didn't order anything," Electrum said.

The sprite handed over the parchment and tapped it. "Sign there."

Electrum scanned the document and saw it was from Gilder.

"Hup!" the leader barked. Electrum almost dropped the paper. The four sprites grabbed the rope handles and heaved on the crate. In unity they slid it off the cart and marched inside.

"Up against the wall, please," Electrum called as he jumped out of the way.

The leader grunted, and they staggered across the room and dropped it with a dull boom.

Shaking his head, Electrum signed the release and gave the leader a coin as he left. The crate was plain. The type used by the shipmakers for transporting scrap wood. It was nailed shut. He tried to shove the crate closer to the wall but it wouldn't budge.

"Crazy kid must have sent half the kingdom over," he muttered. "Hope Sterling doesn't get wind of it. Whole things gives me an appetite."

He pattered into the eating nook and pulled a stool up to the table. As he unwrapped the sesame rolls, the smell of fresh pastry and sweet figs brought the market scene and the surprised vendor back to mind. Pushing the thoughts aside, he picked up the good pastry and left the burnt one lying on the paper.

Now to think like a little yipper dog. He studied the burnt roll. It looked like a bone. The darkened crust around the edges clung like pieces of meat. The thought was nauseating. He shook his hat clear and tried again.

With closed eyes, he focused this time on the taste of the roll. When he bit into it, fig juice dribbled on his chin. Sweetness flooded his mouth.

What would it be like to chew on something that delectable that didn't get eaten up? Like a dog with something rancid and sinewy. He imagined himself a dog that was looking for that kind of bone.

He wanted it now. Wanted that savory taste that could be relished for hours. The sensation of chewing, gnawing, slobbering. But he had hidden it from the other dogs. Buried it so they couldn't see it or smell it. But he couldn't remember where.

Searching frantically. Digging in the soft dirt. Burrowing to find the treasure. Grubbing and scraping. Hunger for the taste of that perfect bone. Knocking.

Electrum opened his eyes. Knocking? Another series of raps on the door. What this time? There were more interruptions here than in the palace.

He wiped his chin and left his hat on the table. When he opened the door, a figure staggered inside.

"Electrum," Amber said. "What took you so long? Oof, this is heavy." She shrugged off a bag and set down a basket. "My it's dark in here."

Sweeping through the room, she drew open the shutters and uncovered glowstone lamps. Light flooded in. Turning, she almost tripped over the crate. "What's this?"

"Silverthorn's dowry," Electrum said with disgust.

"Well, that's a surprise."

"Did you expect him to show up with nothing but a heart full of love?" Electrum snorted at the thought.

"What do you suppose is in it?" She ran her fingers over the seams.

"Whatever he felt he just couldn't live without. All I can say for sure is that it's heavy."

"Wasn't it risky sending his personal treasures that way? I mean, if they couldn't be replaced. What if something had happened to the shipment? Do you think he could be happy without – without whatever is in there?"

Electrum laughed. "We'll never know, since it did arrive. An easier question is what's in the basket?"

"She scooped it up and led the way to the kitchen. She hesitated at the flowered tapestry. "Ooo, this is rather..." her voice trailed off.

"Garish? Tacky? Colorful?" he asked. "It came with the apartment. First on my agenda is to ask for Mirta's help with decorating."

She giggled. "I brought something in the bag that might help. Mirta didn't want you to be homesick." Swinging the basket she led the way into the eating nook. "This is cozy." She picked up his hat.

"Careful with that!"

She froze in place and he took the hat from her. Cradling it so it didn't spill, he poured the dust into a red leaf jar.

"It's for tomorrow night."

"Oh!" Her eyes sparkled. "For the boy?"

He nodded. "Well, actually for the dog."

She pointed at the burnt pastry with disdain. "What is that?"

"Inspiration."

"Are you finished with it?"

"Yes."

She dumped it in the stove. "It might make good kindling." She whipped the cloth off her basket revealing several parcels. "A little house warming from Mirta. Much superior to that stuff you bought in the market. Mirta's pastries and wraps are real food."

Electrum leaned over and peered into the basket.

"The letter is from me to Silverthorn," she added shyly. "Would you mind delivering it?"

He chuckled. "Not at all, but I won't promise to share the goodies."

She replaced the cloth. On her way to the front door, she paused and gazed at the crate. "Don't suppose you're going to open that?"

"Silverthorn can unpack his own stuff."

She sighed. "I have to get back to the shop. Mirta has more deliveries for me to make."

"Don't forget your bag."

"Oh that's for you too. It's an original bag – by me. What's inside is from Mirta."

Then she was gone.

She certainly adds energy to a room, he thought. He was surprised to see a small rug inside the bag. He carried to one of the sleeping alcoves and unrolled it in front of the hammock.

He slipped off his boots and curled his toes into the rug. Coolness spread over his feet and the smell of pine drifted up. He laughed. Mirta had remembered his retirement tree.

One more thought dust package to prepare. This one should be easy. It was all he could do not to think about sleep.

Fingers of light from the apartment's front windows reached just inside his sleeping room. The faint light filled it with soft shadows like dreams. He climbed into the hammock and stuffed an extra pillow behind his head. Pulling his hat forward over his eyes, he settled in and began preparing thought dust for Mrs. Hayworth.

His muscles were sore from packing. No, from working in the garden he corrected. Stooping, lifting. It would be so good just to lie down. Give in to the weariness. Put one foot in front of the other. The garden was hot. Just a few steps into the house. It would be cool inside and the hammock would be soft and comfortable. Sweet rest with a cool breeze tinted with the scent of pine. And flowers he added. Bluebonnets and Daffodils.

He drifted into a pleasant dream where he wandered through a pleasant garden. When he woke up the room was dark. No breeze stirred. An unnatural silence filled the room as if it were waiting for something. He started to sit up and his hat shifted on his head. Instinctively he caught it, and then remembered where he was.

Had he slept too long and missed the ship? He rushed out of the living quarters with dust streaming off his hat. Subdued light came through the office windows. He sighed with relief. The sun must be on the other side of the cliff. With windows on only one side, the apartment got dark quickly. There was still time to catch the Dragonfly, but he would have to hurry.

He turned with dismay. Most of the thoughts from his hat were now a trail of sparkles on the floor. After pouring what was left into a green leaf jar, it was only half full. On hands and knees he brushed the sparkles into a pile and put them in the jar in tedious pinches. There was barely enough to fill it. Quickly he sealed the jars with resin and crowded them into the basket with Mirta's food and Amber's letter.

He threw on his disguise and snatched up the basket with one hand and the bag with the other. The cart was gone. A bill from the rental company flapped in the breeze, held to the door by a dot of resin.

Stuffing it in Amber's bag, he hurried through the narrow streets. They were still loading the ship when he arrived at the dock, panting and winded. A breeze from the harbor chilled him. He stopped at a cart and bought an acorn of spiced dandelion tea wrapped in a cloth to keep it hot.

Composed now, he slowed his walk and hobbled onto the Dragonfly. His spot by the rail was open, and he sank down onto the deck gratefully. The bag tucked behind him cushioned his back and blocked the brisk air coming over the water. With a shutter, the ship began to move out into the harbor.

The familiar foggy chill settled over the ship as they passed through the gate. Ducking his head down, Electrum pulled up his hood and tugged the cloak tighter. The hot cup felt good against his fingers, and the liquid warmed his throat. Soon they emerged into the Tween World.

When he glanced over the water, he saw one of the pollywogs flying away from the ship. For a moment he flew with the young sprite in his mind and felt again the thrill of discovery. The cold air felt invigorating.

He was stiff as he started to get up. The basket bumped against his bruised leg with a dull ache. Sinking back down, he repositioned the basket. His days of youthful exploration were over.

He took comfort in one of Mirta's pastries and another sip of hot tea. He began to chuckle. The eclipse was coming and the resulting chaos would rival any exploits of his youth. In two nights the comfortable security of his employment would come to an abrupt end, but his adventure was just beginning.

LATE SHIPMENT

Trevor stuck his head part way into the drawer. His mom had done the laundry, and now it was filled with clean socks. He pawed through them.

"Got it," he cried with triumph. From the back corner he pulled out the cloth bag that had been wrapped around the ship's rug.

After several tries, he finally got the rug rolled tight enough to stuff into the bag. Over the long tear he wrapped scotch tape, then set it on the windowsill.

Silverthorn and Electrum wouldn't be meeting him in the woods tonight, but Amber said someone was coming to get the rug. He wanted to wait by the window where he could watch for their arrival, but it had taken him awhile to figure out how to get there.

He stacked up two piles of books on the dresser. Between them he placed one end of a wooden ruler. The other end reached the windowsill. Testing it, he pressed down on the middle. It was a little spongy, but not too bad. The books should keep it from shifting sideways. It would be a long fall though if he missed a step. He threw a pillow on the floor just in case.

From his desk he took out a rubber band and stretched it. Bungee jumping wasn't what he had in mind. He traded it for string. After tying one end to the screen, he stretched it back alongside the ruler and attached it to the lamp.

Outside, the sunlight dipped below the trees casting shadows across the pumpkin patch. It was almost time.

He hoisted himself onto his dresser, trying not to knock anything over. Crouching, he waited. The familiar tingling started. The room grew immense around him. His head swirled and he was looking at the floor that now seemed miles away. He scrambled away from the edge. Panting and clammy, he waited for his heartbeat to slow to something near normal.

Giant numbers on the clock cast a greenish glow on Amber's backpack, like the light from a cheap monster movie. It might come in handy, he thought and shrugged it onto his back. Heart racing again, he stepped to the ruler's edge. The string wavered and felt wobbly under his hand.

The ruler had looked flat before, but now the curved surface and slanting edge were all too clear. A rut ran down one side. He tried to stay away from the slanting edge and keep his feet in the rut without turning his ankle. Careful not to look down, he made it across. He took off the backpack and settled into the window's corner.

He didn't have to wait long. Minutes later a sprite landed on the outside sill. He poked his head through the screen's hole and looked around. A big grin spread over his face. "You must be Trevor. I'm Gilder."

"You know about me?" Trevor asked.

"Sure. Little guy. No wings. Amber's backpack. You're quite the hot topic."

"Everybody knows about me?"

"Naw, just a few of us." He pushed the rest of the way through the screen and set down a box. "I'm here to pick up the tapestry."

"It's there," Trevor said pointing to the bundle. "It's not going to fit in that box."

"That would have been convenient, but the box is already full. I'll need your help. I'm a little short on time."

