A Land Without Magic

by Model Builder

Two years after the abrupt defeat of You-Know-Who in the UK, the American Wizarding Community's sense of complacency was shattered by an event known as the 10/22/83 Maine Incursion. Who are the Invaders from the Enchanted Realms and what do they want? And will a ten-year-old muggle boy who claims to have been inside the Incursion be able to answer these and other questions?

16. Pieces of the Puzzle

Chapter 16: Pieces of the Puzzle

"Something on your mind, Preppie?" said Special Agent Juliet Lockhart to her trainee Tabitha Stephens. It had been Juliet's turn to cook lunch, and she had made tamales, Spanish rice, refried beans and taco chips with salsa, all from scratch. Cooking was something of a hobby of hers, and she had made the same dish for the two of them as a celebratory meal for when their MADS Network station was brought back online. It had been almost ten days since the new enchanted maps (that had been hardened to withstand the punishment of another, similar incursion,) had been delivered just a few days after the arrival of the 10-22-1983 Incursion from the Enchanted Realms had ended life in the Wizarding World as they had known it.

"Ma'am," said Tabitha. "There is something that I would like to talk with you about that I have had on my mind for the past couple of days, now."

Agent Lockhart had been expecting this; it was only a matter of when her pretty, young trainee would give in to her inner groupie and work up the nerve to ask her. Agent Lockhart gave a weary sigh, rolled her eyes, and said, "Yes, Tabitha. Gildroy Lockhart is related to me. He is my nephew. And, no, I will not introduce you to him. There is something about that boy that is not quite right. Besides, if you believe half of what they print in the gossip rags, he eats pretty little witches like you for breakfast."

"Actually, Ma'am, he really isn't my type," said Tabitha. Besides, even if I did want to meet him, my grandma told me that she had already spoken to Mr. Lockhart, and told him that if he ever came within a hundred yards of me, that he would spend the next fifty years as a cockroach . . . .

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said Agent Lockhart. "Shows me that you have a lot more good sense than I originally thought you had, Preppie."

"Well, you might not think that of me when I tell you what I have to say, next." Tabitha set down her fork, took a drink of Pepsi to moisten her suddenly dry throat, and said, "Do you remember when it was my turn to do the shopping a few days ago? Well, I also followed up on a hunch, and sort of made a little . . . side trip . . . ."

Now Agent Lockhart set down her fork, too, wiped her mouth with her napkin, and said in a chillingly (or so it seemed to Tabitha,) neutral tone, "Go on, please."

Tabitha told her Supervisor about her unauthorized visit to the Children's' Group Home in Boston, and about meeting the two children that had been found at a roadside diner on the night of the Incursion; a seven-year-old boy named August and a newborn baby girl named Emma, and what she found out when she spoke with the boy. Tabitha also described the clothes that the boy had been wearing when he was found, the boy's lost baby tooth, and the blood stains on the blanket that Emma had been wrapped in.

"I called in a favor with an old friend," continued Tabitha. "I sent the boy's tooth and some blood-stained threads from the blanket to a friend of mine who works at Quest Laboratories. Well, I got the results back this morning. For starters, my friend told me that there was no Strontium-90 in the boy's tooth; which means that the tooth came from someone who was born prior to 1945. But that is impossible, since the tooth still had live cells on it . . . ."

Agent Lockhart nodded. "Please go on."

"The blood on the blanket was not from baby Emma, thank G-d," said Tabitha. "According to my friend, analysis showed that it came from a man in his late 20's or early 30's; and that she had a really hard time typing it." Agent Lockhart nodded, and Tabitha continued. "Basically, it's O-Positive, or rather, O-Positive would work if this poor guy needed a transfusion. But the surface antigens were not . . . typical . . . ."

Agent Lockhart went to the phone and contacted FBS Headquarters, giving them a summary of what her trainee had told her. Then she set the phone back on the cradle, and said, "They want to speak with you in Salem, ASAP, Trainee Agent Stephens. You'll need to drive yourself to the Floo Hearth Station and go straight to FBS Headquarters.

