"So," Erinn began, wringing her hands. "When Dad was in Stornway, people used to call him the Inncredible Inntertainer?"

Patty folded her arms and nodded.

"You better believe it, honey! He was the best of the best! He was only a young guy back then, but he set up his own inn from scratch and totally put his rivals out of business!"

"Goodness! I can't imagine him ever being like that. He was always so unadventurous, and he said he was happy to run even the smallest of inns as long as we were together."

"Yeah," Patty rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "That's the thing. Why would a guy like Edwinn choose to ship out to a hick town like this?"

Lyra bristled – she was fairly sure that the word 'hick' meant rural or unsophisticated. While it was somewhat true, to be fair, she still felt it was an entirely unnecessary thing to say. Erinn fidgeted, clearly sharing her discomfort and looking like she was doing her utmost not to flee. Seeming to realise that she was the cause for such awkwardness, Patty grimaced and continued speaking.

"Well, I guess that's water under the bridge. Anyway, his place in Stornway's in real trouble right now. We were all kinda hoping the Inncredible Inntertainer would make a comeback and get things back on track. I just can't believe I didn't know he died two years ago. I mean, gee! I'm sorry, honey."

"Not at all," Erinn was once again glad of the change of subject. "I'm just sorry you came all this way for nothing."

"Hey, no apology needed. I mean, I still got to meet you, didn't I?" At first, it sounded like a compliment, but her next words proved that it most certainly wasn't. "You're coming back with me to Stornway."

Erinn blinked, then took a nervous step back.

"Um…I'm…I'm afraid that's not possible. I have my hands full with this place as it is, and I find it hard to believe that my dad was some kind of legendary innkeeper."

"Hard to believe?!" Patty was slack-jawed for a moment. "You can't argue with the facts, honey!"

At this, Erinn suddenly took on a business-like manner.

"Oh, it's really late and I should be going home. Excuse me." She walked briskly to the door, but paused. "And I can't come with you to Stornway, so stop trying to talk me into it!"

Lyra winced as the door slammed shut behind her. Patty, however, was unfazed.

"A stubborn one, huh? Don't worry, sweetie – you'll see sense before long!"

Having no bright ideas as to what to do with herself, Lyra decided to go back to the house and rest, as Patty's outgoing personality made her a bit uncomfortable and, frankly, she didn't want to spend any more time around this woman than was absolutely necessary. Walking wasn't too much of a problem, and she felt a bit better already, but her joints still smarted when she moved them too suddenly, plus her back hadn't stopped hurting yet. At least she didn't limp, though.

As she approached the house, she slowed to a halt, frowning. A ghost lingered just outside the front door, shifting worriedly and looking as if he wanted to check what was happening inside. Quickly scanning the immediate vicinity, and finding that there wasn't anyone about, Lyra approached.

"Hello," she began.

"Waaaah!"

The ghost whirled round and ended up in a strange position, much like Ivor had done. Then he relaxed.

"You gave me a fright! Don't do that!"

"Sorry."

"Wait…" His eyes widened. "You can see me?! But I'm dead!"

"Hey," Lyra cut in, noticing the familiar satchel at his hip. "I know you. You were in the Hexagon." He nodded.

"Yes, I had a feeling you saw me. That's a strange talent you have there. Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Edwinn, Erinn's father. I fell ill and died quite suddenly two years ago. But, as you can see, I haven't been able to move on from this mortal plane. And you are…?"

"My name is Lyra."

Edwinn gawped.

"R-Really? But isn't that…? Aren't you the village Guardian?"

Her breath caught – someone who wouldn't think she was insane for claiming that title? However, she wasn't given an opportunity to sing songs of praise, or even smile for that matter, as someone shouted from a short distance away,

"Hang on a minute!"

Lyra had time to frown in confusion before an impact punched the air from her lungs, making her stumble. A moment later, she was rubbing her smarting ribs and staring at the thing that had hit her: a caramel-skinned faerie with golden blonde curls and lively brown eyes. She wore a top that seemed to be made of orange frills, and on her lower half, black stockings that came up to the middle of her thighs.

"Ouch!" she complained, rubbing her arm. "Watch where you're flapping standing! I may be skinny as a rake, but I still need some room for manoeuvres!"

While Edwinn gawped at her, Lyra winced, staring at the bright pink insect-like wings on her back, somewhere between butterfly and dragonfly. The Celestrian's eyes stung, and she unconsciously flexed her shoulders, hoping she'd find her own wings there, but of course they weren't.

"Never mind," the faerie continued. "I forgive you." She turned to Edwinn. "So, old man, what's this rubbish you were just sprouting?"

"Um…" He seemed at a loss for words. "I don't…"

The faerie sighed irritably.

"You were on about Celestrians, right? Well, this mess of a minstrel hardly foots the bill. I don't see a halo, do you? And I don't see any wings either. A bit odd for a Celestrian, don't you think?"

"I suppose you're right," Edwinn admitted. "But, while we're on the subject of odd, who and what are you?"

"Ha!" the faerie chortled. "Wouldn't you like to know? Actually, I suppose you would, wouldn't you? Wait for it…"

She assumed a model-like pose.

