Aunt Pol came storming back to the farm with an extremely angry expression on her face; though besides her blazing eyes and the thin line that was her mouth, she looked quite normal (no one on the farm saw any sign of a broomstick or green makeup, nor did they hear a single note of the song; however, they did know that she went chasing after Rand). Seeing her face, the children decided wisely that now was not really a very good time to be around her, so they left to go to one of their usual hangouts.

Aunt Pol's foul mood persisted for much of that day, and no one on the farm even dared to say anything about or do anything to suggest that things weren't abosulutely normal, though the talk at dinner that evening was a bit subdued. The next day, however, dawned clear and bright, and things went back to normal at Faldor's farm. They would have stayed that way, too, if not for what happened a few weeks later. It's a shame, really. Someone just really wants to complicate things for poor Garion. (Now I wonder who that could possibly be…)

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You'd best be a bit more careful, Sparhawk, or I'm going to break your nose!"

"You already did that once before. Wasn't that enough?" Sparhawk laughed.

"Maybe," Kalten replied, hefting his practice sword as he got ready to strike once more.

Sparhawk grinned and prepared himself for the blow. He'd been going easy, but then again so had Kalten. This was a practice round, after all, but perhaps it was time to take it up a notch, just for fun…

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ehlana sighed as she looked out the window down at Sparhawk and Kalten. "Why must they insist on doing that?" she wondered aloud, not really expecting an answer.

"They're men, your Majesty," Alean said. "You must allow them to play with their little toys every now and then, or else they can become quite disgruntled."

"I suppose you're right," Ehlana said as she turned back to her work. She sighed again as she began to read another proposal from the merchants in Cimurra.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rand was falling through the air. The only thing he had time see was the darkened night sky before he landed on top of a sand dune and began to roll down the side of it. He stood up and began to brush himself off. There was a strange smell on the air, like that of a strong spice, though he had never before smelled anything quite like it.

He looked at his surroundings and saw desert all around him, mile after mile, for as far as the eye could see, broken here and there only by a ridge or two and some rocks. The stars overhead were strange, so he was unable to get his bearings and a sense of direction. On top of that, there was no sign anywhere of any oases, nor was there even the slightest hint of a water source, and the night air was warm and very dry.

Just great, he thought to himself. I would have been better off in that other place. Then he remembered Aunt Pol. "Well, at least I'm free from that scary witch-woman"he said, which was just about the only pleasant thought he could come up with about being stuck in this horrible place (it's a good thing that there was no one from Bel/Mal around to hear him say that).

Rand sighed and picked a direction at random, hoping that if he walked far enough he might stumble onto some type of civilization. Stumble he did, indeed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Cheer up, Pippin," Merry said. "It's bound to get better sooner or later."

"Just go away and leave me alone," Pippin said as he got up and strode back to the bar to get another beer.

"Jeez. What's wrong with him this time?" Sam asked from across the table.

"Who knows?" replied Merry. "He gets himself into so much trouble that you never can tell what he's gone and gotten himself into at any one point in time."

"Seems to me that you could be describing two people I know," Frodo said, grinning.

"Shut up there, mister high-and-mighty Baggins. Just because you don't know how to have fun doesn't mean that you can sit there and lecture-"

"Oh, fun, is it? Going around and getting yourselves into all sorts of trouble, eh? I guess I just didn't know that that's what it was called."

"Hey! We don't get into trouble all the time, and half the times we are in trouble it's just because some idiot doesn't understand the definition of the word 'joke.' And anyway, the whole point behind o-"

"Quiet," Sam said. At first Merry and Frodo thought that Pippin was returning, but then they saw that there was a crowd gathered around the door.

"What's going on?" Frodo asked.

"I don't know. Old man Toole came in and started talking real fast. He seems on the verge of hysterics."

"Well, do you think maybe we should go see what it is, then?" Merry said.

"I think we should wait a bit. That crowd is pretty thick over there, and poor Toole seems a little overwhelmed right now, but perhaps if we keep quiet we may be able to hear something."

The hobbits sat there with their drinks, not saying much, and hardly noticing Pippin when he sat back down next to Merry. Merry, whispering softly, told Pippin what was going on. As they sat there, Pippin soon lost interest in his own foul mood and was overcome with curiosity. All four of them decided that it must be something fairly serious because the crowd would have dispersed a long time ago if it was nothing that bad.

Finally, the crowd began to follow old Toole outside, and our four favorite hobbits decided to do the same, hoping to discover what was afoot. They worked their way through to the front of the crowd so they could listen to the conversation between Toole and the barkeep. From what they could gather, Toole had been playing catch with some of his grandchildren when a very peculiar thing happened.

"The ball just disappeared, you say?"

"Yes. Just right vanished there in the middle of the air. Never saw anything like it in my life," Toole said. He stopped suddenly in the middle of a small field just outside the village.

"I don't see anything," the barkeep said.

"It's right there, just a few feet in front of you," Toole replied. Then they all saw it. Right there, in the middle of the field, there was a faint shimmer in the air. It was transparent, but it looked as if the air at that spot was somehow distorted. The barkeep went over to it and touched it. The crowd watched in amazement as his entire arm vanished. A startled barman quickly withdrew his arm.

"Well, I never…" he said, looking down at his hand in alarm. Then he turned and faced the gathered throng. "I think we should keep people away from this until we can figure out what exactly it is." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Well, duh," Pippin said. "You'd have to be an idiot not to see that answer coming."

"Be quiet," Merry said.

The crowd began to disperse at that point and everyone went on their way, either home or back to the Green Dragon.

"I think we should go," Frodo said. The other agreed. As they walked away Frodo looked over his shoulder to look at the thing again. He felt a strange pull coming from it, almost as if it were calling to him.