"They are interested in what you found out, but know this: you are in trouble - regardless of how useful what you have discovered may prove to be." Then Agent Lockhart softened a bit, and said, "I will not be able to go with you, Preppie. But I do wish you luck, and if they ask me my opinion of your performance, I intend to let them know that, despite what you took it upon yourself to do, that you definitely have the makings of a fine Auror."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Agent Lockhart nodded. "I look forward to your return. Please don't disappoint me . . . ."

When Tabitha Stephens arrived at FBS Headquarters, she was instructed to go to a waiting room, where she was to remain until she was called. It never failed to amaze Tabitha how waiting rooms in Wizarding buildings were not too different from those in Muggle buildings. There were tables, chairs, vending machines and magazines that were months, if not years, out of date; though the magazines here included Wizarding publications as well as muggle ones. And she doubted very much that the vending machines in muggle waiting rooms sold Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans alongside Hershey Bars.

Fortunately, Tabitha did not have to wait too long before she was called. Less than fifteen minutes after she took a seat, Director DeMarigny's Secretary, Mrs. Marilyn Matheson, came in and asked Tabitha to follow her to the main conference room. Miss Matheson was an attractive blonde woman in her late 30's, and though Tabitha had never met the woman before, she knew who she was by reputation.

Before she was Director DeMarigny's secretary, Marilyn Matheson (nee Munster,) had made the news in the Wizarding World at quite a young age. She was born into an old, pureblood family, who were attempting to place her up for adoption when it was discovered that she was a squib. But before this could happen, her Uncle Herman and Aunt Lily stepped in and said that they would adopt and raise her. "You don't throw away family," her Aunt Lily was quoted as saying to the reporter from the Towne Scryer. Later, when her cousin Edward was born, she became a virtual big sister to him; something that the boy really needed when it was discovered that he was a werewolf, and also faced ostracism within the Wizarding World.

Tabitha had read up on Marilyn Munster's story with great interest when she was told that for a short time, her little brother Adam was thought to be a squib, and that the local Witches' Council wanted him placed up for adoption, even though their father was a muggle. But before anything bad could happen, Adam did demonstrate magical abilities - though nothing anywhere close to those of their immediate family.

So while Tabitha had been educated at Hogwarts, Adam went to the local muggle schools, and received magical education at home. (Adam liked to joke to his sister that he had to take the "short broom" to his magic lessons.) But he did improve to the point that this coming June, Adam would be going to stay with a wizarding family in Brazil for a few weeks who would tutor him in magic over the summer break. Tabitha could not be more proud of her little brother.

Of course, Adam was not exactly her "little" brother, anymore; he was almost three inches taller than she was when she last saw him the day she returned home from Hogwarts. He was probably even taller than that, by now. But while Adam no longer worried that he would be a washout rather than a warlock, Tabitha knew that he was still nervous about the events of the past few weeks. Most people in their world were. But she did not realize just how nervous her brother was until her mom told her a few days ago that he had asked to be shown how to cast an Avada Kedavra curse. And when their mom (and grandmother, and Uncle Arthur,) not only absolutely refused but managed to dissuade him from the idea; Adam then asked their muggle father if they could buy a gun and take shooting lessons together.

But if Tabitha's 13 year old brother was scared, then so were the wizards and witches of the FBS waiting in the conference room that she had just entered. And while Adam Stephens' fear was largely of the unknown, the fear of those in this room came from knowing too much.

The conference room was wood-paneled and simply furnished with a long, oak table and chairs. Brass nameplates on the table in front of each chair were enchanted to display the names of the people who sat in them. A large, crystal ball sat in the center of the table and a muggle stenographic machine was positioned at the place next to the Director's seat. Mrs. Matheson escorted Tabitha into the room and to her seat, and then the Director's Secretary took her seat next to Director DeMarigny, at the chair in front of the stenograph machine.

