"You see, I used to live there. I'm from Dourbridge."


The single moment of silence following this statement was broken by Opal, naturally.

"You what!"

"I'm from Dourbridge," Sydney said again. She did not look up from the grass at her feet. "Not originally, technically, but I'm from there all the same."

"But you said that everyone who lives there is on the run from the law," Connor said. Sydney nodded as much as she could without raising her head. She did not seem to wish to look at us…or was it to have us look at her?

"Yes," Sydney said. "I don't remember where I lived when I was younger. My mam and dad died when I was about three- I barely remember them. I grew up having to steal. But I got into a lot of trouble, so I ran to Dourbridge. I lived there until I was thirteen."

I remembered what she had told us our first afternoon in Stornway: "I studied staff fighting and theology there for a few years," referring to Swinedimples Academy. "And that is when you went to Swinedimples."

"Yeah," she said. "I was lucky to get out. Most people who go to Dourbridge end up there for the rest of their lives. Father Peter, the priest there, led me to the Almighty, and I decided that I wanted to help people the way he helped me." She chuckled slightly, and I saw her cheek lift. "He's also the reason I've never had a mug of ale in my life."

I was curious about that, but I decided not to ask.

"But that doesn't mean you can't go back!" Opal said. "I mean, nobody's gonna get stuck there now. We're hunting fyggs, remember? And besides, maybe it'll be nice to see a place you lived for…how long?"

"Nine years."

"You had friends there, right?" Connor asked. Sydney looked up. "Not really, except for Father Peter. I knew a few people, but everyone there was a lot older than me."

I understood. Sydney's relationships in Dourbridge were much like mine in the Observatory- few friends, but for one who taught her. I touched her lightly on the arm, and she did not pull away.

"Do not worry," I said. "We shall simply pass through- although no doubt we will have to stop to go shopping." I smiled and looked briefly to Opal, who stuck out her tongue. Sydney smiled as well. "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm," she said. "And there is something that I'd like to take care of while we're there."

"It's settled, then!" cheered Opal. "Let's go!"

So we began again to Dourbridge.

My first impression of the town was one of griminess. It seemed that most every surface visible had a layer of dirt over it. Chimneys exhaled a deep black smoke that covered the dirt with a layer of smoke grime. The sluggish river that moved through the centre was muddy brown, with litter and waste floating slowly downstream. I could not comprehend why someone would choose to be there their whole life, and I understood why Sydney had left. This town was depressing.

"I suppose the first stop would be the store," Sydney said, looking at Opal. Her pigtails bounced as she nodded. "Which way?"

"Follow me," Sydney said, turning to the left and heading north along the path. When we turned right, I saw a greying man who looked rather drunk standing there and clutching his head. "Oh…" he groaned. "Selling my priestly effects for drink money… I might as well have sold my very soul… O Almighty One! Forgive me, for I have sinned!" Then he hiccoughed loudly.

To my surprise, Sydney looked excited. "Father Peter!" she said quietly. The man looked up and peered at her blearily for a moment. "…Sydney?" he asked. "What are you doing back in this Almighty-forsaken hole of a town?"

"I'm helping my friends search for something," Sydney replied, gesturing to us. Father Peter peered at us now. "Ah," he said. "Good to meet you," and he hiccoughed again.

"Erm…" I said, looking around at everyone else. "It is, erm, good to meet you too."

"I finished my studies," Sydney told Father Peter. "At Swinedimples." Peter smiled. "That's good to hear, my dear." A bird passed over us then, chirping loudly, and Peter put a hand to his head.

"Perhaps you ought to go to sleep," I suggested. Peter swayed, and then nodded. "It was good to see you, Sydney," he said. "Good to see you, too, Father Peter," Sydney said, and Peter stumbled off.

After a moment, Connor said, "…And that's why you've never had ale."

Sydney laughed. "Yeah," she said as we began heading east and down a set of stairs. "He's been struggling with that as long as I can remember. Although, for a few months before I left it seemed to be getting better…" She shrugged.

Sydney led us around a man in a straw hat who was lying on the ground. I looked at him but Sydney said, "Don't worry about him. He's always there."

A few metres beyond the man was a counter. Behind it was a man in yellow armour and a fair numbers of weapons and types of armour. "Hullo, Jenkins," Sydney said, and I was a little surprised by her voice. Her accent was a touch rougher; perhaps she was falling back into the habits she had had as a child here?

