"Emmy!" Clive recognised the shadowy figure, who stepped out of the shadows. Emmy grinned and ran over, undoing the restraints.

"How did you get here?" Clive asked, undoing Flora's restraints and looking around. He was in what appeared to be a hospital room. It was filled with nasty, sharp needles.

"It doesn't matter - but we need to get out!" Emmy insisted. Clive nodded and grabbed Flora's hand, nearly dragging her behind him but Flora caught up. Layton and Luke were apparently already outside and they were the last. Alarms began ringing in the group's ears, gunfire narrowly avoiding them. Clive was hit by several bullets but nothing could stop him, even with the aching pain of the bullets that had gone clean through his left arm.

"Um... Clive? Are you okay?" Flora asked, catching sight of the holes in Clive's arm. He nodded while running. There was no time for dawdling and as soon as Clive had gotten to the ground floor he let go of Flora and hurled himself through a window. Emmy followed with Flora, who was careful not to get pierced by shards. Guards were still shooting at them, but they were not professional snipers. They couldn't shoot moving targets unless they got particularly lucky, and these fellows weren't. Luke was waiting by a tree and took them down to a boat - not Lrerin's boat, a different one.

"Get in, quickly!" Layton shouted, running over. Emmy and Luke jumped straight in while Clive and Layton helped Flora getting into the boat. There were three paddles - one double-sided and two singles. Clive took a single paddle because Emmy had already taken the double-sided. Layton took the other paddle and they paddled away from the island as quickly as they could, using Luke's compass as a guide. The journey took several hours but eventually they arrived at the port.

"So... is this over?" Clive asked, brushing a dozen stray hairs from his face.

"It isn't. We need to do a lot more before we can officially call this case closed," Layton said. "In the meantime, Clive, I'm offering you a chance to stay at my house for a while - at least until we sort everything out. What about yourself, Emmy?"

"Clive can move in with me - I've got a completely empty room and a blow-up mattress," Emmy explained.

"I think I'll take Emmy's offer. No offense, Professor," Clive said. The professor nodded.

"And none taken. It's growing late, so we should all head home and get some well-earned rest and some time to investigate the island. From my studies, I found the island's name is Ebinor, the locals' word for lost. Or so according to Lakeehatria," Layton explained. "I'll leave you to study, since I barely know much more. We'll meet here tomorrow, after lunch... around one o' clock in the afternoon?" There were general nods, so Layton bade Clive and Emmy farewell and left with Luke.

"So where are we going?" Clive asked.

"I've got connections in Scotland Yard, so I guess we'll go there... Ah!" Emmy froze. "I left my motorbike on the island!"

"Relax, you told me that was a spare," Clive reassured her.

"Oh... oh yeah," Emmy blushed in embarrassment. "Thanks for reminding me. Go to Scotland Yard and ask for Inspector Clamp Grosky. Tell him I said to show you all the records about Ebinor." Clive nodded and watched as Emmy rushed off, then he walked to the nearest bus stop and took the bus to Scotland Yard. He ran into Inspector Grosky on his way in. Grosky was attacking a criminal but experiencing some difficulty. Clive kicked the criminal as he had seen Emmy do before and the criminal, not as hard as he believed himself to be, toppled backwards.

"And that's what you- Uh? Clive?" Grosky stared at Clive. "Where's Emmy?"

"Errand," Clive replied. "But she asked me to do her a favour and ask you if I could see the files about an island called Ebinor."

"Ebinor? Never heard of it! You're probably better off asking the Gressenheller Geography Department. But I'll get someone to check and we'll phone Emmy as soon as we get something," Grosky explained. "For now, I have to put this criminal behind bars!"

"Good luck with that, Inspector," Clive chuckled and walked off, catching the bus to Gressenheller University. The university wasn't as full as usual, but Clive knew some people must still be there. He entered the university and immediately came across a man with brown hair.

"Excuse me," Clive asked politely. "Could I speak with someone from the Geography Department?"

"Well... If you help me solve this puzzle. You see, my granddaughter gave me it, and I simply can't figure it out, and Hershel isn't here to help me," the man made a sad face. "I'm the dean. Dean Delmona."