Tabitha quickly took stock of everyone at the table. There were the Addams siblings; Pugsley, who wore an expensive, handmade business suit, and his younger sister, Wednesday, in a classically-styled Gothic dress made by Free House Elves. Though Tabitha was considered to be very attractive herself by muggle standards, there were times that she envied Wednesday's Classic Wizarding World attractiveness. The Addams siblings' mother, the former Morticia Frump, had been a very famous fashion model in her younger days before marrying the dashing Gomez Addams. Tabitha felt very self-conscious sitting across from these two in her discount store-brand jeans and sneakers and a sweatshirt emblazoned with the crest of Hufflepuff House.

The famous Hadji Quest-Singh – the only known pureblooded wizard to be raised in a muggle family- sat next to her. Though his smile was friendly and supportive, he cut an imposing figure in his outfit proper for one of his faith following the Five K's. On Hadji's other side was his brother; the only muggle in the room. Though Tabitha had never met Dr. Johnathan Quest until now, she knew of him by reputation. The white-haired Dr. Quest wore a Brooks Brothers three-piece suit, but with a clean, tailored lab coat in place of the jacket.

As for the other three agents sitting at the table, she did not recognize them, but she did recognize the surnames of the two well-dressed wizards and the smartly-dressed witch on the brass plates in front of them: Halliwell, Garwin and Spellman. Though Tabitha did not take a look at her own name plate, she knew that the moment she sat down, the enchanted brass plate displayed the name "Stephens."

After a long, excruciating moment of silence, Director DeMarigny said, "Hello, Miss Stephens. You know, the last time I saw you; you couldn't have been any older than six. I was a field agent at that time and was assigned to investigate your violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. Something about covering yourself and a muggle friend with polka-dots during a Christmas Eve sleepover . . . ?" Tabitha blushed as those around the table chuckled, though not mockingly.

"Sir, I would like to say . . . ," began Tabitha. But Director DeMarigny held up his hand for silence.

"I would ask you how your mother and grandmother are," continued Director DeMarigny. "But there is no need. I just saw them a few moments ago. Would is surprise you to know that your mother Samantha and your grandmother Endora are in the lower-level waiting room with your younger brother Adam and your father Derwood?"

"With all due respect, Director, my father's name is Darin . . . ."

"Darin . . . ?" said Director DeMarigny, clearly puzzled. "But your grandmother just told me . . . oh, never mind. In any case, they said that they want to see you after your evaluation hearing. And if I may be absolutely blunt, there is a chance that you may be going home with them. You are in trouble, young lady. Aurors have to follow orders. I'm sure that you know that.

"Now, your supervisor, Agent Lockhart, did speak highly of you to us. She told us the basics of what you had done and what you found out as a result. We would like to hear what you have to say, in your own words."

"I was at the MADS station when I saw the first, small incursions before the Big One hit. When I read about the two children who were found on the night of the Incursion by the muggle police at a diner not far from where the smaller incursions were detected, I thought that it was worth investigating. And the children at the Group Home in Boston do correspond with the weight of what came through." Tabitha then described what she then did and what she found out. She described the children; the boy named August and the baby girl named Emma, and how she sent some samples he had collected to be analyzed at a muggle lab that did work for the FBS from time to time, and about the results she had gotten a few hours earlier that day.

Director DeMarigny nodded. "Miss Stephens, out of curiosity, why did you decide to become an Auror to begin with?"

"Well, Director," said Tabitha. "You see, the summer when I was fourteen, my brother and I went to stay with my dad's sister, Aunt Georgia, who runs a small circus. She's a muggle." Tabitha half expected to be cut-off for bringing up something that on the surface had to seem highly irrelevant. But she continued when this did not happen. "Anyway, my brother and I discovered that an evil wizard who called himself Count Krumley, wanted to steal the circus from my aunt, but we stopped him and saved our aunt's circus. Then we called the FBS and Krumley got taken away by Aurors. I understand that he is still doing time in Miskatonic Penitentiary. I guess that's when my interest in magical law enforcement really began."

Director DeMarigny said neutrally, "And it never once occurred to you to contact the FBS to report what you had discovered before you put yourself and your then eight-year-old brother in harm's way?"