"Sydney!" exclaimed the man, seeming oddly genial for such a bulky man. "It's good to see ya back! Who're your friends, eh?"

Sydney introduced us, and then said, "We were hopin' to look through your wares." She peered around Jenkins, and her eyes widened. "Is that a Stolos' staff?"

"Aye," said Jenkins, grinning. "I s'pose you want to do your fightin' with a staff now, eh? More's the pity. You were hell with a pair o' claws!"

My eyes widened. "Claws?" I asked. Sydney grinned. "Yeah. I used to go outside town and train against the monsters out there. Made mincemeat out of 'em, I did!"

"And out o' me," said Jenkins. "Syd here woulda been able to kill me if she'd been fightin' for a reason."

Sydney tossed her head and laughed. "I always fight for a reason, Jenkins," she said. "You ought to remember that!"

Watching the exchange, I was amazed. Who would have suspected that quiet, caring Sydney was all of this? Former thief, resident of Dourbridge, rough around the edges and a claw-wielder. It was almost impossible to reconcile with all that I had already known about her.

Eventually, we began to peruse Jenkins's wares. I found a blue, silver-handled fan with lighter blue patterns along the slats. It was a Foehn fan, one that would fire air in battle. I was hooked.

Sydney purchased the Stolos' staff that she had been interested, though all of us urged her to try the pair of sacred claws that Jenkins had in stock. She also bought a knee-length denim skirt. Again, Opal bought nothing. Connor did not buy anything, either.

We paid Jenkins, and Sydney changed into her denim skirt behind a small screen. We sold him my war fan, Sydney's spiky staff, and her old skirt. "'Bye, Jenkins," Sydney said, and then we headed back up the stairs. "There's one more person I want to see," she told us as we started across the bridge. "I've been collecting these-"

She broke off as we reached about halfway across the bridge, looking ahead. I looked, took, and my eyes widened. The transparent figure of a girl in a hooded cloak had materialised. She was staring north, so I could only see her in profile, and her hood was up, but I recognised her immediately. It was the girl who had appeared in the clearing by the Starflight!

"No…" she murmured sadly. "Not here, either." She turned then, and saw us. Her eyes widened as they landed on me. "Huh? S-Surely…" She walked- nearly jogged- up and peered into my face. I was frozen, unable to look away from the girl's curious face. There was a long pause while she looked at me.

"No…" she said, shaking her head. "No, it can't be…" She turned and walked west. As she did, I heard her say, "What am I thinking, mistaking a traveller for a Celestrian like that…?"

We all turned to look at her. She dematerialised as we watched.

It was silent for a long moment. Then, Stella said, "Haven't I seen that fashion abomination somewhere before?"

I looked at her, ready to give her a tongue-lashing, but before I could get the words together, Stella shrugged and said, "Oh well. Never mind. You've got fyggs to be finding, right? Well, let's hope your search is fruitful! Ha!"

I shook my head. Stella's wit was less than stellar, I reflected, as we began walking back across the bridge. Sydney led us down a ladder near the end of the bridge, and we walked north and up a set of stairs leading northwest. A large, mauve-and-peach striped tent stood before us.

"Come on," Sydney said. She headed into the tent, and we followed.

The interior of the tent looked like the treasure chamber of Stornway. Gold and gems stood heaped about the room, red treasure chests dotted the floor, and the very smell spoke of riches. Ahead of us, on a wooden platform, a large man with an odd hat stood facing away from us, towards the largest pile in the room. It seemed almost entirely made up of round golden coins.

Sydney strode up the platform and spoke. "Hullo there, Cap'n Max!" she said, and the man turned. There was a patch on his left eye, but I saw the other light up as he saw Sydney. "Ahoy there, m'dear!" he exclaimed, clapping her into what must have been a bone-breaking hug. "Where've ye been all these years?"

"Swinedimples Academy," Sydney told him. "And findin' mini medals for you. Here, I've been collectin' 'em!" She reached into her bag and pulled out a fistful of the round coins- mini medals. Max held out his hand, and Sydney dropped the medals into his large palm. "Arrr, just look at that gleam!" he exclaimed, examining them. "Like miniature suns, they are!"