"You guys are always in a rush."

Gilder shrugged. "Twilight doesn't last long. I jumped ship to get here. If I'm lucky, I'll catch up with it before it reaches the gate. If not, I'll have to lug this thing all the way home on my back. Could you give me a hand with it?"

Trevor lifted the bundle. He was amazed at how heavy it was now. He helped Gilder position it between his wings. "Why did you bring the box? Wouldn't it have been easier to leave it on the ship?"

Gilder flapped his wings. "It's too valuable to leave lying around." He moved his head and shoulders back and forth. "Throw this rope over it and hand me the ends." He tied the rope in front. "I guess that will have to do. You've done the gatekeepers a great service. Any messages for anyone?"

"Tell Electrum don't forget me."

"He won't forget you. We're all counting on you. Now if you'll just hand me the box." As he took it, a thin trail of gold dust spilled from one corner. "See you at the eclipse. Let us know if you need anything before then." He struggled to squeeze through the hole.

Trevor pushed on the bundle. It popped through the hole. Gilder slipped off the window ledge and dropped out of sight. Trevor gasped and leaned out the window. The sprite had not hit the ground, but the weight of the tapestry was obviously a burden. Slowly he gained altitude, dipping and weaving as he flew.

Trevor said softly, "I hope you make your ship."

He lost sight of the sprite as he got near the woods. The sky darkened, and he could see a few bright stars. Familiar constellations formed as other stars appeared. Glancing back at the clock, he was shocked at how late it was. Twilight was almost over.

Alarmed, he jumped to his feet and ran onto the ruler. His foot slipped and the ruler shifted. He grabbed for the string. His fingers closed around it, but the ruler tipped off the dresser. Clutching the string with nothing but air beneath him, he screamed with terror. With each movement the string rubbed on the ragged points of the cut screen.

His skin began to tingle. The frayed string snapped. With a trailing wail he plunged toward the dresser. It grew in size and his feet hit with a jolt as he landed, full size, on the pillow.

The lamp slid forward, pushing the books off the edge. One glanced off his shoulder, and another hit his leg. He looked up to see the lamp topple. Instinctively he held out his hands and caught it.

"What's going on in here?"

Trevor jerked his head around. His mother stood in the doorway with hands on hips. She crossed the room and scooped the lamp from his hands. As Trevor struggled to his feet she plucked at the string. "I thought you were outside using the telescope and here you are – what are you doing?"

"Just playing, Mom."

"It looks and sounds like you're tearing the place apart. Let's not have any more furniture moving, okay?"

"Okay, Mom."

"And get this room cleaned up." She set the lamp down and marched out.

Trevor took the backpack out of the windowsill and put in the desk drawer. Just one more night, he thought.

BACK THROUGH THE TUNNEL

August 28/29

The Dragonfly neared the Silver Gate and Electrum leaned over the rail. He swallowed the last drop of tea from the acorn cup and dropped it into the water. It bobbed on the surface. Mist from the Silver Gate closed around the ship turning everything into vague, blurry shapes.

He turned to sit down. A pollywog stumbled over the basket and staggered against him. A bundle strapped to his back thumped against Electrum and shoved him into railing.

"Sorry," the sprite mumbled, and disappeared into the mist.

Electrum felt along the deck and found the basket. He pushed it against the railing and put one arm protectively around it. When they emerged into the Silver Realm, the deck was filled with pollywogs, but none of them were carrying bundles. Other ships emerged from the gate and the captains called to one another as they headed into port.

Electrum picked up the basket, and gold sparkles fell from the handle. Must have fallen off the bundle, though that seemed untidy. Everyone is in such a hurry, he thought.

He strolled toward the palace. Once under the trees, he stepped into the shadows under an overhanging bush. All was quiet. He took off his disguise and stuffed it into the bag. He was ready to climb into his hammock.

Electrum woke late the next morning and looked around the barren room. It was much the same as when he had moved in years ago. Except for the bag and the basket, it could have been anyone's room.

He grabbed the flask out of the window. It was warm in his hand and seemed to be getting heavier each morning. He placed it on the empty shelf and covered it with the lily petals. They were wilted and turning brown, but they still blocked the sunlight.

He took one of Mirta's packages out of the basket. Breakfast. Amber's letter was nestled between the jars of thought dust.

He dressed while munching on the pastry roll scattering crumbs everywhere. Only two days left to tie up loose ends. He pulled on his hat and checked items off a list in his head.

Scroll with instructions for using the changeling plant. Mixing basin. Amber's bag to carry everything. Pack the few remaining items, including the hammock, and ship them out. Deliver letter to Silverthorn.

Gently he pulled out the letter, dropped the cloth back over the jars, and hurried out to find Silverthorn. He whipped around the corner and crashed into Sterling's solid form. His feet slipped. As he fell, he threw up his arm cracking his elbow against the metal breastplate. Pain shot up his shoulder, and he landed on the floor in an undignified heap. He glanced around for the letter. Sterling was picking it up.

"In a hurry this morning, Grand Pookah?"

Electrum struggled to his feet. Still a little off balance, he reached for the letter. Sterling caught his arm and steadied him.

"It's a little perilous working with children. Always creating a stir and often irresponsible. Practical discipline is what makes the difference." Sterling turned the letter over and ran his finger across Amber's seal. "Unfortunately part of growing for some sprites is having a few fantasies. It's a shame they have to experience heartbreak, but perhaps it's the only way they learn the realities of the world."

"Like discipline and respect for other's property and privacy?"

"Privacy is all well and good when it doesn't interfere with the security of the realm. I tried to get the King to cancel this ridiculous eclipse celebration. It only weakens both realms. All my guards will be on duty though."

"Guards? What kind of trouble are you expecting?"

"One never knows, but it's my job to be prepared. As a practical sprite, I haven't read all the old stories and don't possess an active imagination. You're a Grand Pookah. Maybe you could give me some insight on what unnatural things might occur during an eclipse."

Electrum frowned. "I don't recall any stories of unnatural happenings." He reached for the letter, but Sterling turned, moving it out of range.

"Some think it is unnatural for gold and silver sprites to communicate. One could reasonably argue that trade between the worlds is unnatural." He held out the letter.

Electrum snatched it and the guard chuckled.

"Deep thoughts for this morning," Sterling said. "Your hat is slipping." With one finger he tapped the brim and a thin stream of dust slid off the side.

Electrum stepped back. "If you'll excuse me. I would have thought you would still be conducting morning lessons for the prince."

Sterling smiled. "You seem to have overslept. Class was over sometime ago. He seemed quite eager to finish his drills today. I believe he was headed to the library. Spending quite a bit of time there lately."

"History and customs are also an intricate part of his education." Electrum tried to step around the guard, but Sterling smoothly sidestepped into his path.

"Perhaps your influence is stronger than you realize," Sterling said as he looked down at the shimmering thought dust on the floor.

Electrum dragged his foot through the dust and hurried down the hall. He could feel Sterling watching him as he entered the library. It was a relief to let the door tapestry fall into place and escape from his view. The room was dim. Someone was bent over the table reading a scroll by the light of a partially shielded glowstone lamp.

"Silverthorn?"

The sprite looked up and waved him closer as he closed the scroll.

Electrum glanced at the title. Eclipses From the Beginning of the Gates. "Studying the thoughts of the ancients?"

Silverthorn slid the scroll aside. "I'm more interested in your thoughts."

"Some sage words of wisdom from your old teacher?" He was flattered.

"I'd be interested in anything you have to say," Silverthorn said. He leaned forward and whispered, "But I was referring to your thought dust for the boy."

Electrum felt a twinge of disappointment, but forced a smile. "Completed and packaged."

The prince relaxed. "Did you visit the apartment? Did my crate arrive?"

"Yes, it arrived while I was there."

"I wasn't sure what all I would need."

"Apparently you packed everything. It took four husky sprites to carry it in."

Did everything fit in the apartment?"

"I didn't unpack it. I didn't even open it. You'll need to get used to doing things for yourself, unless you're having second thoughts. It's not too late to change your mind."

Silverthorn looked surprised. "I wasn't expecting you to wait on me. I just wondered if the apartment was to your liking. Anything you picked out will be fine with me."

Electrum wasn't sure if his annoyance was with Silverthorn or that he just felt unsettled. Maybe he was too old for this drastic a change, but he was in too deep now.

He dropped the letter on the table. "A love note from Amber. I have things to settle before tomorrow night. Let me know if she's backing out." Electrum left the prince staring at him dumbfounded.

He had only gone a few steps down the hall when he heard Sterling's voice coming from around the corner. Not wanting to encounter the captain again he paused to listen.

"I'm not exactly sure what we're looking for," Sterling said. "Just anything unusual. I could only get vague ideas from the thought dust. The pookah smeared it leaving the ideas jumbled."

"What kind of ideas?"

The voice had the timber of youth and strength with a touch of arrogance. Tanner, Electrum thought.

"Eclipse, secret plan, sealed jars, a changeling."

"What do you mean, a changeling?"

"I can't be certain, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was something from the Tween World."

Electrum fumed. How dare he shift through my thought dust. Does he think I'm a threat to the kingdom? Then he shivered as he realized he probably was a threat to the kingdom. He was after all helping the prince defect.

"I should have kept the letter," Sterling said.

"The prince is in the library." Tanner's voice was smooth and soothing in a cunning way. "You're the Captain of the Guard. You have the right to claim information that affects the security of the realm."

"You're right. We need to know what that merchant girl is planning."

"If you can't read the letter, perhaps the Grand Pookah could share more of his thoughts."

Sterling's laugh infuriated Electrum, but he knew he was no match for the guard. Not waiting to hear more, he ducked back into the library and dropped the door tapestry into place.

"Sterling," he hissed, but the warning fell on an empty room. A small pool of lamplight lay on the open scroll that Silverthorn had been reading, but the prince was gone. Slipperier than a river stone these days, Electrum thought. He hadn't come through the door. The only other way out was the tunnel.

He grabbed the scroll and his eyes darted around the room. Sterling must not see what Silverthorn had been reading. He shoved it onto the bottom shelf and put a generic lesson plan in its place on the table. Footsteps were coming down the hall.

With trembling hands he grasped the rope handle and yanked open the trapdoor. Bounding down the steps to the platform he lowered the door over his head. Seconds later the floor creaked under heavy feet and he heard muffled voices.

"Lessons on commerce," Sterling snarled. The scroll rattled as it was dragged across the table. "Bah! His time would be better spent on refining his skills with a sword and bow."