"Well, I –"

"You decided to play "Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys" before calling the FBS," said Director DeMarigny. "Miss Stephens, this self-styled "Count Krumley" was a joke as a dark wizard. Basically, he did not want to get his hands dirty; he only wanted the spoils of getting his hands dirty. As a rule, the FBS does not run into too many "dark" wizards like Krumley.

"But what if he had been a little more ruthless and amoral, or was just afraid of getting caught? Do you think that a Hogwarts Fourth Year and her kid brother could have overpowered an adult wizard with more experience if he really wanted to hurt you?

"Let's get something straight from the start: a teenaged wizard or witch is no match for an adult wizard or witch; especially one who is desperate or power-hungry. Had Krumley been more than a joke, then you and your little brother may have found yourselves either dead or transfigured into something truly horrible; you and the muggle members of your family that you were ostensibly trying to help.

"We have to deal with threats like Baron Mordo, the late and unlamented Lord Voldemort, and possibly someone like Victor von Doom. And now we have the Incursion and Lord-knows-what is within it to deal with. If we are to do this, it is important for you and every Auror in the Bureau to follow their orders to the letter.

"Now, it would have been one thing if you went on a shopping trip for your MADS station and you saw something while you were on the way there or back or even when you were shopping in the store. But you deliberately went out of your way to follow up on a dubious lead that FBS analysts had determined was no immediate threat. At least, no threat that we may be aware of . . . ."

"What do you mean, Director?" said Tabitha.

"Before you got here, we contacted the Group Home in Boston, hoping to speak with the boy to see if we could learn more. But they told us that he left the home the night before."

"You mean he went to a foster family?"

"No, we mean that he left," said Director DeMarigny. "He left – ran away, actually - with some other kids from the home that stole some money and hopped a bus. We tried a locator spell, but could not find him – Lord knows why we couldn't. My point is, if you are going to be the Rogue Hippogryph who would rather beg forgiveness than ask permission; then you need to report whatever you find out as quickly as possible. But for now, anything that the boy could have told us is off the playing field.

"As for the baby girl, you indicated that you think she might be a witch. Right now, we just don't know. We will do what we can to keep tabs on Emma Swan to see if she demonstrates any magical abilities. But until we know that she is a witch for certain, she is out of our jurisdiction.

"Now, do you have anything else to report concerning this matter, Trainee Agent Stephens?"

Tabitha's spirits rose slightly. The Director did not address her as "Miss Stephens," this time. "No, Director DeMarigny."

"Then you may return to your duties at the MADS station where you are currently assigned and needed," said Director DeMarigny. "But first, you may go downstairs to tell your family that you will not be going home with them, tonight."

"Y-you mean that I'm still with the Bureau?"

"Of course you are," said Director DeMarigny. "But this will go on your record. So from now on, follow your orders and leave the threat assessment to those with more experience in matters like this; especially now when we are spread so thin due to the Incursion." Tabitha thanked the Director and the other Aurors, and left to see her family before taking the Floo Hearth back to Boston.

When Tabitha left, Agent Quest-Singh said, "Between Trainee Agent Stephens and those other two civilian wizards, I think it might behoove us to reevaluate our protocols. First, we lost Professor Roberts, and now we've lost the little boy who obviously came from the Enchanted Realms. And for some reason, all our attempts at locator spells are not having any effect.

"And I suppose that I am on Review now, too. After all, I am the one who advised you that the small incursions detected before the Big One hit were probably unrelated. Now, we may never know."

"As you say, Agent Quest-Singh," said the Director. "We will have to reevaluate the way we do things to take the incursion into account.

"Now, on the other matter from last night, I take it that you all have seen the memories of the two wizards that we interviewed yesterday - the ones who made First Contact with Professor Roberts?" When everyone nodded, Director DeMarigny said, "Well, what does everyone think?"

Agent Wednesday Addams said, "That witch in the memory has reasonable fashion-sense, but that scar is obviously fake. However, as for her magical technique . . . I would not want to face-off against her or anyone else like her without plenty of backup; say, someone like the Sorcerer Supreme . . . ."