He clapped Sydney on the shoulder with his free hand. "Thank 'ee kindly!" he said. Then he turned, poured his new medals onto the pile, and picked up something else. When he turned back, I realised that it was a thief's key- one made to open any lock, so long as it was not too complex. Something like that could be useful.

Max handed the key to Sydney, saying, "I suppose ye'll be off now. Good luck, me hearty!"

Sydney thanked him, and we left.

"He was…uh, interesting," Connor said. "Very exuberant," I said, nodding. Sydney smiled. "He's always been that way," she said. "Loves those medals, does Max!"

As it was now after eleven thirty, I suggested that we have lunch. "I know a place," Sydney said. Reluctant as I was to eat anything in the grimy city, I was hungry, and I wanted more than just the bread and fruits in Sydney's bag. They were good, but I had felt hungrier of late. I needed protein.

Sydney led us back under the bridge and across a set of stepping-stones to the west. She then turned into a small hut that stood against the side of the bridge. Connor, Opal and I followed her inside.

It was surprisingly light in there, and clean. A man dressed in white and wearing a chef's hat stood behind a fire, cooking something that smelled wonderful. He looked up as we entered.

"Sydney!" he exclaimed. "It is good to see you, my dear. Have you come because of hunger?"

"Yes," Sydney replied. "My friends and I." She looked at us. "Everyone, this is Petero. He used to be the head chef of the palace of Gleeba."

"Gleeba?" Connor asked. "That's a long way away, isn't it? In the desert."

Petero nodded. "Come!" he said then, gesturing to us. "I have finished the stew. Let us fill your stomachs!"

So we enjoyed a hearty meat stew. Petero declined telling us what was in it, which I rather appreciated. I did not imagine that it would be fine cuts of beef, after all. But despite the mystery of the meat, it was every bit as delicious as its scent had promised, and the meal was a cheerful one.

As we began helping Petero clean up, I asked, "Would you have any knowledge of a shining, golden fruit? We are searching for it, you see, and we believe it may be here."

"A golden fruit…" Petero mused. "Yes, I believe I have heard of such a thing. There is a man in the north-eastern corner of town who had a fruit like you have described. I remember, for he refused to give it to me so I could cook with it."

And a good thing as well, I thought, remembering the Abbot and Lleviathan. I simply hoped that this man had not chosen to eat it himself. I did not have any desire to face one of Dourbridge's ruffians when he had eaten one of the fyggs.

"Thanks for the stew, Petero," said Opal as we left. "It was delicious!" She had eaten three bowlfuls of it. Petero smiled and told us we were welcome as we walked out the door.

The door to the north-eastern house was not locked, and Sydney (who had once again taken the lead) did not knock. She merely pushed the door open. A large man wearing a yellow mask stood before a fire, talking to himself.

"'Oo'd've thought I'd sell that shinin' fruit for such big money, eh? An' it only cost me a pair of leather shoes! He he he!"

"Hullo," Sydney said. "What's this about a shinin' fruit? We were lookin' for one, you see."

The man turned, not seeming very surprised about four young strangers being in his house. "Eh? You're after one an' all, are ya? 'Fraid I sold it to that bloke 'oo lives at the bottom o' that mountain, Zere Rocks. If you wanna go after it, just cross the bridge an' follow the road east. 'Ave a gander at the signs an' you should be fine."

"Thank you," I said, and we left. As we did so, I heard him mutter, "I wonder what made the old feller pay so much for it, though, eh?"

"Zere Rocks…" I mused. "It sounds familiar somehow."

Sydney nodded. After a moment of walking, Opal snapped her fingers. "I've got it!" she exclaimed. "Zere, where those two women sang the Right Knight ditty!"

"Of course!" cried Connor. I smacked my forehead. "One would think I would have remembered that," I said to my palm. Connor laughed and moved my hand away from my face. "None of us remembered it right away, either," he reminded me. "I know," I replied, shrugging. "But it sounds so much like my name- I ought to have thought of it!"

Connor shook his head, smiling, and we continued on.

We travelled back to the ladder on the bridge, climbed it, and headed east. It was a very short time before we were out of Dourbridge and back in the bright light of midday. It had most likely been just as bright in Dourbridge, but it was too dingy for the sun to be of any use.