"Clive Dove, friend of Professor Layton's," Clive introduced himself.

"Here's the puzzle. 'A mother and daughter both type very quickly. The daughter types, with one key every 0.1 seconds. The mother types with one key every 0.2 seconds. However! It takes them 1 second to press 'cvbnm', and that's not the combination of letters. How long does it take the mother to write 'cookies are my best friend'?" Dean Delmona puzzled. Clive thought, calculations whizzing through his brain. He'd already discovered the 'cvbnm' trick.

"The answer is 8.4, Dean. You see, the space bar on a keyboard is located directly beneath the letters 'cvbnm', so from there I know typing a space takes 1 second. From there, I count all the letters. 0.2, then 0.4, then 0.6, so and so forth. I added the spaces and the letters together to get my total. It's complicated mathematics, but it's easy with a calculator," Clive explained. The dean looked puzzled for a bit until it finally clicked in his head.

"I'm never good at puzzles like that," Dean Delmona sighed. "Thanks for the help, Clive. The geography department is down that corridor. I believe the geography professor is in his room, Room 59." Clive said his thanks and strolled down the corridor, knocking on the door to Room 59. There was a muffled 'come in, kid' and Clive opened the door. Inside the room was a simple office, with hundreds of books on the shelves but all of them in alphabetical order. It was a far cry from Layton's office, and a bespectacled woman with softly curled ginger hair wearing a bright green jacket and navy blue trousers with black high-heeled boots. It seemed as if the outfit had been chosen so she stood out.

"What is it you want, kid?" the professor asked, placing a beautiful quill in a bottle.

"Have you ever heard of Ebinor Island?" Clive asked. The professor tensed.

"Ebinor Island? Why are you asking about Ebinor Island?" the professor looked up, her eyes like fire. She calmed herself down and then looked at Clive with those still frantic but slightly calmer eyes. "Sorry, kid, that was rude of me. I'm Professor Lore Birchwood. I specialize in geography. You should take it up, kid."

"I'm Clive Dove. But still... What do you know about Ebinor Island?" Clive asked. Lore growled.

"Have you been to Ebinor?" she asked, her voice firm. Clive knew this was a question he had to answer, and he had to answer it truthfully.

"Yes. I just escaped from Ebinor," Clive explained. Lore grabbed his arm.

"We have to go back. The Ebinorians will come here and kill you if you don't go back and apologise for running off on them, and I'm a sister of an Ebinorian, but I hated living there. Okay... All of that is a lie. I have my own reasons for returning to the island, but I want you to go with me... Please," Lore begged.

"You didn't need to lie. I'm afraid I can't accept your offer until I have discussed this with Layton. Archaeology. Him, myself, his assistant Luke Triton, his adopted daughter Flora Reinhold and his other assistant Emmy Altava went to Ebinor. We're meeting up at a port tomorrow at one o' clock. I'll take you there, but for now I know you're an ally of ours. Thank you, Professor..." Clive nodded his regards and left Lore thinking.

Clive found Emmy back at Scotland Yard, having a discussion with a well-mannered young girl bearing pink hair. She appeared to be a secretary, judging by the giant badge on her collar saying 'I AM THE SECRETARY'. Emmy, catching sight of Clive, said her goodbyes and walked over to Clive.

"We're taking Professor of Geography Lore Birchwood with us. She knows something about Ebinor," Clive explained. "For now, it'd probably be best to scour the internet tonight and check the library tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me," Emmy replied. "I guess I'll take you back home." It wasn't the longest of walks back to Emmy's house, so it was spent in silence, both Clive and Emmy lost in their own thoughts.

Emmy's house wasn't very big but it was spacious enough for Clive, who had grown used to sitting in a tiny prison cell with Tyrone. Clive's room was indeed empty, bar a few ancient sweet wrappers and a piece of gum on the wall. Emmy blew up the mattress herself and Clive wasn't the biggest fan of blown-up mattresses but it was far better than the hard prison beds. Emmy had a spare laptop which Clive spent several hours on researching Ebinor, but there was nothing interesting in the first 100 Google pages. Clive checked the time, to find the clock was displaying 0:07. He yawned and turned the laptop off, leaving the room. Emmy was asleep at her desk, so Clive tried his best not to make any noise as he placed the laptop on charge.