"I agree with my sister, Director," said Agent Pugsley Addams. "If whoever is within the Incursion has skills like the witch in the memory, then we are all in BIG trouble."

Director DeMarigny nodded. "Anyone else . . . ?"

Agent Spellman said, "I did some research on the spell that the witch in the memory used against that poor muggle. The Enchanted Heart Spell is a legendary technique that has been lost in antiquity. Until now, many wizards and witches would have told you that it was never actually a real spell, that it is just a fairy tale; something invented by Beedle the Bard or some other such storyteller. And up until now, I would have been one of them.

"Basically, what we have here is all three Unforgivable Curses all rolled into one. When you take a heart, you can use it to control its owner by speaking into it; the Imperius Curse. If you squeeze the heart gently, you can inflict severe pain on the victim; the Cruciatus Curse. And if you squeeze hard enough and crush the victim's heart to dust . . . ."

"Avada Kedavra . . . ," supplied the Director nodding. "In the course of your studies, Agent Spellman, did you happen to find any counter-curse against the Enchanted Heart Spell?"

"Not yet, Director," said Agent Spellman. "But I'm still looking. I haven't found anything in the FBS library or the library at Randolph Carter. I would like to request permission to go to Scotland to explore the library at Hogwarts. They have an extensive Dark Arts Restricted Section that may have more information. I'm even given to understand that they have a copy of the Necronomicon, but I'm handing in my resignation if you make me go anywhere near that one!"

Director DeMarigny nodded. "See me later about that, Agent Spellman; I think that your request to go to Hogwarts may be arranged." Then, changing gears, the Director said, "Now, what can you tell me about the two wizards and the witch that we interviewed yesterday? The ones who made First Contact with Professor Roberts? Does anyone here think that they may potentially be a security problem? Let's start with the British Nationals. Anyone . . . ?"

Agent Wednesday Addams said, "Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood publish a news tabloid with distribution mainly concentrated in the UK's Wizarding community called The Quibbler. They evidently fancy themselves to be our world's answer to Woodward and Bernstein. They are disappointed that they cannot publish what they found out about the Probe that was sent to the Enchanted Realms by Professor Roberts, but they seem to understand that by publishing what they know, they could easily start a panic."

"Fortunately," said Agent Pugsley Addams, picking up where his younger sister left off. "While the Lovegoods balked when told to withhold publication by the representative from the UK's Ministry of Magic, the muggle agent from MI5 was able to convince them by presenting them with something he called a "Defense Authority Notice" requesting their cooperation. The Lovegoods were as proud as peacocks when they got that! It seems to have bought their silence until they may be properly obliviated and their memories altered."

Director DeMarigny nodded. "What about Mr. Jordan? What do we know of him?"

Agent Halliwell took out a manila folder, opened it, and said, "Lawrence Jordan, AKA 'Rence Jordan, AKA Ren Jordan, is a 33 year old wizard. His family can trace its ancestry back to the Peverell family. No formal wizarding education. His previous contacts with the FBS are fairly typical. He was investigated by the Bureau when he was 10 for performing reflexive magic in front of muggles. At 13, he was cited for flying a broom in public. At 18, he received his Selective Service Notice from the Muggle Authorities, and contacted the FBS as he was supposed to do. He was subsequently reclassified from 1A to 4F.

"Then, at age 22, he reported that he revealed the existence of Our World to his muggle fiancée, Miss Agatha Price, and her family. They married shortly afterward, and had one daughter, Jennifer, currently age 10 – incidentally, she is the little girl who donated the seeing stone that she got for her birthday to the Bureau for the duration of the current crisis - and eight years later, a son, Richard, currently age two. Both the Jordans' children have magical potential."

"A seeing stone for a tenth birthday present?" said Director DeMarigny shaking his head. "And all I got for my tenth birthday was front-row tickets to a Patriots game . . . ."