All of us looked at Sydney then, and she looked back at us, seeming self-conscious. "What?" she asked. "Wow!" burst Opal. "Claws? Mincemeat? Sydney, you're amazing! Why didn't you tell us about that?"

"I didn't want to," Sydney replied, shrugging. "Never did. No one at Swinedimples knew where I came from, nor did anyone in Stornway. Dourbridge is part of my past now, and I don't want it in my present."

"You seemed to take it in your stride," I observed. Sydney's cheeks went slightly pink. "Yeah, well, you don't forget old habits," she said. "Be talkin' like this for days, I will, unless I try to control it."

She sighed. "Although I do miss how free you are there sometimes. Nobody asks you where you're goin', what you intend to do. Left to your own devices, you are, really." But then she shook her head. "All the same, I wouldn't want to live there again."

After several moments of walking in silence, Opal asked, "So, Zere Rock's a ways away to the south. It's really closer to Bloomindale than Dourbridge."

Sydney pulled out her map. "You're right," she said, and we all looked, "if you take the paths. If you crossed that little river there-" she pointed- "I think it'd be shorter."

Seeing us looking at her, she said, "It wasn't a suggestion. I was just saying."

I shrugged and reached for Connor's hand. We would be walking for a while, to judge by the map. Small, puffy clouds were slowly meandering across the sky. There was a light breeze coming over the sea to the west, and the sun was warm. Some small part of my mind said that there was bound to be bad weather soon, after all this sunshine, but I ignored it. Connor and I swung our hands back and forth slightly as we walked. The peace was perfect. I knew Opal and Sydney were there, but it almost seemed as though they weren't- they were giving us space to ourselves. I appreciated it.

Connor and I talked as we walked. It seemed that we spoke of everything- monsters, his sensei in Stornway, Aquila, books we each had read (few enough in common, yet still interesting), how people could be so different than you believed. There was so much more, but to recount it all would take the lifetime of the most ancient of Celestrians.

It was two hours before we reached a clearing at the foot of a large mountain. A small wooden cabin stood to the eastern side. Bits of statuary, wood, and stumps stood scattered about.

I led the way up to the door of the cabin and knocked. There was no response. With that, a powerful feeling of déjà vu came over me- this clearing could have been the street of Coffinwell on which Catarrhina's and Phlegming's cottage stood. With a feeling of dread in my stomach, I pushed open the door and we stepped inside.

The furnishings were sparse. Looking about the room, I saw no personal effects but for a book lying open on a small desk. I crossed to it. The pages were handwritten, and an inkwell stood next to it. The book was a journal.

I did not wish to pry, but I felt compelled to read. We needed to find Mason, and this journal could provide a clue. Aware of the others peering over my shoulders (and around them, in Opal's case), I began to read aloud.

"'It was an eternity ago. I told my poor sweetheart I'd be back in five years, and then set off on my travels. All I cared about was learning to work stone. Five years passed in the blink of an eye, but I barely noticed. When I finally made it back home, it was to find out that she'd gone and married another man. Och, that was an eternity ago, though. I'm an old man now. That was back in my younger days. I'm heading north to Zere Rocks. It won't be long now till it's all over. I doubt I'll be back at this hut again.'"

I caught the date at the top of the entry. It was that of the previous day. I looked up from the journal and to my companions. "Perhaps he is up there."

Sydney nodded slightly. "Maybe." She looked down at the page, and gave a small sigh. "What do you say we go check?"

"Sounds like a plan!" Opal cheered. "Come on, let's go!"

We followed her as she raced out the door and headed up the path to the north. I felt walled in along that path- tall trees hemmed us to the east and west, and to the north the mountain loomed. Though the sun was bright in the blue sky above, I felt as though I was trapped.

Passing through a dark entrance, we entered a stone cave. Water fell in a steady stream from a hole in the ceiling to a pool in the ground. The floor curved up and around steadily to the right, and a steep cliff stood to the left. A ladder led up its side, but the small ledge dead-ended at a second cliff.

We took the right path, as it led up to an opening that let light into the cave. I moved closer to Connor. The cave was creepy.

As we reached the level stone before the opening, a chill ran up my spine and I turned. My eyes widened. "Behind you, Opal!" I exclaimed, seeing the toxic zombie that was stumbling rapidly towards her.

Opal whipped about, brandishing her knife. Before it could react, she stabbed it in the gut, but it took no notice.