Clive walked to the bathroom and did whatever he needed to do, then returned to the bedroom, picking up a blanket on the way to keep him warm. It wasn't the biggest of blankets and Clive had to make several adjustements before he got the blanket to keep him warm. He rolled over several times and had to adjust the blanket before attempting to get to sleep. It was difficult, with all the thoughts rocketing around his mind, but eventually he dropped off to sleep, one filled with dreams morphing from nightmares to the most cheerful of dreams.

"Clive! Clive! CLIIIIIVE!" It took Emmy several yells and then the shaking of Clive to wake him up and when he did he was groggy.

"Go away!" he grumbled, letting out a lengthy yawn. "Oh... uggh. Morning Emmy." Emmy placed her hands on her hips and sighed before scolding Clive.

"It's nine o' clock! You should've been up an hour ago, but I was up TWO HOURS ago!" Emmy yelled. "Now get up!"

"Sorry. I'm tired," Clive said, standing up and stretching.

"How can you be tired after all that sleep you got on the island?" Emmy asked. Clive shrugged.

"I don't know. What's for breakfast?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Emmy thought for a while.

"Mmm... I'll tell you once I've checked the fridge," she replied and left the room. Clive brushed down his crumpled clothes and walked through to the living room, sitting down on the yellow sofa. He found the remote, buried beneath the sofa's cushions, and turned the television on. Nothing interesting on the news. Someone jumped off a cliff and died again - it seemed it was becoming a trend in suicides. Clive could still remember watching a documentary on suicide spots. He would never admit it, but just the video footage of Aokigahara had sent chills up his spine. It had been absolutely silent, nothing but the cameraman's footsteps, and the skulls...

"Clive! I've got... uh... Bacon, sausages or toast. I've not got much, so I'm afraid you can only pick one," Emmy apologised. Clive snapped out of his thoughts.

"Ah... bacon for me. As much as you're comfortable with. I don't mind - the prison food always tasted like sick. They thought I was anorexic because I scarcely ate," he groaned. "Tried to stuff food down my throat. Mind you, I got to throw up on the lousy one when they tried that. He resigned." Emmy laughed.

"So you gave him what for! I'd better go prepare that bacon for you, then. And I only have water," she said, returning to the kitchen. Clive glanced back to the news.

"BREAKING NEWS now! Elk Birchwood was murdered last night. The police are currently investigating. Elk Birchwood is the sister of a Professor Lore Birchwood, who works at Gressenheller University, London. The professor has refused to make a statement about the murder, instead telling all her interviewers 'I'm still going Ebinorward bound...'. What that means we're not quite sure... Now for the weather..." Clive sat up at the mention of Lore's name.

"This cannot be a coincidence..." Clive mumbled. "Argh... How confusing." He stood up and walked through to Emmy's room, gently easing the door open so she wouldn't notice. Clive shut the door silently and scoured Emmy's room. It was hurting his eyes; the brightness of it all. The walls were yellow, the bed was yellow, the desk was yellow, the wardrobe was yellow. Clive sighed and shielded his eyes, then rummaged through Emmy's drawers, silently thinking to himself how ungentlemanly this was. He rummaged through the drawers... Notebooks, and lots of them. He searched through them, for the unused ones and found an abundance of unused notebooks at the back. He grabbed one and found an old pen. It wouldn't work, but a bit of shaking did the trick.

"Clive? Where are you?" Emmy called. Clive swore and shoved the drawer shut, looking for cover. He dived underneath the bed, glancing around at the boxes. He looked in one, but it was too dark beneath the bed to see, yellow as it was. The door opened and Clive held his breath, heart pounding. Surely Emmy could hear the beating of his heart? As quietly as he could, Clive shuffled to the wall and curled himself up in case Emmy looked beneath the bed. "Is that you, Shirana? Woof woof?" There was a yowl from next to him and Clive nearly yelped as he noticed a husky lying next to him. It must be 'Shirana'. Shirana crawled out from beneath the bed and Emmy soon left the room, leaving the door open. Clive waited until he heard her enter the bathroom then dashed out, hiding the notebook and pen beneath a cushion.