The floor vibrated and the door sagged as Sterling moved, then all was still.

Electrum hesitated. Had they left or were they waiting? Although the swinging steps made his stomach jittery, the tunnels were the only other way out. His jaw tightened. If Sterling didn't know about the trapdoor, he wasn't going to pop out and show it to him.

He placed his foot on the first hanging step and spread his wings for balance. They bumped against the walls with a soft brushing noise. He cringed and listened. Lamplight trickled across the crack.

Gripping the rails he began his descent. By the time he reached the dirt floor, his muscles were stiff and he took a moment to stretch his wings. The sigh of relief caught in his throat as a beam of light from above skittered over the walls.

The ropes creaked. Someone heavy began to descend the steps. Electrum dashed down the tunnel, the dirt floor absorbing his footsteps. Silverthorn must have come this way, but there was no sign of him.

When he reached the small room, it was empty and the door was bolted as before. A quick look through the window showed sprites in the storage yard stacking empty crates against the fence. Shielded from their view, Silverthorn crouched behind a crate in the shadow of an overhang.

Two of Sterling's guards landed in the yard, and marched toward the door. Electrum held his breath until they passed the prince's hiding place. The guards were only feet away from the door when Silverthorn silently slipped out behind them into the open. Gracefully he floated up and flew away over the fence.

Muttered threats and sounds of clinking armor drifted down from the passage above. A loud crack of splitting wood was followed by an angry yell.

Electrum ducked back from the window and scanned the room for a sign of the hidden door. As his eyes searched the walls, one section shifted slightly in and out of focus. He plunged through the opening and fled up the dim side tunnel.

Remembering the crate, he slowed his steps. Shouting and thumping echoed from behind. Cringing he rounded the corner. The noises faded. Chips set into the walls at random intervals gave the tunnel a dreamlike glow.

The crate was gone, but there was an outline in the dirt where it had set. The ground was softer here and several sets of booted footprints led down the tunnel. They were the first prints he had seen. Either made by fat sprites or they were carrying something heavy.

The slope became steeper and he hoped there was a way out at the end. He didn't like the idea of meeting Sterling down here alone. Bits of rock began appearing on the soft walls and soon the dirt had disappeared completely.

When he ran his hand over the rock, it left his fingers moist. A drop of water fell on his nose. Squinting, he looked up. The ceiling was stone, veined with cracks where water droplets collected.

If his sense of direction was not confused, he was heading toward the harbor and might already be under the river.

The tunnel leveled out. He shivered in the dampness. With his next step his foot slid forward on a smooth surface and he squeaked in surprise. The dirt floor had changed to wet flagstones. Twisting and flapping his wings in an awkward dance he managed to keep his balance.

For a moment he stood listening, but all he heard was his own heavy breathing. The skin on his back prickled with anticipation. At any moment Sterling could appear behind him.

He minced across the slippery floor toward an arched doorway where a rainbow of light shimmered on the floor like spilled water. He stepped through into a vaulted chamber.

This room was brighter than the tunnel. Colored lights traced an intricate design on the domed ceiling, but it wasn't a pattern he understood. The lights emerged from the rounded top of a pedestal that stood like a tall mushroom in the center of the room. Clear crystals were positioned at intervals on its base and seemed to be collecting light from glowstones in the wall.

There was something odd about the wall. Some sections seemed to be crumbling and the stone had a strange texture. It was riddled with holes, and some were filled with glowstones.

It tugged at his conscientiousness like something familiar he should remember. Then, like waking from a dream, he chuckled. The rough texture was a picture cut into the soft stone. It was worn and faded and the glowstones distracted from the image, but his eyes scanned over the picture picking out details. It gradually came into focus. The holes made it look moth eaten, but the scene was the same one Mirta had used for her tapestry.

He turned to look at the rest of the room and stopped in amazement. There on the other wall hung Mirta's tapestry. It was finished and glittering with glowstone chips. He stared with mouth open. Hadn't it dissolved with the Salamander? How did it get here?

UNDER THE GATE

"Beautiful, isn't it? Mirta really is quite the artist."

Electrum gasped and spun around expecting to see Sterling and Tanner.

Simon stood smiling at him. "What do you think of our room?"

"Our room?"

"The gatekeepers. You probably figured out that we're under the gate."

"But Sterling...."

"We're quite safe here from Sterling."

"No, no. We must be quiet. Sterling followed me through the trap door in the library."

Simon looked sad. "It is regrettable that he has at last discovered the trapdoor, though we knew it was only a matter of time."

"You don't understand. He'll be here at any moment and will see all this."

Simon smiled. "Don't underestimate the gatekeepers. The door to this tunnel is shielded. He will only see the barred door that leads to the yard."

"The door is not obvious, but it is a weak disguise at best."

"Only a pookah with the gift of thought dust has the ability to see through the shield. Other pookahs might be curious, but it wouldn't be obvious to them. Certainly a sprite with Sterling's nature would never discover it. Our secrets are safe for the moment."

Electrum's mind was filled with questions and he didn't know where to begin. Finally he asked, "How many doors are there?"

"Three. The one in the library. The one leading to the storage yard. And the one at the end of this tunnel. It leads to a path where we can adjust the glowstones placed over the top of the gate."

"Are these the glowstones you told me about? The ones that control the gate?"

Simon nodded and pointed to Mirta's tapestry. "It tells us where to place the stones. We're in the process of moving them so they match the tapestry."

Electrum looked back and forth between the weaving and the carved wall. Some of the glowstones in the wall matched the colored chips in the tapestry. The gatekeepers key.

"But how did it get here? I thought it had dissolved with the Salamander."

"The Salamander is safe. It's hidden by a boy who actually explored the ship and found the tapestry. I believe you know him as Trevor."

"Trevor! Trevor had the tapestry? But how did it get here?"

"Gilder picked it up last night. Brought it in on the Dragonfly."

Electrum remembered the sprite flying away from the ship and the one who had later tripped over him. "Huh," was all he could manage.

"Thanks to his efforts, the Silver Gate will soon be working at full capacity. Once it is calibrated properly, the cold and much of the mist will be gone. The new key will keep the Silver Gate open for years."

Electrum had an uneasy feeling. "Who all knows about this place?"

"Just the gatekeepers and you."

"What about Silverthorn? I followed him down from the library and saw him escape the guards in the yard. Does he know about all this?"

"The side tunnel that leads here is shielded from him also."

"But...how do you know you can trust me?"

"You come highly recommended."

"By whom?" he asked with surprise.

"Mirta. One of the most perceptive of the Gold Realm gatekeepers. She has a unique view of both worlds. Very little escapes her. Also – you have left enough thought dust lying about to confirm her opinion of you."

"But that's just the reason I will be a threat to the security of the gates. Sterling has already become suspicious by pawing through my thought dust. Your secrets won't be safe now."

"Pookahs have the ability to shield ships, doors, or other things. You simply need to learn how to shield your thoughts."

Electrum laughed ironically. "You think I haven't tried?"

"I hear there might be a solution. I can't vouch for it personally, but I understand there is a technique that might work."

Electrum looked skeptical.

"Just as we have antiquated information stored away on dusty scrolls here, so there are many forgotten manuscripts in the Gold Realm. Gilder has taken quite an interest in their writings. Unfortunately his time of traveling will soon be cut short, so he has been trying to make the most of his research before his wings begin to change."

Electrum remembered the gold scroll in Silverthorn's room.

"He has come across some references to thought shielding. Even after you learn how to shield your thoughts, however, we insist that you not speak of these things outside these chambers. Silverthorn does not know that you are aware of these tunnels. It would be best if you do not tell him. Come. I will give you a tour of our gate and show you the scroll."

THOUGHTS IN A JAR

Silverthorn paced along the tree limb. A net bag suspended from the branch jiggled and bobbed with his movements. "Do you think he's going to be late again?" He stopped and squinted at the ground far below. "Surely he won't stand us up completely."

"Relax," Electrum said. "And stop pacing. You're jarring the branch and giving me a headache."

Electrum was having difficulty concentrating after all he had learned that afternoon about the gatekeepers. He checked the net bag again. Nestled inside were the three jars containing his prepared thought dust.

Leaves rustled on the ground and Brownie burst into the clearing. He crouched. His tail switched through the air with sharp jabs.

Trevor clung to his back twisting to keep his seat. "Must you bounce around like that?" He jumped off and landed in the dry leaves. Brushing himself off he called, "Anyone here?"

Silverthorn landed in front of the boy with a spray of silver dust.

Trevor covered his face and said through his fingers, "Careful with the sparkles. I have enough problems without any more enchantment."

Silverthorn waved his hand scattering the sparkles. "It's nothing to get concerned about. It's just sprite dust. Let's get down to business. We have lots to cover."

Electrum landed softly next to him, the net bag over his shoulder. He set it on the ground. "Tomorrow night is the eclipse. It starts right after sundown."

"Is that the dust?" Trevor asked pointing.

Electrum nodded and rubbed his hands together. "There are three jars. They are delicate. Made from dried leaves and sealed with resin." He added sternly, "Any impact will shatter them."

Trevor looked nervous.

"You can carry them in the bag, just be careful with it."

"Oh, I have a bag," Trevor said. He shrugged his arms out of the bag that Amber had given him and set it on the ground.

"That looks like a bag from Mirta's shop." Silverthorn flipped the lid back and looked stunned. "That's Amber's mark. Where did you get this bag?"

Trevor looked confused and his face paled. "She gave it to me," he said.

"When – when did you meet Amber?" Silverthorn stuttered.

"She came to see me a couple times."

"But why would she come to see you?" Silverthorn asked.

"She was worried about the plan. She wanted to be sure you had covered everything..." his voice trailed off.

"She just came to check up on us." Electrum chuckled.

"She also told me about the ship," Trevor said. Then he added quickly, "I didn't know it was a ship when I took it out of the water." He glanced nervously at them. "I didn't believe her at first. Then I went on board and nearly got eaten by a spider." He shivered.

"That was the night we waited for you and you didn't show up," Silverthorn said.

Trevor blushed and shrugged. "I was busy."

"Was that when you found the tapestry?" Electrum asked. Silverthorn looked surprised and Electrum hurriedly said, "I mean, did you find a tapestry?"

Trevor nodded. "It was in an open crate. I took it off the ship. When Amber saw it, she said it was very important. She sent Gilder to pick it up last night."

"Gilder!" Silverthorn stared at him.

"Where's the ship now?" Electrum asked.

"Under my bed. Amber said to keep it out of the light."