I sliced at it with my fan, catching its right hand and cutting it off at the wrist. Again, it took no notice. Zombies had no feeling whatsoever- a useful thing for it, but incredibly annoying for us. It would not stumble or be hindered by any wounds we could deal it aside from fatal ones.

Connor's punch sent it sprawling, and I noticed as it got up I noticed that part of its rib cage seemed crushed inwards. Though it could not feel pain, it was rotted and its body would be weaker than normal. Perhaps we could use that to our advantage…

The zombie lumbered forward and scratched me down the arm. "Augh!" I cried, instinctively clapping my hand to the cut. It burned like fire. The toxic zombie seemed to have gotten its name for a reason!

I waved Sydney away when she attempted to heal me. "The zombie," I said. The cave was beginning to look strange; colours were blurred and everything seemed to be spinning. I managed to retrieve an antidotal herb from my bag and crush it over my scratch. As the juice dribbled into the cut, the fire seemed to increase, and I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. But then the pain eased, and I sighed as the cave returned to normal.

I looked up to find that the battle had progressed. There was a second dent in the zombie's rib cage, one that looked like it had been caused by a staff. It also had a deep slice low in its stomach. It seemed that Opal had not managed to hit any vital organs.

Connor hurled a fistful of rocks at the zombie. My breath caught as the rocks all pummelled it in almost the same spot on the upper left side of the zombie's chest. It stumbled back, tottered for a moment, and fell over. It crumbled into dust as we watched.

"Are you alright?" Connor asked then, moving over to me. I nodded. "I had an antidotal herb in my bag. I am fine now."

"Good," he said, smiling. "I wouldn't want you to be poisoned."

I smiled, and we moved through the entrance, continuing up Zere Rocks.

The trek was difficult, involving climbing up vines and, at two points, balancing while running across them. Finally, we reached the top of a large staircase.

I stared in amazement. Sydney gasped. "Wow!" Opal breathed. Connor said nothing, but I saw him looking around, as amazed as the rest of us.

There, on the top of the mountain, was a perfect reproduction of Zere- made completely of stone. Statues of people stood at points throughout the town- a young woman near the tree, a little boy frozen in a running pose near the stairs where I had sung the Right Knight ditty.

Slowly, we began moving through the town. Every last detail of the town was perfect- a cat wandering around, leaves on the ground and the tree, the expressions upon the statue people's faces. It must have taken an immense amount of painstaking effort to carve this out.

When we reached the space in front of what would have been Alanna and Petra's house, I realised that there was no door where it ought to have been- where it had been in the other houses and in the church. There was nothing but an opening, and I could see that there was something inside.

As we entered, Stella said, "No way, this one's even got all the insides carved out properly as well… What's the deal with this place? Someone's left no stone unturned in turning everything to stone…" With that, she looked to me. "Hang on, Zera… I'm having a backflash… Haven't we seen all this somewhere? We went somewhere like this a while back. Somewhere with a gimongous tree bang-slap in the middle of town…"

I did not get a chance to remind her of Zere. At that moment, Opal gasped and pointed a small chocolate hand at something. Following her finger, I saw a little slime staring at us. It made a slurping sound. Then, to my shock, it spoke in a voice that sounded full of sloshing water.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" it asked. I couldn't quite make myself speak, but it seemed Sydney could. "We're lookin' for Mason," she told the slime. Its eyes widened, and it seemed to smile. "Ooh! Every singoo rock here was carved by Mr Mason, you know. He did it all on his own. He really stretched himself! It took him years and years to make this village, and then just when he's finished it, he dropped down dead. What a way to goo!"

Thinking about the village and the effort it must have taken, I believed I could understand why. Much of Mason's life must have been taken up by the carving of Zere Rocks. Once it was finished, I could not imagine that he had anything left to live for.

"He was a very frugal man," continued the slime. "But in the end he indulged in a gootiful fruit that he'd slupchased in Dourbridge. It was his one extravagoonce ever. Do you know what he told me as he ate it?"

As he spoke, I reflected how talkative the slime was, when by all rights it ought not be able to speak at all. It was a bit of a paradox.