"There you are!" Emmy shouted as she stormed through to the living room. "Where have you been? I was worried sick!"

"Hmm. That's a secret, Emmy. I met your friend Shirana... husky?" Clive questioned. Emmy placed two fingers in her mouth and whistled a piercing whistle, Shirana running through and barking.

"Yeah, this is Shirana. I'm taking care of her because her owner, my grandmother, died a few months ago. I think I'll keep Shirana. She seems to have taken quite a shine to me," Emmy smiled.

"I can see that," Clive replied, Shirana jumping onto his lap and licking his face. Remarkably, Clive found himself not throwing Shirana off and accepting the rough tongue on his face. "Okay, okay, I get the point, Shirana. Down." Shirana looked up at Clive with puppy eyes and he sighed, stroking the husky who was now rather pleased she'd gained the heart of the newcomer.

"Your bacon's cooking. Might want to get Shirana off your knees, otherwise she'll be eating the bacon, not you," Emmy teased. Clive rolled his eyes and decided to keep Shirana happy, then he could shove her off with no feelings of guilt. Well, that was the plan, but even good plans could be broken. A few minutes later, the bacon was ready and Clive shoved Shirana off. She whined but Clive wouldn't fall for it and he pushed her away whenever Shirana tried to jump up and eat the bacon. Clive finished quickly and Shirana pounced back up onto him, searching for the source of the delicious smells.

"Alright, alright, Shirana. I need to go. I'm busy," Clive said, standing up after he'd shoved Shirana off more violently than he'd meant to. Since it was apparently cold outside, Emmy lent Clive 50 to get a new coat. She didn't request that Clive paid back and when she wasn't looking, he grabbed his stolen notebook and pen and left. He began noting he needed to pay Emmy back, then got onto normal matters, occasionally stopping to write a little more neatly. Writing on the move wasn't easy, but eventually Clive found himself at a shop selling clothes for more active people, and though Clive wasn't exactly active, the coats shops like Trespass sold were brilliant and long-lasting. Clive picked himself a non-blindingly blue, waterproof and windproof coat. It was bigger than Clive's normal size, a large instead of a medium. The coat draped down past his waist and several centimetres above his knees.

Clive still had plenty money spare, and decided he wanted some coffee and maybe a bit more of a meal to fill him up for the day's events. It wasn't Emmy's fault she was unprepared - she probably wouldn't have guessed Clive wouldn't have been staying, but still, Clive needed more food if he was to return to Ebinor. He selected a small, near-empty caf that looked to be one of the best. He ordered coffee and a biscuit, eating rather quickly. He returned to Emmy's house, having been out for about an hour. He hung his coat up on a spare peg and Emmy took a good look at it, poking and prodding.

"Hmm... Good choice. How much?" Emmy asked, seeing no sign of a price tag. Clive had ripped off the price tag and thrown it in a bin earlier.

"Twenty," Clive lied. He'd spent 15 on the coat and spent 5 on the coffee and biscuit.

"So when are we going to get Professor Birchwood?" Emmy asked, glancing at her watch. 10:08...

"We'll take her out for lunch," Clive replied. "Decided that on the way. As long as you don't mind."

"I don't mind! Really! We could use the leftover money from your shopping spree!" Emmy suggested. Clive nodded.

"And what do I do for now?" he asked. "We've got two hours left over."

"Uhh... Read a book? I have lots. I like murder mystery novels, or general mystery novels!" Emmy grinned. Clive nodded for the umpteenth time.

"Right. I like them too," Clive lied and explored the various bookshelves of Emmy's room. Clive sighed. He didn't like murder mysteries much, but there were a few mystery novels he enjoyed, but he seldom enjoyed fiction. Clive spent his time sitting with great big books filled with mind-numbingly boring facts that Clive memorized, his brain sucking it all up like a sponge. He felt there was no time for fiction in this world of fact. But that wasn't true. Emmy silently watched in the doorway as Clive pulled out a factual book, after completely ignoring the mystery novels.

Emmy made a mental note to tell Clive why fiction was useful.