Electrum laughed. "The Salamander is under your bed? Ragnar is sailing on the rattletrap Dragonfly and his ship is under your bed."

"I plan to bring it back to the water, but I can hardly do that when I'm just a few inches tall."

Everyone seems to have something to gain in this venture, Electrum thought. Silverthorn, Amber, Trevor, Ragnar. Everyone but me. I'm going to lose no matter how it turns out.

He took a deep breath. "It's getting late. Let's get on with the plan." He opened the net and pulled out a jar made from yellow leaves. "This one is for the yellow cat. It will make him think Brownie and you are fierce and dangerous."

He picked up one made with red leaves. "This is for the little yipper. Hopefully it will make him want to find a delicious bone that he buried."

"Hopefully?" Trevor said.

"I did the best I could. It's hard to imagine enjoying a bone." The last jar was green. "For Mrs. Hayworth," he said. "It will give her visions of sweet rest in a comfortable hammock."

"I think she sleeps in a bed."

Electrum looked surprised. "A bed? Well, I concentrated mostly on being tired and sleeping. She probably won't notice."

Trevor slipped the jars into separate pockets of Amber's bag.

"Get to the garden before you shrink so you can pick the changeling plant. Then meet us under the footbridge. You must be there before the eclipse starts. Do you understand?"

Trevor nodded.

"We're counting on you," Silverthorn said.

"I'm counting on me too. You promise you will unenchant me?" He looked pleadingly at Electrum.

"I will do everything I can to break the enchantment. I'm confident it will work."

SCATTERED MEMORIES

August 29/30

It was late when they got back to the palace, but sprites still bustled through the narrow halls. Electrum didn't want to talk to anyone. He excused himself as he elbowed past couples and deftly dodged out of the way of those still busy with their duties. After several offended huffs, he finally escaped into his room.

The moon hung in the sky like a bright glowstone. Light trickled through the branches casting an eerie glow on the floor. After hanging the flask in the window, he eased into the hammock. With a sigh he pulled up his blanket. The familiar babble of voices and laughter passing in the hall was soothing.

Memories flowed through his head like a story on a long scroll. They mixed with thoughts of the Salamander and the apartment in the Gold Realm. My last night in this room, he thought. My last night in the Silver Realm.

Gradually the noises in the hall ceased as everyone went to bed. Electrum's breathing became more regular. Hours later heavy footsteps passing his door woke him. They continued a short way and stopped. Rising up on one elbow he heard low voices. They quickly faded, leaving him feeling alone and detached from his surroundings. The room filled him with nostalgia. It was time to leave.

He unhooked the hammock and rolled it with the blanket into a tight ball and stuffed it into Amber's bag. On top he lay the instruction scroll that he had borrowed from the library and Gilder's scroll from the Gold Realm.

He took down the flask from the window. The dust swirled around inside as if stirred by an unfelt breeze. He pulled the cord over his head and slipped the flask under his shirt.

Dust sparkled on his hat when he picked it up. A lifetime of memories and an empty room. With a flick of his hand the dust swirled off the hat into the air. It settled like morning frost on a sandy beach and slipped into the cracks on the floor. Whoever occupied this room after him would be haunted by his thoughts.

He tossed the bag over his shoulder. When he shrugged, it settled snugly between his wings. For a moment he stared at the crumpled gray robe. It hung on the branch like a wilted flower. All the hours of wearing it flashed through his mind. The scornful looks he received from the guards. The hot, uncomfortable hours spent in the king's room. Admiration from the pollywogs and glances of respect from the palace sprites as he passed through the halls.

He took it down. With an air of ceremony he folded it into a tight roll and tucked it under his arm. He stepped out into the empty hall. Faint voices came from the library. Probably Simon and Gilder. He decided to stop and say goodbye.

As he neared the door, the voice became harsh. He slowed his steps. It wasn't Simon's voice. It was Tanner.

"Not that Captain Sterling actually believes there is any truth to the old fables," Tanner said. "It is nonsense to think a plant could change a silver sprite to gold. A plant that doesn't even exist. Foolishness."

There was a soft chuckling and some low murmured words.

The floor creaked as someone moved across the room. "Still, it doesn't hurt to be cautious. You have taken precautions? Nothing can go wrong?"

The other person mumbled assent.

"Good. Sterling can be most generous to those who are loyal, but he is a powerful opponent to those who betray the realm. We will see you at Eclipse Night. Be sure you play your part well."

Electrum fled up the hall and rounded the corner. Someone was coming. He squeezed into a dark alcove and crushed the robe against his chest.

The pack pressed against his wings. Tanner's large form came around the corner. Electrum could have reached out and tugged on his cloak.

He waited several minutes after Tanner had passed before he stepped out from the alcove. He made little noise as he passed like a shadow through the halls. Soon he was standing on the top platform taking deep breaths of the cool night air.

Moonlight glinted on the Ship Growers Pond in the distance. He couldn't see it, but he knew his tree was just beyond that.

Stepping off the platform he spread his wings. Darkness and the cool night air closed around him. Warmth from the flask spread over him as if he had swallowed warm dandelion tea.

Silently he flew over the harbor. Ships tied to the docks bobbed gently in the calm water. Leftover smells from the day's market made him wish he had brought something for a late dinner.

He circled and landed on the dock next to a long line of carts. With a smile he saw what he was looking for. At the end of the row sat the rag bin. Gently he placed the robe inside among the other rags.

Quickly he rose into the air and headed for the Ship Growers Pond. Shapes loomed out of the darkness and several times he swerved at the last minute to avoid hitting a tree. He'd forgotten how tricky it was to fly at night.

Following the pine smell, he squinted and tried to pick out the top of the ridge. Suddenly his tree came into view, a darker outline against a dark sky. He landed on the platform.

There was just enough moonlight to see the outline of furniture. Weariness settled over him like a heavy garment. He felt old and tired as he made his way to the sleeping room and dropped his travel bag on the floor.

The warmth faded as he hung the flask from a branch where it would be shielded from the morning sun. Shivering, he pulled out the hammock and hung it on built in hooks.

Somehow Sterling knew about their plan and was working to stop them. But who was the other sprite – or pookah – in the library? Who would be helping Sterling?

He would have to figure it out tomorrow. He crawled in the hammock and wrapped his blanket around him. What he needed now was rest.

Warm sunlight and the scent of pine woke him from pleasant dreams. He stretched. The tree looked even nicer in the daylight. It would be a great place to retire. Waking every morning to the faint sound of the ship growers working in the valley below. Eating breakfast with the sun reflecting off the harbor in the distance.

He shook off his blanket and the appealing thoughts. This was his last day in the Silver Realm. No time for daydreaming. There was plenty to get done.

He needed equipment for tonight; gloves, bowls, jars, a spoon. All could be found at the harbor. But first breakfast. He emptied his bag of all but the scrolls, grabbed his hat, and set out.

The air was beautiful for flying. The sun had been up for several hours and the morning fog had burned away. The harbor was empty. All but a few of the ships were still docked. No running shipments today. They would be taking paying passengers to the Tween World this evening for the eclipse.

He landed and pushed his way through the crowd. Calls from vendors mingled with the sweet and pungent smells from their carts.

"Hot pastries!"

"Fresh mushrooms! Steamed or raw!"

"Trinkets from the Tween World."

"Glowstone bracelets."

"Buttons and ribbons."

He stepped around a cart and a gleam of light hit his face. With eyes squeezed to a slit, he caught the flash of sunlight on metal. Sterling was walking toward him but his attention was focused behind at Tanner.

Electrum ducked around a booth and headed up a narrow aisle away from the carts and shops. Soon he was in the pavilion district where structures of various sizes filled the space in no apparent order. Some had walls, but most were just poles holding up a roof covering of canvas, interlaced branches, or solid wood.

He scanned the structures to get his bearings and spotted the perfect place to avoid Sterling's discovery. Tucked in a corner away from the others stood an open structure. The pollywog hangout. Its weathered poles supported a thick, moss-covered roof. Tiny silver and gold banners fluttered from the ceiling, stirring memories.

Carvings covered the poles where pollywogs had left their initials and sometimes their artwork to mark their passage. His own initials were mixed somewhere in the jumble on one of the back poles.

He paused under the swinging signboard that read The Pollywogger's Pastries. Neither Sterling nor Tanner would set foot inside.

Heat and aroma from the fire pit in the back drew him inside. He picked out several pastries and a hot tea and headed for an old, heavy table on the side. Initials once pitted its surface. Now most of them were barely visible, worn down by the passing of many hands across its surface.

He slid onto the bench. Taking his time, he ate the hot roll. It tasted just as he remembered. Opening the silver library scroll, he began to read as he nibbled on a second roll.

He had just gotten to the part about unenchanting Trevor when a shadow fell over the page. His shoulder muscles tightened.

He looked up and smiled with relief. "Silverthorn. What a pleasure to see you."

"Well, that's good news. I thought you might be avoiding me. I've been looking everywhere for you. Your room is vacant as if you were never there."

"I left some memories behind."

Silverthorn gave him a half smile and sat down. "Sterling has been asking about you."

"Has he? He is a curious fellow. After tonight he will have all his answers, and I don't suppose he will like them."

Silverthorn leaned over the table and looked at the scroll. "Did we miss anything? Are you expecting any problems?"

"Just double checking everything."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Almost. I'll pick up some equipment before I leave the market. Did you send everything ahead that you think you'll need? There's no second chances you know."

"Everything I need is in that chest I sent."

"Only one chest? You're taking this idea of becoming a commoner rather seriously."

Silverthorn laughed. "It will be more than enough."

"Okay. I hope you know what you're doing. Does Gilder have the box of gold dust from Amber?"

Silverthorn nodded. "He's flying over with us tonight. Where are we meeting?"

"Top platform of the palace. Be there before sundown. But be careful and don't let anyone follow you. I overheard Tanner talking to someone last evening. He knows we're planning something, and that means Sterling knows. Whomever he was talking to has a plan to stop us."

Silverthorn's jaw tightened. "I'll be careful. This has to work." He started to leave then turned back. "If anything does go wrong tonight and I don't make it to the Gold Realm, the chest and everything in it is yours."

Electrum grimaced. "Thanks. At least I'll have something to remember you by." Then he smiled. "Stop worrying. Go find Gilder. Stay out of sight and out of trouble. I wouldn't be going through with this if I didn't believe it would work."

He watched Silverthorn stride out of the shop. He would have made a strong king. With a sigh he turned back to the scroll.