"He said this place was all he had. So it was his wish that it would always remain and never goo squishy. But ever since he gave up the goost, there's-"

It was cut off by a powerful jolt in the ground, propelling all of us into the air. I stumbled as we hit the ground and cried out as my left ankle twisted the wrong way. Connor helped me up as the slime said, "Th-There it is agoon! I-I've been hearing that petrifying noise ever since!"

It hopped away rapidly to hide in a corner. We raced outside, me leaning slightly on Connor.

"Ah!" yelled Stella. In my opinion, "ah" summed up what stood before us. A stone gargoyle, at least seven feet tall, loomed before us. It had poisonous yellow eyes without pupils or whites.

"Who…are…YOU?" it bellowed, seeming to have difficulty speaking. Its voice was dry and cracked, as though it could have used a long drink of water. "You…are…not…Mason… Intruders!"

Its eyes flashed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Stella flee behind the house.

"You….will…know….the…wrath…of…Garth…Goyle,….Guardian…of…the…Rocks…!"

It began to lumber forwards, straight towards us. I put my weight back on my injured side as Connor did his interesting wind attack. Garth Goyle seemed almost unfazed by the wind, but it was blown back a pace.

Opal cast Crackle. The icicle broke against the underside of its stone body, but it seemed to damage it all the same. I, too, cast Crackle, uncertain if my ankle would hold my weight in a forward rush.

Garth Goyle jumped up and hit the ground with a heavy crash. I fell over, in the resulting vibration, and I imagined that this would be what an earthquake felt like. As Connor pulled me back up, Garth Goyle cast a spell that I recognised from a book as being Kabuff, a spell to raise defence.

Sydney came over to me and held her hand over my twisted ankle. "Thank you," I sighed, feeling the pain ease. I put my weight on my now non-injured foot and faced the battle, feeling more confident now that I was whole.

Connor picked up a handful of carved rock-leaves and pebbles and hurled them at Garth Goyle. They slightly chipped the stone of its chest, but seemed to cause it little damage. I reflected that a martial artist's skills could not be of much use against something which would break any hand or foot that attempted to harm it. But I noticed that as the rocks left his hand, a smile crossed his face and he stood slightly straighter- though he stood straight ordinarily.

Opal cast Bang, and as soon as the air about the monster regained its normal form, I raced forward and slashed at its chest with my fan. I made a face at the metal-on-stone scrape the attack produced, but my fan seemed to have caused a fair amount of damage. It appeared that Garth Goyle's stone skin was not quite as hard as I had imagined.

Garth Goyle lumbered forward and swiped at Opal with its stone claws. She raised her shield, and there was another scraping sound as the claws grated against the surface. Then the monster turned and attempted to stomp on Sydney. It missed by only a hair's width, and only because Sydney ducked and rolled, leaving her staff on the ground.

She scrambled after the staff and then whacked Garth Goyle on one of his stone wings. It seemed they were very brittle- part of the wing fractured as Sydney's staff hit it.

Connor gave a powerful war cry, and Garth Goyle froze. Recalling the previous time he had done so, I decided that this must have been his coup de grâce, and I decided to christen it War Cry.

Opal did not cast a spell this time. Rather, she raced for the paralysed Garth Goyle and half-leapt, half-scrambled up it to shove her knife into the roof of its open mouth. The knife sank in up to its hilt, and I realised that the inside of its mouth was not made of stone. Opal leapt off- we helped to catch and steady her when she reached the ground so that she would not harm herself- and Garth Goyle made a strange gurgling-choking noise. It fell onto its knees, no longer paralysed, and spoke faintly.

"St…St…Stone…me…!"

With that, it faded away into black mist.

I looked to Opal in amazement. "How were you able to climb like that?" I asked. Opal beamed. "I'm little," she said. "It's an advantage! Besides, don't act as though it's nothing you wouldn't be able to do. You might not really be a minstrel, but I haven't forgotten the gymnastics you did in Stornway!"

I smiled. "But it would have taken me much longer. You found handholds exceptionally fast."

"Huh?" came Stella's voice from around the side of the house. We turned to see her fluttering towards us. "What the flap was that…? It didn't half give me the woollies! I'm all itchy now."

She turned to look at me, and her eyes widened. I followed her gaze to see the ghost of an old man standing at the top of a flight of stone stairs that led down into the earth. As the others turned to look at him as well, he began down the stairs. "Hey, Zera!" Stella said. "D'you think that old man was…?"

