The book's spine creaks as Moanna opens it; she is sitting cross-legged on her bed in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. The book is soft and familiar in her hands, and she is sure no one will interrupt her while she looks through it this time.
Slants of moonlight fall into her room, giving her just enough light for her to not have to get a candle. She turns a few pages for no reason she can think of, and stares at a page of old parchment, waiting for something to appear.
Lines of ink crawl on the paper, and form into words. "The Faun..." Her heart quickens, and she gulps as the words make themselves known.
"The Faun is..."
"He is what, he is what?" she asks aloud, impatient. The ink lines slow down, and then stop all together, until the page simply reads, "The Faun is".
Moanna slams the book shut, and then winces. Such uselessness! she thinks angrily. I thought the Book of Crossroads would help me with such a difficult situation as this. She sighs, and gets up to put the book on the shelf. Before she can, a buzzing sound comes next to her ear. She whirls around, and sees one of the Faun's faerie pets.
"Hello," she says. "I don't suppose you'd know how to make this book work, would you?"
The faerie gives her a grin which she reads as: I haven't a clue.
"How useless," she says under her breath, and then adds quickly, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean any disrespect...I'm just angry, that's all."
The faerie gives her another devilish grin, its wings buzzing like a bee's, a gleam in its glittering black eyes. It flies closer to her and lands on her shoulder, tugging at her ear.
"What?" Moanna says wearily. "Please, it's too late for games. I'm tired." The faerie tugs harder on her earlobe, making her grimace. "All right! Take me to wherever you want," she says. Then, all at once, Moanna understands. "You're taking me to the Faun, aren't you?"
The tugs on her ear cease, and the faerie nods, still grinning. It whizzes quickly out the door, and, sighing, Moanna follows.