After a round of polite chuckling, Agent Halliwell continued her report. "Until recently, Ren Jordan worked at the Collinsport Lumber Yard full time since he graduated from Collinsport Senior High School. He also repaired and made custom racing brooms in his spare time. A few weeks ago, the Jordan family had been among the evacuees from Collinsport, Maine, the evening of October 22. Now, the Jordans live in University City, Missouri, and Mr. Jordan will soon begin working at a local hardware store in the lumber department. Unfortunately, he will no longer be able to work on brooms because of where he lives. Also, he will not be able to use magic to make his family's life easier. For one thing, he will not be able to transfigure water into gasoline because he does not have a properly secured place outside where he may do this without the risk of being observed by his muggle neighbors.

"The bottom line is that the Jordans are on the brink of financial trouble. Even if Agatha Jordan, AKA Aggie Jordan, is able to resume work as a teacher, much of her extra income will probably go to daycare for Ricky, especially if their daughter goes off to Randolph Carter – or Hogwarts, if Mr. Jordan has his way - next year, and won't be on hand to watch her little brother after school.

"In addition, Mr. Jordan has recently submitted an application for his family to receive commodities – milk, eggs, and butter - from the local Shmoo Preserve. According to the Caseworker he spoke with, he is very unhappy and embarrassed about having to do this."

Director DeMarigny turned to the Addams Siblings, and said, "Aren't the Jordans getting any help with their rent and relocation expenses from your parent's Philanthropic Organization?"

"That," said Wednesday flatly. "Is between the Jordan family and our parents' organization." The 'With all due respect, Director,' that should have come at the beginning of her reply was conspicuously absent.

Director DeMarigny let Agent Addams' lapse go, but persisted, "Bottom line, can we trust Mr. Jordan to keep silent until he can be obliviated? There is a lot of pressure on him to want this situation resolved as soon as possible, regardless of the danger that it may pose not only for the Wizarding World, but everyone else, as well. If he gets impatient, he may just try to make what he knows about the Incursion public. For that matter, shouldn't Mr. Jordan and the Lovegoods have been obliviated already?"

"We attempted to do so, yesterday," said Agent Garwin. "But, as you know, since the Incursion, the Bureau has been spread thin. Most of our Obliviators are working in the field. We had some Agents on loan from MiB to help fill the gap. But both Mr. Jordan and the Lovegoods insisted on being ". . . properly obliviated by a Wizard or Witch with a wand who knows what they are doing, instead of by a couple of Muggles pushing a button."

"That is their right," Agent Quest-Singh reminded the Director. "More to the point, even though I probably understand muggle science better than any wizard or witch here in this room, I would want my memories modified magically, as well. For that matter, if my brother ever had to have his memory modified," Hadji nodded to John, "I would prefer that a wizard or witch be the one to do it. I don't want to sound close-minded, by I really would prefer a wand to a muggle neutralizer for something like this any day!

"In any event, I do feel that the Jordans may be trusted to keep their silence. I met them at the DWC in Boston. They are good people – albeit good people who are worried about their safety and future. But they do not strike me as being desperate enough to compromise the security of Our World. The worse thing that Mr. Jordan might be tempted to do is some water-to-gasoline transfiguration in his unsecured back yard if he finds that there is too much week at the end of his paycheck."

"Still," insisted Director DeMarigny. "Financial pressure on the Jordans is a wild card that we cannot have in the equation. Are there any openings in the Bureau that Mr. Jordan could fill that would pay enough dollars and galleons to help the family financially?" And to guarantee his silence . . . .

Agent Pugsley Addams shrugged, and said, "Without a Formal Wizarding Education, Mr. Jordan does not meet any of the Bureau's current qualifications." Pugsley made a mental note to discuss the Jordans' situation with his sister. Perhaps their family could find Mr. Jordan better employment surreptitiously that would not make him feel like he was getting a handout . . . .

Director DeMarigny turned to his Secretary, and said, "Mrs. Matheson, I want you to try and find something here for Mr. Jordan to do. You said that Mr. Jordan works on broomsticks? Maybe a job in the Bureau's broom and carpet pool? In any case, for now I feel that we should keep an eye on the Jordans and the Lovegoods.