"Mason," I said, looking back to the others. "Let us follow him down!"

We hurried down the stairs after the ghost. At the end of a short wide corridor, he stood behind what looked like a tomb. He seemed to be waiting for us.

"I owe you an apology, lad and lassies," he said when we reached him. "Looks like that guardian fellow appeared when I ate that funny fruit and made a wish for my work to be kept safe. But that wasn't what I meant by keeping it safe at all… Anyway, thank you. Now my little friend can relax again at last." He must have been talking about the slime, I decided as he began glowing.

"I couldn't go back there, so I recreated my beautiful, lost hometown here in Zere Rocks. This place is just a replica, you see. The dream of an old fool who hoped he could bring back his lost love. Now, Petra, lass…" My eyes widened. Petra! "Now I can come home to you at last… To my hometown of Zere."

The glow about him increased to an unbearable brightness. I shielded my eyes, and then the glow vanished. A fygg lay on the stone tomb, glowing gently. It floated to me, and I put out my hands to receive it.

In silence, we returned to the surface.

"Of course!" burst Stella when we reached the top of the stairs. "This village is the splitting image of that Zere place where we heard the song about the Wight Knight. So Zere was Mason's hometown, and he spent years sweating blood, sweat, and tears to build this replica of the place… Well, it all…makes sense now…"

She crossed her arms. "No it doesn't! How the flap was that supposed to win his girlfriend back? I really don't get mortals. Out of their trolleys, the lot of them, if you ask me."

I shook my head, but I did not say anything. Arguing with Stella was pointless. But I could understand Mason's state of mind. His love was lost, and so he put himself into an attempt to recreate what he now could never have. Sighing, I looked to the others. "Shall we return to Dourbridge?"

Sydney looked up at the sky, then pulled out her map. "It's not yet three thirty," she said. "We could easily make it to Bloomingdale before supper."

Opal's face lit up. "Let's do that!" she cried. I smiled. "I suppose that is a good idea," I said. "But first…do you think there is any chance that there are any stone toilets here?"

Connor laughed. "What's so funny?" asked Opal. "None of us have had a chance to go since we left Dourbridge. If Zera hadn't brought it up, I would have!"

To my surprise, there was indeed a toilet in a secluded spot behind the stone inn. When it was my turn to advantage of it, I received a second surprise: I had stopped menstruating. But when I thought about it, it could not have lasted forever; eventually, my body would have run out of blood. Perhaps it ran in cycles.

Shaking my head, I finished with the toilet and joined the others in front of the inn. Then we turned and began our journey towards Bloomingdale.

We reached Bloomingdale nearly three hours later, when the sun was beginning to fall low over the sea. I could see gulls circling over the streets, calling to one another. Waves crashed a small distance away.

Opal was smiling widely- nothing new, but this time it was for more reason than her sunny disposition. Bloomingdale was her home, after all.

"I can't wait to introduce you all to Miss Sally!" she said. "She's really nice, and you're really gonna like her, I know it! She raised me after Mom and Dad died, and she's like your favourite aunt. Come on, follow me!"

She raced through the streets of town. We followed her as best we could, past a large inn, a mansion, a shop. Opal didn't even look towards the shop, intent as she was on finding Miss Sally.

Finally, she stopped in front of a small house and turned to look at us, beaming. "Here we are," she said. Then she knocked on the door.

It was opened by a young woman dressed almost entirely in black. She had a black bandanna covering most of her vividly red hair. "Opal," she said in obvious surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Opal seemed confused. "Liza?" she asked. "Wh…Why are you at Miss Sally's house? Did something happen?"

Sadness crossed Liza's face. "You don't know," she said. "Of course you don't know. How could you have?"

"Know what?" asked Opal, concern growing on her face. "Liza, what's wrong? Why are you so sad-looking?"

Liza reached a hand out and laid it on Opal's forearm. "Opal…Miss Sally isn't here anymore. She passed away last week."

And Opal's little chocolate face crumpled.


Hi again, everyone! I'm so sorry I took so long to upload this chaper; I really didn't mean to. But, well, I guess it's here now.

Thank you so much for the reviews. It was amazing to see them, and a real confidence booster! Thanks a whole ton.

So until next time (hopefully not so far off...), may all the bodies of the heavens watch over you.