TIGHT SCHEDULE

Trevor picked up Amber's bag with the jars of thought dust safely nestled in the compartments. He tucked it into a leg pocket on his camouflage pants and slipped on the dark green T-shirt his class had been given. Somehow he would have to get away from school star night. He hoped Brownie remembered their plans.

"Ready?" his father said poking his head into Trevor's room.

Trevor nodded and followed his dad down the stairs.

"You're going to have a great time," his dad said. "Don't forget to look for the footprints and the flag in the Sea of Tranquility."

"Dad..."

"Just kidding. But check out the craters and..."

"There's the bus, dear," his mother interrupted.

He squirmed out of her quick hug. "Gotta go, Mom." He hurried out the door as the bus squealed to a stop and the doors swung open.

"Twilight Express," the bus driver announced. "Sign in next to your name." He pointed to a clipboard.

While he was signing, Brandon called from the back of the bus. He bumped and jostled past the crowded seats and slid into place between Brandon and Archie.

Brandon leaned against him and whispered, "We have a key to the old observatory."

Trevor put his hand over his pocket to shield the jars. "The one in the tower?" Several kids turned around to look at them.

"Keep it down," Archie whispered.

Brandon leaned forward. "We can slip away while they're setting up the telescopes on the lawn and check out the real observatory."

"Why that ancient thing? Why not just use the ones they set up outside?" Trevor said.

"The observatory is a piece of history," Brandon said. "It's huge. My uncle claims you can almost step onto the surface of the moon it's so clear."

"If it hasn't crumbled to dust," Archie muttered.

"Are you in?"

Trevor nodded hesitantly. That would get him out of the crowd, but it would be harder to get away from Brandon and Archie.

"We split up. Meet behind the building. There's a window that's always left open a crack."

The bus rolled to a stop in front of the school. Teenagers had been recruited to keep order, and they formed a wall between the bus and the fence surrounding the schoolyard. The kids poured out of the buses and swarmed onto the field. Telescopes were setup around the track. Colored flags, blue, yellow, purple, marked each station. He looked for the green that matched his T-shirt. Their group was half way around. Mr. Willis, the teacher, was adjusting the telescope.

"This is great," Brandon said. "We can hang out in the back of the group and slip around the modulars. From there it will be easy to get to the back of the building."

They worked their way through the mass of green shirts. Trevor dodged the other kids while trying to protect the pocket where the fragile jars were hidden.

"Trevor!" Mr. Willis called. "You have some experience with telescopes. Why don't you show us how to line up the spotter scope?"

"Meet you there," Archie whispered and slipped away to the back of the group where Brandon was waiting.

Trevor trudged to the telescope.

"Tonight we will be looking at a lunar eclipse, which is perfectly safe to observe," Mr. Willis was saying. "Who can tell me what kind of eclipse is dangerous?"

A kid in the front row muttered in a bored tone, "solar eclipse."

"Yes!" Mr. Willis said with a big grin. "We should never stare at the sun." There were groans from the kids at this obvious statement.

"Looking at a solar eclipse can damage your eyes permanently since you are staring at the sun with the moon passing in front of it."

A cynical chorus of "Oh!" went up from the back.

Mr. Willis continued unfazed. "The lunar eclipse is when the earth passes between the sun and the moon. That means we are only looking at the moon, which is perfectly safe."

Loud cheers when up.

Encouraged, his lecture dragged on.

Trevor looked at his watch. Brownie would be waiting for him. The sun was low in the sky. It wouldn't do to shrink out here in front of everyone. He might never get to the woods and then he'd miss getting unenchanted. He felt his face getting hot as panic set in.

"Mr. Willis," he interrupted the lecture. "I have to go."

The teacher stopped talking and silence fell over the group as he turned to scowl at him.

"I - I'm not feeling well," Trevor said.

"Portable bathrooms are behind the building," Mr. Wills said. I expect you back here in five minutes." He turned back to the group and continued his lecture. Trevor ran.

As he rounded the corner of the school he scanned the area for the boys. They must have already gone inside. He vaulted over the fence and raced toward Mrs. Hayworth's house.

FLIGHT TO THE GATE

The Ship Growers Pond rippled in the evening sunlight. Electrum stood in his pine tree and gazed over the pond to the harbor. Tiny figures filled the docks and the skies around the ships. Older passengers were preparing to board while the younger sprites flew around them, eager to get to the Tween World for the Eclipse.

Beyond the harbor, the top of the Palace Tree waved gently in the breeze as if beckoning him home. Were Silverthorn and Gilder waiting? He couldn't tell from this distance.

He turned away and wandered through the tree. His tree. It would have made a nice home.

He packed the scrolls in the bottom of Amber's bag, then added the bowls and jars he had purchased at the market. The bag was heavier than he expected.

There wasn't room for the hammock or his blanket. It was comforting to think of it waiting for him, though he doubted he could ever return.

He slipped the flask under his shirt, took one last deep breath of pine scented air, and glided off the platform. A gentle breeze tugged at his hat and he clamped down his ears to hold it in place. The heavy bag weighed him down and pressed against his wings.

When he reached the harbor he caught an updraft and was able to glide on it. As he neared the palace he flapped his wings again to gain altitude.

Two sprites watched from the top platform's edge. His landing was awkward. He stumbled, and there was a rattling noise as Silverthorn and Gilder caught his arms and steadied him.

"I hope that rattling wasn't your bones breaking," Silverthorn said.

"Very amusing." Electrum shook off the sprites and handed the bag to Gilder. "Bowls and jars for tonight. Make sure everything is in one piece."

Silverthorn stood at the edge looking out while Gilder searched through the bag. "Everything is here," he finally announced. He added a small parcel and closed the bag. Effortlessly, he swung it onto his back. "I'll carry this for you."

Electrum grunted. "Suits me."

Silverthorn looked over his wing. "Are we about ready?"

"What's the rush?" Electrum said. The reality of leaving had settled in and he was feeling nostalgic. "Take a moment to enjoy your last night here."

Silverthorn paced around the platform and stopped to peer over the edge. "I'd like to share this moment of contemplation with you, but there's a group of sprites coming up the main corridor. Large sprites. What's left of the sunlight is flashing off their breastplates."

Electrum shuffled over and looked down. The nostalgia disappeared. "Right you are." He headed for the other side. "The windows on that corridor open the other direction. If we fly off the back edge, we'll be out of sight. With luck we'll make it to the harbor before they get here."

They jumped into the air, their wings flashing. No riding the air currents this time. Electrum had to work to keep up with the two young sprites. He began to lag behind. They were nearing the harbor when Silverthorn glanced back. He called to Gilder and they hovered as Electrum caught up.

"I can't beat my wings all the way," he panted. "Give an old pookah a chance to catch his breath."

"Follow me," Gilder said. He headed into a patch of mist on the side of the gate. "Over here," he called softly.

Electrum followed his voice and landed beside the two sprites on a ledge hidden by a half wall. He slumped onto a protruding rock. Mist swirled around them. Cold crept through his jacket, but the flask kept him warm.

Silverthorn and Gilder stood behind the wall watching the gate. Electrum knew he couldn't sit there very long. The chill would make his wings stiff. He was just about to get up when the two sprites ducked down behind the wall.

"What is it?" Electrum asked in a low voice.

"Guards flying through the gate. At least half a dozen," Gilder said.

"Sorry boys. I was too slow."

"They haven't caught us yet," Silverthorn said with a grin. Now they're in front of us. Should be no problem to slip in behind and get to the bridge. Whenever you're ready."

As they flew through the gate, Electrum was surprised at how thin the mist had become. Bits of the wall showed through and the air was warmer. Simon must have been busy setting the new glowstones in place.

When they emerged from the gate, Electrum scanned the bushes. No guards in sight. Silverthorn led the way into the trees, staying in the shadows. The light was already growing dim under the heavy foliage. They landed under the footbridge.

Electrum gazed at the water as it gurgled over the rocks and debris. He pulled his jacket tighter around him. It was even chillier and damper under the bridge than it had been flying through the gate.

"This looks like a good place," Gilder called softly. He was standing in front of a tangle of tree roots. They poked out of the ground and interlaced forming a flat surface that could be used as a rough table.

Gilder started pulling items out of Electrum's bag and placing them on the roots. From his own parcel he took out the intricate box, then set the parcel aside.

Silverthorn caressed the box with his finger. He opened the lid revealing a mound of fine powdery dust. It twinkled in the dim light and gold sparkles clung around the edges.

"Don't get all star struck on me," Electrum said as he reached past him and shut the lid. "This is no time for sentiment. One gentle breeze and your plans will be scattered in the air along with that dust."

Silverthorn laughed. "She'll be here soon. This time we stay together forever."

Electrum gave him a weary nod, and reluctantly placed the warm flask of pookah dust on the makeshift table. He arranged the items next to it. Gloves, two earthenware bowls, and a wooden spoon. From his belt he pulled out his dagger and placed it next to the flask. Lastly, he put out two leaf jars.

"The yellow jar for Silverthorn and the red jar for the boy. Mirta and Amber will be here soon. Then we just wait for Trevor to bring the changeling plant."

ILLUSIONS IN THE GARDEN

Once the school was out of sight, Trevor slowed his steps. His breath came in ragged gasps. Nerves, he thought. I have to calm down. He forced himself to walk slower and take deep breaths. He placed Amber's bag in his T-shirt pocket.

The tips of the leaf jars for the dog and Mrs. Hayworth poked out of the bag's side pockets. He pulled out the yellow jar, the one for the cat. Its resin seal had a faint crack leaving a thin trail of sparkles down the side. With dismay he saw sparkles on his fingers. Afraid of the powder, but also afraid more would leak out if he put it back in the bag, he gritted his teeth and decided to carry the jar.

He stopped under a tree across the street where he could see the garden. No sign of anyone, but he had a vague sense of something large lurking in the dark and coming closer. He caught glimpses of a shadow passing under cars and slipping into bushes. A faint mew filled him with relief. Brownie joined him as they had planned.

The cat rubbed up against his leg and mewed softly. Trevor followed his gaze to a fuzzy yellow ball under a bush at the far side of the garden. Max. He scratched Brownie's ears.

"I see him, but there's no one else out. Maybe he won't wake up if we're quiet. We can follow the sidewalk up to the porch. Then just a few stepping stones to the catnip?"

Brownie mewed.

"Just in case, I have the cat dust ready." He cradled it in his fist. "We don't have much time before I shrink. Let's go."