"Now, onto the final matter; is the Washington University Interdimensional Probe cause for concern? Presumably it or what's left of it is still in the Enchanted Realms. Do we have to worry about this?"

"I seriously doubt it, Director," said Dr. Quest. "Based on what we saw in the pensieve, I don't think that the people in the Realm the probe landed in can learn anything useful from studying the Probe. They look to be at a Late Middle Ages / Early Renaissance level of technology. They would be hard-pressed to reverse-engineer Edison's first lightbulb, much less the state of the art microchip circuitry in the Wash-U Interdimensional Probe. I think that we are safe as far as the Probe is concerned . . . ."

The Evil Queen looked at the drawings made by the Draughtsman Royal of the markings on the metal box from the road, the charred remains of which were now in her deepest dungeon. Fortunately, the markings were on the side facing away from her - and from her fireball. She then handed the drawings to the representative from the College of Heralds who she had summoned earlier in the day to see what he could tell her about the strange box and its origin.

The box was obviously a mechanical device of some kind, so the Queen initially summoned all the clockmakers who lived within a day's ride from the Castle, and set them to work on the mysterious object that had blocked her path the day before. The clockmakers had studied the device for the entire day, but all that they could determine was that the box looked very purposeful; even though its exact purpose could not be determined.

Though obviously assembled by Master Craftsmen with great skill, the box was severely plain. There were no decorative engravings on the strange, metal surfaces as one might expect from master metal workers, though the box had been precisely fitted together with screws that were absolutely identical in size and shape; many with slots for tools shaped like a "+" instead of a "-."

There were some gears and cogs within the box, (though none arranged as they would be in a proper clock,) that seemed to be for the purpose of moving the devices on the outside of the box in varying directions. Instead of clock springs, there were small cylinders with shafts connected to the gears that apparently drove them by means unknown. In any event, none of the clockmakers could determine what function these devices were for.

In addition to the high-quality metal, there was the other, strange material; much of it looking like candlewax that had been melted by the Queen's Fire. In feel, it resembled horn or tusk, but came in a variety of colors that would rival a rainbow. Some of the less damaged ones appeared to be fashioned in the shape of boxes that contained flat boards inlayed with thin copper lines in complex patterns in which small, strange trinkets of varying shapes and colors were set into by fine wire that came out of the trinkets themselves instead of being tied around them. Even more mysteriously, everything seemed to be connected by fine wire that went from box to box and to the devices that were mounted on the outside.

And at the very bottom of the box was an array of square containers filled with vitriol, connected to each other with thick wires covered with smooth material to lead nubs at each end. Other wires connected these containers to the other boxes. The clockmakers jumped when one of them touched two of the nubs on one container with a piece of metal, causing sparks to fly. Clearly, these containers were somehow enchanted.

That had been the initial report that the clockmakers gave to the Queen. After ripping out the heart of one of them and crushing it to dust, the Queen then sent the rest back to have another look, demanding better answers by this time, tomorrow.

The Queen then turned her attention to the representative from the College of Heralds who was intently (and nervously) studying the drawings of the symbols from the side of the box. One was a blue oval with the word "DARPA" in white letters. Another was a circle with the words "Washington University in St. Louis 1853." A Coat of Arms in the center of this circle showed a Shield, gold, with three five pointed stars, green, as charges on the field and three Fleur- de-lis, green, as charges on the Escutcheon. In the Ordinary was an open book on two horizontal stripes, red, with the Motto, "Per Veritatem Vis." Another marking below this said, "Department of Physics." But the most mysterious of the markings was a rectangle with thirteen horizontal stripes; seven red and six white, and a blue canton in the upper left hand corner that was decorated by a field of fifty white five-pointed stars.

Scowling, the Queen fixed the Herald with a stony gaze and said, "Well . . . ?"