Any sound from his shoes was drowned out by a mocking bird. It sat on the fence and sang its repertoire of other bird songs. As they approached, it spotted Brownie and began scolding. Trevor waved his arms and it flew to the top of a large tree where it continued its imitations.

The latch grated on the stone when he opened the gate. Trevor froze and looked at the house. The curtains rippled against the kitchen window, but it was only from the evening breeze. They slipped inside and made their way up to the porch. The breeze stirred the bushes and made shadows dance around the garden. Brownie jumped and chased a leaf across the porch.

"What are you doing? Brownie!" Trevor's voice came out in a harsh whisper. He hurried forward. Just as his foot touched the bottom step, a figure loomed in the doorway. Trevor gasped and his foot missed the step. He fell forward and threw out his hand to catch himself. His hand scraped the iron railing and the leaf jar flew out of his hand. It landed with a tiny snap and rolled across the porch.

The door began to stretch taller. His shirt pocket ripped as the backpack swelled up in front of his face. He pawed if out of his way. As it swung to the side he saw the cement step rising up over his head. Fear swept through him as he realized he was shrinking and was stranded on the bottom step.

A dark form dashed toward him from across the yard. The animal grabbed the bag in its mouth and Trevor screamed. His arm tangled in the strap and he was jerked into the air. With feet swinging wildly he clung to the bag. He was carried up a small knoll and dropped on a pile of mulch chips under an evergreen bush.

Frantically he tried to scramble to his feet. He yelled again as he saw a furry face looking down at him with big teeth.

"Quiet Trevor," Brownie said. "It's just me."

With heart thumping he threw his arms around the cat's leg. Brownie wrapped his tail around him. "We should be safe here for the moment."

He brushed the dirt off his shirt and wiped his hands on his pants.

"We have a good view of things from here," Brownie said.

Trevor climbed out on a branch. Through the leaves he could see the porch. Mrs. Hayworth stood looking out over the garden with her hands on her hips. Something glittered next to her foot. He squinted. It was the broken jar. The one meant for Max.

Maybe she would go back in the house and somehow he could get it back. There might be enough left, if she would just go back in the house. This hope disappeared when she looked down. She stooped and picked up the leaf jar. It crumbled in her hand and a shiny mix drifted through her fingers.

He turned back to Brownie. "That was supposed to be for the cat."

Brownie poked his head out of the bush and looked across the yard.

Mrs. Hayworth gave a small squeal and cried, "A bobcat!" Then she rushed inside and slammed the door.

Brownie pulled his head back in. "She has me confused with Bob. We look alike you know. Big Yellow is gone."

"Let's get the catnip and get out before he comes back," Trevor said.

"Climb on," Brownie said. As they started across the garden they could hear Mrs. Hayworth's voice rising in volume. Something was upsetting her. He hoped she wouldn't come out with a broom or something worse.

Brownie stopped in front of a patch of plants. A few were crushed where something large had been lying on them. Stems drooped on the ground with unbroken leaves.

Brownie rubbed his face on the leaves and breathed deeply. "This is it," he said. He started to lie down.

"Get up, Brownie. You'll be no good at all if you roll in this stuff."

Brownie snorted and stood up. "Get some extra for me," he said.

Trevor dropped the bag and dug through it for the knife. Picking an undamaged leaf he started sawing at it. By the time he cut through the stem, his arms were aching. Panting, he picked it up and looked for the bag. Brownie was munching on a leaf with his eyes half closed.

Trevor stabbed the knife into a nearby stem and shouted, "What are you doing?"

Several leaves had been chewed in half and lay at the cat's feet. Brownie swallowed and scratched his ear. "No need to yell. This is supposed to be a secret mission."

Trevor rolled up his leaf and shoved it into the bag. "Stop eating that stuff." He snatched the broken leaves away from Brownie and stuffed them in the bag. This would have been so much easier if he hadn't shrunk.

Halfway through cutting another stem, he heard sirens in the distance. A low growl made him stop. The sirens were getting closer. Afraid to look and afraid not to, he slowly stood up and turned.

Rex, the Pekinese, was sitting on the steps sniffing the air. Trevor tugged on the leaf. The oil from it coated his hands making them slippery. He gave it a last jerk and the leaf tore. Grabbing the bag, he stuffed it inside and climbed onto Brownie.

Loud barking erupted as Rex spotted them. Growling and snapping he jumped off the porch and tore across the yard.

Through the kitchen window he heard Mrs. Hayworth yelling.

"I tell you there's a sabertooth tiger and a caveman in my yard. They are threatening my poor little dog!"

What about poor little me, Trevor thought. He dug his fingers into Brownie's fur. Rex charged and Brownie leaped into the air. The dog passed underneath with jaws snapping.

Mrs. Hayworth was now on the back porch with a broom in one hand and a cell phone in the other. "Yes, a sabertooth tiger," she yelled into the phone. "A sabertooth tiger and a caveman."

Brownie dashed up an ornamental tree and out along a branch. Barely supporting them, the limb swayed and dipped dangerously close to the snapping teeth as the dog leaped in the air. Fur came away in Trevor's hand, and he felt himself slipping. Digging his fingers deeper into Brownie's coat, he managed to pull himself back.

"Try the dust," Brownie yowled as he slipped and dug his claws into the wood.

With each dip of the branch, they came closer to the snapping teeth. Trevor fumbled at the bag and finally pulled out another jar. As the branch dipped and Rex jumped, the snapping teeth came within inches.

"Me-now!" Brownie howled.

Trevor threw. As it left his hand he saw it was green. Wrong again. That was the jar for Mrs. Hayworth. The jaws snapped. Rex's teeth clamped down on the jar and he shook his head. The jar burst and sparkles scattered over his tongue and nose making him sneeze and cough. Whining, he rubbed both paws over his nose and sneezed some more. Then his eyes closed and he rolled over.

"They killed Rexie!" Mrs. Hayworth screamed. "The caveman threw something at my dog and killed him." The whine of sirens stopped in front of the house and red and blue lights swept over the yard in wide arcs.

"Now's our chance," Trevor said.

Brownie jumped down from the tree. Trevor bumped his nose on the cat's neck when they landed. His head was spinning and his eyes watered. They were moving toward the gate when Brownie stopped suddenly and growled.

Trevor peered around the cat's neck and his fingers tightened. Max rose up in front of the gate and stretched. He pulled back his lips in a hiss showing sharp teeth. The yellow fur stood out from his body, and his tail twitched in rapid jerks.

Trevor could feel Brownie's muscles tense beneath him. He reached for the last jar. The one meant for the dog. It was supposed to suggest digging for bones. What effect, if any, would it have on a cat?

Brownie sat back on his haunches. Max lay back his ears. A low menacing growl came from the yellow throat like a rumbling volcano. Trevor leaned sideways. The jar felt light. He drew his hand back. There would be only one chance and he dare not miss.

As the yellow madness charged, he threw the jar as hard as he could straight at the cat's face. A massive paw came up and swatted it aside like a bothersome fly.

It burst. The dust exploded into the air, showering the cat with sparkles that settled on his face and lodged in his fur. A breeze caught some of the dust and blew it back in their direction. Brownie sneezed and rubbed his nose.

Max shook his head sending more sparkles into the air. His eyes narrowed as he sat back and looked at Brownie. He took a step forward, then growled and sat down. One paw scratched in the dirt. He sneezed again.

Trevor tugged on Brownie's fur. Car doors slammed and the sound of heavy boots came from the house. A second police car pulled up on the side street, blocking the gate.

Brownie took a few steps away and bounded onto the wall. He crawled under a hanging vine and they peered out.

Max was digging a hole next to the Pekinese. Mrs. Hayworth shook the policeman's arm and pointed. "There's another mountain lion. It's going to bury my dog."

The hole was quite deep, but Max had moved on. He was now digging in the primroses. Rexie rolled over and slowly tumbled into the hole where he lay on his back with feet in the air. Loud snores came from his puckered little nose.

Mrs. Hayworth swooned and the policeman staggered as he lowered her into a lawn chair.

The gate opened, and the other police officers came through waving flashlights and looking under bushes and in the tree.

"Come on Brownie," Trevor said. "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't I help find the bone?"

"Forget the bone. We have to get to the woods."

"Okay," Brownie said reluctantly. "But a nice juicy bone would go down really nice right now."

Max had moved on to the catnip. He made a few half-hearted scratches in the dirt, then stretched out on the plants. Lazily he swiped at the leaves and licked his paw.

Brownie jumped off the fence and they slipped between the police car and fire truck and headed down the street.

THROUGH THE UNDERWORLD

The police lights faded into the distance as Brownie trotted up the street. Trevor's hands were coated with sap and his fingers stuck in the cat's fur.

A full moon hung just above the horizon in a darkening sky. The eclipse would be starting soon. They passed silently from one shadow to another.

Music came from an ice cream truck as it passed. The simple nursery tune was pleasant after the blaring sirens. A jingling noise mixed with the music making it sound slightly off key.

The truck turned the corner, and its music faded. The jingling continued, and now he could hear a click, click, click. Brownie's steps slowed. Trevor almost lost his seat when the cat spun around. The noise stopped, but chills went down Trevor's back.

Half a block away Caesar stood watching them. A broken chain hung from his collar and jingled on the sidewalk when he moved his head. His nails clicked on the cement as he paced toward them.

Brownie hissed. Then turned and ran. Trevor leaned forward digging his hands and knees into the fur. The rattling chain bounced on the cement in a faster rhythm. Trevor trembled, expecting to feel hot breath right before he was eaten.

An ambulance rounded the corner. Its red lights threw disorienting splashes of color across the dark pavement. In the flashes of light Trevor could see the dog behind them. First the body, then just the eyes, then the body, then the glowing eyes. Each time it was closer.

Brownie dashed into the street. Trevor's scream was downed out by the blaring ambulance horn. The smell of diesel made Trevor's eyes water as they streaked past the huge tires. The brakes squealed and the driver shouted as the ambulance passed between them and the dog.

Trevor looked forward and saw they were heading for the storm drain's dark opening.

"No!" he shouted.

But Brownie squirmed through the opening. Trevor caught a last glimpse of the dog's red eyes before they fell. They landed with a thump at the bottom. Brownie panted, his breath coming in noisy gasps. It was damp with the smell of rotting vegetation.

"I'll get down and walk," Trevor said. "That will make it easier for you."

A snuffling noise reverberated through the tunnel and a pointed snout pushed through the opening. Red eyes glared down and the lips pulled back over fangs dripping with saliva.

Brownie hissed and ran a few feet farther into the tunnel. He lay down in the darkness and they watched the opening.

"What do we do now?" Trevor asked.

"Through the underground," Brownie said. "Bob and I use this passage all the time. It goes all the way to the pumpkin field."

"All underground? What if..." his voice cracked. "What if I get big again when we're down here?"

"We don't have to go all the way. Just far enough to get away from Caesar."

Growling came from around the opening, and the chain jangled. He had to get to the woods to break the enchantment. They couldn't get past Caesar without getting eaten.

His voice trembled as he said, "Okay. Through the tunnel."

Brownie started at a brisk walk with Trevor trotting along beside him. Light came in through periodic overhead grates, but it was dim. Trevor's eyes adjusted and he could make out side tunnels branching off into darkness. Trash, dirt, and old leaves littered the floor.

A sound like running water was getting louder. Trevor whispered, "Is there any way to get higher? That sounds like water coming this way." The idea of swimming in dirty, cold water made his stomach queasy.

"It hasn't rained for days. The tunnels are dry."

"I'm sure that's water," Trevor said. He could feel fear rising.

They rounded a corner. Light from an overhead grate made a checkerboard pattern on the floor. Water poured through the metal grill in a frothy waterfall. It spread out on the floor and ran down a side tunnel.

Brownie sniffed. "Someone washing their car," he said. "Climb on."

The cat's muscles tightened as he leaped into the air. The ceiling rushed toward them and Trevor ducked. The bag on his back scraped on the ceiling sending a dusty powder down the back of his neck. They landed on the other side with a soft thump.

"You almost knocked my head off," Trevor said as he tried to brush dirt out of his hair.

"Sorry. I'm not used to compensating for the extra height. There's an opening just ahead. You can check it out."

Trevor relaxed. They were almost free. Brownie stopped at a narrow slit opening. He placed his front paws on the wall and Trevor scrambled onto the ledge. Lying down he squirmed to the opening and looked out. They were at an intersection. The streetlight blinded him. He blinked and turned the other way. The moon was almost as bright as the light. It was no longer full. There was now a small dark dent in one side. The eclipse had started.

He turned back to call to Brownie when he heard a loud thud and a whoosh. When he looked back the moon was falling toward him. He yelled and covered his head curling up. It hit the ground stirring up dust and echoing the sound through the tunnel. It continued to bounce and the dust made him cough.

It stopped, and there were voices. When he opened his eyes the area was filled with enormous shoes. One foot stepped toward him and he rolled away in terror. His fingers scrabbled at the brick as his legs slid over the edge. Brownie pushed his head underneath him and he grabbed his ears.

"Meow!" Brownie said. "Easy on the ears."

"Sorry," he said as he slid down onto the cat's back.

"We can't go out there," Brownie said. "It's boys with a ball. We'll have to go to the next opening."

Trevor wrapped his arms around the cat's neck. A ball he thought. It wasn't the moon falling. But why was he still small? It was long past twilight. Was he going to be this way forever?

Brownie's padded paws were silent as he picked his way through the maze of tunnels. In the distance they could hear scurrying feet. Trevor shivered wondering what creatures might be lurking in the passages.

They came to a crossway with an overhead grate. Tunnels led in every direction. Glowing eyes winked in and out from several openings.

"Are they spiders?" he whispered. The sound seemed to snake around the room.

"Brownie growled, and his answer was worse than spiders. "Rats," the cat said. "They are blocking the tunnel we want."

Snarling and scratching came from deep in the tunnel. A blood-curling howl started low and built in volume. Rats poured out of the tunnel into the crossway. Brownie shrank back as several ran past him down the passage where they had just been. The rats were grouping when a brown cat with spots burst from the tunnel. His fur was standing out and he towered over the rats. He let out another of the mournful howls and the rats scattered.

He looked at Brownie and let out a series of short little barks, "Mat, mat mat."

"Thanks Bob!" Brownie dashed up the tunnel at full speed. Trevor could see another opening ahead and light seeping in. "Head down," Brownie said as he flattened his body and scooted through the opening. The field lay before them. Brownie bounded through the pumpkins and stopped at the edge of the woods.

"You better stay here, Brownie," Trevor said as he slid off the cat. "There will be lots of sprites in the woods. They don't know you and you'll scare them."

"Okay. I'll stay here and chase moths."

"Uh...that's not a good idea. They could be pookahs. If you eat Electrum I'll never get unenchanted."

"How about fireflies? They're fun to chase."

"Sorry. They could be sprites."

Brownie scratched his ear. "Well, okay. I guess I could take a nap by the pumpkins."

"Great idea. It could be a couple hours."

Brownie strolled off and disappeared around one of the large ones. Trevor adjusted the bag higher on his shoulders and headed into the woods. He could hear laughter and singing. Stopping outside the clearing he peeked in.

It was filled with sprites. Gold and silver wings flashed and sparkled in the moonlight. They sat on mushrooms and perched in the trees. A striped canopy was thrown over a couple of low hanging branches. Underneath were two chairs. A flag waved in the gentle breeze. Pairs of sprites flew through the upper branches, laughing and weaving streamers through the leaves. Everything was silver and gold.

He caught bits of conversation.

"Not like the pollywog days."

"Remember how we used to jump ship to come here?"

"How's the merchant trade?"

"What news in the palace?"

"My son is a pollywog this year."

He was so intent on watching that two sprites were almost to the edge of the clearing before he noticed them. They were taller than the others were. Both had silver wings, bright metal armor, and grim faces. Trevor ducked down into the weeds as they passed.

"No sign of the prince or the Grand Pookah," one muttered.

"They have to be here somewhere. Tanner saw them leaving the palace and Gilder was with them."

"Has he betrayed us?"

"Not if he knows what's good for him."

Trevor shivered. He'd wasted too much time. Sticking to the shadows he raced to the footbridge. The grass tugged at his clothes and tangled his feet. He began to wonder if the ground had been enchanted to prevent him from getting through.

Desperate and exhausted, he shoved ahead. The grass ended, and he stumbled free. The ground sloped down in front of him and he slipped on the loose sand. His feet went out from under him. He landed hard on his seat and began skidding down the slope. He came to an abrupt stop at the bottom. When he opened his eyes a ring of sprites leaned over him.

He started to yell, and one sprite clapped a hand over his mouth. "Shhhh," he said. "We've been waiting for you."

It was Silverthorn.

NIGHT OF THE ECLIPSE

Electrum said, "Let's not all just stand here staring. Help him up."

Silverthorn pulled him to his feet.

"I think you know everyone here," Electrum said. He started around the circle. "Silverthorn, Amber, Gilder, and Mirta. Well I guess you haven't met Mirta."

She smiled. "Amber has told me about you. Thank you for taking care of my tapestry."

Trevor nodded.

Silverthorn said softly, "Were you able to get the changeling plant?"

"Oh, yes." He slipped the bag off his back and held it out. "Here's the catnip."

Silverthorn reached for the bag, but Electrum intercepted it. "I think Gilder and I can handle this part. You go watch for guards."

"What do we do if they come down here?"

"Play tag with them if you need to, just don't get caught. Take Mirta with you and follow her advice."

Silverthorn held out his arm to Mirta with a mischievous grin. "Would you accompany me, my lady?"

Mirta's laugh was light and happy. "My pleasure," she said and placed her hand on his arm.

Silverthorn looked over his shoulder and winked at Amber as he and Mirta headed up the bank. Electrum wished he could go with her and leave the mixing to Silverthorn. "

"What about me?" Trevor asked.

"Stay out of sight. We don't want anyone to see you. They'd be suspicious immediately because you don't have wings."

Electrum carried the bag to the makeshift table. Trevor moved into the shadows and sat down on a tree root where he could watch.

Electrum slipped on the gloves and pulled out the leaves. He sniffed one.

Putting on the other pair of gloves, Gilder whispered, "Is it the right plant?"

Electrum shrugged. "I hope so." He began chopping up the leaves with his dagger.

Gilder gathered up the tiny pieces and placed them in the bowls. He brushed up the extra pieces and dropped them on top of the parcel he had placed under the twisted branches.

"Pookah dust," Electrum said.

"Amber opened the flask and poured the dust into one of the bowls. It flowed out and rose up in a cloud of sparkling particles.

"Put something over it," Electrum snapped.

Amber whipped off her scarf and slapped it over the bowl, but some of the dust was already floating away on the breeze.

Gilder looked at Electrum. "What do we do now?" he asked.

"It should be enough, but just for good measure..." Electrum took off his hat and nodded to Amber. She lifted a corner of the scarf and he poured dust from his hat into the bowl. Putting his hat back on he said, "Let it settle."

He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it on the table. Gilder picked up the box of gold dust.

"Pour slowly," Electrum said. The gold dust flowed into the second bowl and Electrum covered it with the cloth.

It took some tricky maneuvering to get the mixtures into the jars, but finally they were finished. Only a small amount of dust was left on the table.

Electrum took the red jar and walked over to Trevor. "This is for you. When the moon is fully eclipsed, you must be in the clearing and inside the ring of mushrooms. The same place where you were when you first shrank. You'll have a few moments, because all the sprites will be startled to see you. Break the jar above your head."

Trevor took the jar and held in tightly.

"Don't break it now," Electrum said with a smile.

Trevor loosened his grip slightly.

"Once you get big, please be careful leaving the clearing. We don't want you to step on anyone.

"I'll be careful."

Electrum went back to the table. Gilder handed him the other jar. "Amber and I will clean up here if you want to take this to Silverthorn."

He looked at the jar. "What happened? It was yellow when we put the mixture in. It looks brown."

Gilder squinted at it. "I think it's just the light. Maybe the mixture made it darker."

Electrum shrugged. "I hope it's not toxic. Don't leave anything out where it can be discovered.

"What should I do with it?"

Electrum looked regretfully at Amber's bag. It was going to be tricky enough juggling the jars and dealing with anything unexpected. The bag would only slow him down. "Put everything in the river. If the water doesn't destroy it, the light will dissolve it in a few days."

He trudged up the bank and walked onto the bridge. No one was in sight. Something fell into the water and he looked up. Silverthorn and Mirta were sitting in a holly branch dropping berries into the water.

Electrum flew up and landed on the branch. "What are you doing? I thought you were watching for Sterling and his guards."

"We are." He pointed. "You can see everything from up here."

Electrum turned and was surprised to see the clearing a short distance away. It was filled with sprites. Sterling and Tanner paced around the perimeter. It was easy to pick out the other guards who were scattered throughout the crowd.