"Y-Your Majesty . . . ," began the Herald nervously. Though members of the College of Heralds had more freedom than most in the Enchanted Realms when addressing royalty, the reputation of the Queen – the Evil Queen – was too well known. "Your Majesty, I must confess that I have no knowledge of the Coat of Arms displayed in this drawing. I can find nothing matching it in any of our records, nor am I aware of a place of learning called "Washington University in St. Louis," or the significance of the number "1853." Though the rectangular banner is obviously a flag of some sort, it is likewise not registered in any of our tomes on vexillology. And I have absolutely no idea what a "DARPA" may be."

The Queen's scowl became even more severe. Her eyes widened and a single vein stood prominently on her forehead as she took another step toward the Herald and began reaching slowly for his chest with her right hand. The Herald quickly added, "Your Majesty, it is my opinion that this Heraldry is not from a place native to our Realm. It comes from somewhere else. If I may ask, what is the provenance of these drawings . . . ?"

"The provenance," said a childish, sing-song-y voice from off to the side. "The provenance is a Land Without Magic!"

The Herald gasped. "T-the . . . The D-Dark One!"

The source of the voice, an ugly imp with skin like gold scales, smiled an ugly smile and bowed sarcastically. "That's my name, my good man! Don't wear it out!"

"Shouldn't you be in your cell, Rumpelstiltskin?" said the Evil Queen dryly. "In case you haven't realized yet, I have a situation on my hands."

"Precisely the reason I am here, Regina!" The imp laughed his irritating laugh. "To help you resolve your "situation."

"For a price, no doubt," said Regina dryly.

"Oh, everything comes with a price, Dearie! But, as luck would have it, what I may be able to tell you of this shall we say, "unusual object," is covered under our current agreement."

"How's that?" said the Queen warily.

"Let's have a looksee, shall we?" The Dark One waived his hand, and he and the Queen were enveloped in a swirling, red smoke. When the smoke cleared, they were in the dungeon room where the clockmakers were studying the object. The clockmakers froze with fear when the two most powerful practitioners of magic in all the Realms suddenly appeared in the dungeon. But before any of them could say a single word, the Dark One waived his hand yet again, and the clockmakers were enveloped in red smoke, and vanished from the room, leaving the Dark One and the Queen alone with the object.

"What did you do to them?" said Regina. "Did you destroy them?"

Rumpelstiltskin made a slightly nervous laugh. There was something about the way that the Queen said the word "destroy" that could send a shiver up even his spine. "Ah, actually, I sent them all back to their homes and workshops."

"What?"

"We don't need them, Dearie. Besides, I have something of an affinity for clockmakers, or rather, for the clocks that they make. But that is neither here nor there. The matter at hand is this . . . whatever this may be. Now, let's see what it may be able to tell us, shall we?"

Again, the Dark One waived his hand and the object was surrounded in a swirl of red smoke. When the smoke cleared, the square object had taken the shape of a metal globe that spun slowly in mid-air before them. A bright red light glowed in the middle of a continent on the globe's Northern Hemisphere, just west of a long river. "Voila! A Land Without Magic!"

The Evil Queen studied the globe. She did not recognize any of the continents. Clearly, it was another world in another realm. But she remained unimpressed. "So . . . ?"

"So, Dearie, have you forgotten what you still lack if you are to cast the Dark Curse?"

"The heart of the thing that I love the most," said the Queen impatiently. "I already know that."

"Ah. And one more little something . . . ."

"What one more little something . . . ?"

"Oh, a little something known as a destination," said the Dark One. "If you are to cast a curse that will take the kingdom elsewhere; you will need an elsewhere to go to. And now, you have one. What do you think . . . ?"

Regina studied the globe of the alien world. It was as good a place as any to find her elusive Happy Ending. She pointed to the red light on the globe; ostensibly the origin of the strange metal box. "I do not like being landlocked. Do we have to go where the light glows?"

"You may instruct the Dark Curse to take you anywhere on this world that you see fit, your Evil Queen-ness! How about . . . here?" The imp pointed casually to a place high on the continent's Eastern Seaboard.

The Evil Queen nodded slowly. "I suppose that it will do – so long as I get what I want!"

"Oh, indeed you will, Regina," chuckled the imp. "Indeed you will!" And I shall have what I want, too. Fear not, Bae! I am coming to find you . . . .