"I think they're searching for us," Silverthorn said.

"It does look like they're searching for something. That's going to make it tougher." He handed the brown jar to Silverthorn. "You'll need to be in the clearing when the eclipse is full in order for this to work."

"I've been counting their circuits. If I time it right I should be able to slip through and be in the mushroom circle before they are aware."

Electrum looked up at the moon. The eclipse was nearing totality. "I'd say you have maybe ten minutes. I need to get Trevor in place. Once he's big, all chaos will break out. We need to have you changed before he goes in. I'll wait with Trevor and send him in as soon as you change."

"Sounds like a plan." Silverthorn grinned.

Mirta patted his arm. "Don't worry, Electrum. He'll be on time."

Electrum flew back under the bridge and motioned to Trevor. The boy hurried up the bank clutching the jar. "Let's get in place."

Since Trevor couldn't fly, they had to walk to the clearing. It was tough getting through the tall grass and Electrum stumbled more than once. Finally they were in the shadow of a tall oak tree with a clear view.

The moon was almost completely dark. Something flew overhead and Trevor ducked. They heard rustling behind them and Electrum stepped in front of Trevor, his heart pounding. Relief flooded over him when Mirta and Amber stepped out of the grasses. Gilder followed carrying Amber's bag.

Mirta smiled and said softly, "Silverthorn just flew overhead. The party's about to begin."

Electrum motioned to the bag Gilder was carrying. "I thought you were throwing everything in the river."

"I did," Gilder said. "Just moved my personal stuff to this bag. I never had a name brand designer bag before." He tossed it over his shoulder and shrugged it into place. "It's very comfortable and has all these great pockets and special compartments..."

There was a commotion in the clearing and they all turned to look. The sprites had stepped back and Silverthorn stood in the center of the mushroom ring. Sterling was pushing his way through the crowd.

Electrum heard a scuffling next to him. Amber was pulling something out of Gilder's bag. Then she dashed into the crowd. Sterling had left a clear path and she simply followed his wake.

Silverthorn met the guard's eyes and held the brown jar high. A smile crept over his lips and he broke the jar. A hush fell over the crowd as gold dust and bits of leaves showered down, clinging to him. He pulled forward a wingtip and the smile turned to despair.

Trevor tugged on his sleeve. "Why didn't it work? You said it would work!"

Electrum didn't answer. Everything was falling apart. He didn't know what to do.

Sterling laughed as he stepped into the clearing and faced Silverthorn. "That was very entertaining, but you're a little old to believe in fairy tales, aren't you?"

Sterling stumbled forward as someone crashed into his back. Amber jumped to her feet and wiggled around him. She rushed to Silverthorn's side.

Sterling smirked. "The little merchant girl is going to have to go home alone."

Amber smiled at him. "I'll be going home, but not alone."

"It didn't work," Silverthorn said. "It's no use."

"I still believe in fairy tales," she replied. She held up a green jar and broke it. A cloud of silver dust and bits of leaves enveloped them. Amber's wings quivered and began to change to silver.

The crowd gasped. Electrum heard Mirta's soft moan. He slipped his arm around her and she leaned against him.

"Gilder, where did she get that jar?" Electrum asked. But the sprite was gone. He looked back to the clearing. Amber was in Silverthorn's arms. Their silver wings folded together covering them as he leaned down and their lips met. A sigh went up from the crowd.

"Where's Gilder?" Electrum asked.

Mirta pointed. "There."

Gilder stood apart from the couple but still in the mushroom ring.

"Traitor!" shouted Sterling. "You said it wouldn't work."

"It didn't work," Gilder said. "Silverthorn is still silver."

"But you have doomed us to a gold queen."

There were angry murmurs from the gold sprites in the crowd.

The King stepped forward. "Come, come, now. Amber will make a fine princess and someday a fine queen."

"What about me?" Trevor asked. "What do I do?"

Electrum gathered his wits. "Quickly," he said. Grabbing the boy's arm he pulled him forward.

They were at the front of the crowd when Sterling took a step toward Gilder. He snarled in a low voice, "There are laws in our realm. When you return, you will answer for your treason."

"I have no intention of returning. Unless you wish to join me, I suggest you step back." He held up a yellow jar.

Electrum gasped. The jar he had prepared for Silverthorn. He slid to a stop and dragged Trevor the other direction. They almost collided with Sterling who was trying to get out of the way as the jar broke and gold dust and leaf bits poured down. Gilder's wings shimmered and turned gold. Cheers went up from the crowd.

Sterling's face turned bright green. His eyes fell on Trevor and Electrum and he scowled. Pointing a shaking finger at Trevor he said, "You're not a sprite. What monstrosity has this pookah brought into our midst?"

He waved his hand and Tanner and another guard ran across the open space. Electrum gave Trevor a shove. "Into the mushroom circle. Go! Now!"

Trevor stumbled into the circle. He raised the jar. As the guards grabbed his arms the jar broke and the dust and leaves came down. Trevor began to grow. Cries of fear and alarm filled the air as the crowd scattered. Some ran under the trees, while others flew into the branches. Trevor stopped growing and stood with a guard hanging from each elbow. When he reached toward them they let go and flew away.

Stepping carefully, Trevor walked out of the clearing. Before he stepped under the trees he turned and waved to Electrum. "Thank you," he said softly.

The moon began to reappear. Electrum tipped his hat and sparks fell around him. Sprites flew down from the trees and ventured out from the shadows. He spotted Gilder talking to Simon. The old sprite's face was pale, but he stood tall.

Mirta said to Electrum, "Come on." She led the way to Simon and placed her hand on his arm. "You have a new scholar. Teach her well. She will need your guidance."

"Perhaps Gilder will find something in the old scrolls that will unite the worlds," Simon said.

"He will make a fine gatekeeper," she replied.

THE DRAGONFLY

Early September

"Don't trip," Trevor's mother said as she waited by the door.

Trevor came slowly down the stairs. In his arms he carried a bundle covered with a white cloth. His mother held the door and followed him outside.

"Don't be long," his dad called from the side yard. "I'll just get the telescope lined up."

Trevor and his mom headed for the woods with Brownie following them.

"Are you sure you want to put it back in the water?" she said.

"Yes. It doesn't belong to me. You don't mind not taking the pin off?"

She shook her head. "It was a night much like this one," she said softly. "I was only a year or two older than you. That's when I stood on the footbridge and saw the ship coming down the stream. It came in and out of focus. Sometimes looking like a log and other times almost like a ship."

"They have a way of cloaking their ships so we can't recognize them."

"It wasn't working very well that evening. When the branch reached the bridge, I pulled it out. A cloud of sparkles flew up in the air and one little creature hovered in front of my face. He was very angry."

"The captain," Trevor said.

"Yes, well he scolded me quite vehemently. I felt so bad about his ship that I gave him the salamander pin. I drove it into the front of the ship. By then it was quite obviously a ship. Then I put it back in the water and it looked like just a log again. As it floated away, sparkles came from all around and descended on it."

They threaded their way through the pumpkin patch and entered the woods.

"What happened to the ship?" Trevor asked.

"It floated under the roots of that old tree and I never saw it again. My mother was quite annoyed when she found that I didn't have the pin any more. She thought me quite careless to have lost it."

"Didn't you ever come back to try to find them?"

"I wasn't sure who they were. I was afraid what else might be there and I never felt comfortable at twilight after that. As the years passed, I convinced myself that it had just been my imagination. Until I found the ship under your bed."

They reached the footbridge and Trevor set the bundle into the water. The breeze billowed the cloth. Trevor let go and the wind pushed the bundle toward the tree root opening. In a minute it slipped underneath and was gone.

As they watched, something white drifted back toward them. She pulled it out of the water. It was the cloth that had covered the ship. She wrung it out. "It will be safe now," she said.

She put her arm around his shoulder and they walked out of the woods.

Brownie sat on the bridge and watched a log detach from the bank and float toward him. The breeze blew against the log and pushed it along. He twitched one ear and heard soft voices.

"We'll have to catch the Salamander before the current drags it back from the gate," Ragnar said.

"You could just fly over and pilot it out," Electrum said.

"You should be able to steer the Dragonfly right up to her and save me the effort. If you're going to be the captain of this little ship you need to learn her ways."

The ship moved across the water until the breeze caught the branches and it picked up speed. As it reached the bridge, it veered a little close to the posts.

"Straighten it out," Ragnar shouted. "Back to starboard."

Brownie reached down with a paw and pushed it back into the center of the stream.

"I was getting it," Electrum said.

"Don't suppose you have any catnip with you," Brownie asked.

Electrum laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry."

"That's okay. There's a new patch growing under the bridge." He jumped onto the bank and slipped under the bridge. The Dragonfly headed toward the opening under the tree roots.

"You might make a decent captain with some practice. At least it's better than spending all your time in a pine tree."

"I like my pine tree. It's a nice break to get away from the apartment. Gilder is okay company, but he always has his nose in an old scroll. The place is littered with them. He's found some interesting writings about thought dust."

"Well then, what say we check out the basket that Mirta sent," Ragnar said. "I could use some home cooking."

"She sent that basket for Amber. I'm not taking any chances on getting on the wrong side of Mirta just to satisfy your appetite for delicacies. She's been sending over meals on a regular basis and her cooking is much superior to Gilder's."

"With what Silverthorn left you in that trunk of his, you could afford a cook."

Thin mist swirled around them as they entered the gate. They could see the Salamander just ahead of them.

"Mirta and I plan on starting a tidy little business with Silverthorn's dowry. With a merchant princess who will someday be queen, Sterling is mostly just a nuisance now. But it might be convenient to have someone with a little cloaking ability, if you have a mind to be an unseen partner with us."

"A little cloaking ability!" Ragnar said pretending indignation. "Is that how you treat an experienced captain who's teaching you everything you need to know? Pull up alongside the Salamander."

By the time they emerged from the gate, Ragnar had the sails up and was outdistancing the Dragonfly. The wind blew sparkles off Electrum's hat. He smiled as his thought dust, now cloaked and unreadable, drifted harmlessly on the breeze. Who knew what other secrets Gilder might find in the gold scrolls.

He turned the Dragonfly toward the Ship Growers Pond and his pine tree.

###

Discover other titles by these authors at Smashwords.com

CHILDREN'S FANTASY BOOKS

Murky Manor

Cave of Discovery

Worlds Within

The World Beyond the Door

A COLLECTION OF WRITINGS

Thoughts on the Wind

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