"I'm the supreme, stupendous Stella, stunning skipper of the sky-roaring Starflight Express! Ta daa!"

Crickets chirped and an owl hooted somewhere.

"Um," Edwinn said. "I…see."

"Right, then," Stella turned to a gawking Lyra. "Your turn. Time to fly your true colours and tell us who you really are."

"But it's true!" She was embarrassed to find that her voice had devolved into an annoying whine. "The Observatory was attacked by beams of light, and I fell. When I woke up, my wings and halo were gone."

Stella raised a plucked eyebrow in scepticism.

"Sounds like a bit of a tall yarn, if you ask me. If you lost your wings and halo, how come you can still see ghosts and the like? A bit neither here nor there, isn't it?"

"My wings allowed me to fly," Lyra insisted. "My halo kept me invisible to mortals. That's all that has changed, I swear!"

She wasn't entirely sure why she was being such a baby, though decided it wouldn't matter unless she kept doing it, and bit her lip before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. Stella frowned in thought, then smiled.

"I know! If you think you're really a Celestrian, then prove it. Send someone's spirit up to the heavens. You've got nothing to lose, and this old bloke here is in need of a shove in the righteous direction."

Edwinn bridled slightly.

"What do you mean? Well, I'm not exactly happy as I am, but…"

"Let me guess. You're only a ghost because you have some unfinished business to be put to sleep, right?"

Stella turned to the thoroughly confused Celestrian.

"Come on then, 'Lyra'. Help this spook here tie up his loose ends and send him on his way. You do that, and I might just give you a lift to the Observatory in the old Starflight Express."

Lyra inhaled sharply. She could go home? But the Starflight had looked a little worse for wear when she found it. Could Stella really get it to work? Well, she supposed that having a friend who wouldn't think she was insane for claiming to be a Guardian was certainly better than none, so she elected to carry out this favour regardless of getting home or not. Plus she liked the idea of helping Edwinn to rest in peace.

"Oh," Stella added, fluttering closer. "By the way, I'll be tabbing along to make sure you do this legit!"

She then turned into a pink light, the size of a candle flame, and settled in one of Lyra's hip pouches. Shrugging, the Celestrian looked at Edwinn, who was scratching his head.

"Well, this is all very strange. But I do appreciate your willingness to help."

"It's no problem. But do you have any idea why you have not moved on?"

"Hm…maybe it has something to do with that thing I buried behind the inn. I believe it was under a bush."

Lyra nodded, and tried jogging a few feet across the bridge. The stabbing pain in her joints almost knocked her over, but she kept balance and rode it out, as it had lessened considerably by the time she reached her destination. Hey, the healer in the Observatory had always said to keep using injured limbs, to make sure they repaired themselves properly. It was especially true for Celestrians, due to their healing factor, which was accelerated by mortal standards, and damaged muscles that weren't under constant use could easily become stiff and weak. Lyra winced as her shoulder joined in. Yes, she knew what she had to do, but that didn't mean she had to be ecstatic about it.

Fortunately, the 'thing' that Edwinn had buried wasn't too hard to find, as there was a single bush and only a fine layer of dirt covered the object. Lyra dug it halfway out of the ground, then yanked and sat down with a bump, holding an earth-covered trophy about half her height. She wiped off the worst of the dirt so that it looked presentable, then dutifully returned to Edwinn with it.

"That's it!" he said upon seeing the trophy. "That's my Inny! Goodness, that takes me back a bit. The truth is, I hid it when I came to Angel Falls. I didn't want Erinn to know, and I didn't want to spend my life here being reminded of Stornway…"

That was quite understandable.

"Erinn's been asked to become innkeeper at your old place," Lyra said, hefting the trophy. "Do you think I should show this to her?"

"I don't see why not. I wonder how she'll react."

Nodding to him, she held the door open with her foot and let herself into the house. It was a bit of a struggle to climb the stairs with her injuries and while holding the massive Inny, but she got there eventually, and knocked on Erinn's door.

"Who is it?" said a small voice from within.

"It's Lyra. I have something to show you."

"Okay. Come on in."

Erinn's bedroom was small, neat, and very much like the person it belonged to, from the white curtains to the soft, spotless bedclothes. Erinn herself was seated at a desk in one corner, where she seemed to have been reading, though neither of the two books there were open.

"What's that?" she asked, staring at the trophy.

"It belonged to your father," Lyra explained as she handed it to her. She peered at the inscription.

"An award for being an Inncredible Inntertainer…from the king of Stornway…I don't believe it! Patty's story was all true!"

She frowned.

"I don't understand, though. Why would Dad have given all that up to come here to sleepy old Angel Falls?"

"I may be able to shed a little light on that," said a voice from the doorway.

"Grandpa?" Erinn said questioningly as the old man approached them. He sighed, then began to explain.

"Edwinn made me promise not to say anything, so I've kept it a secret all these years, but I don't see that it matters anymore. Dear Erinn…you must remember how sickly you were as a child. Your poor mother was the same. In the normal course of things, you would have become sicker and sicker as you got older. Eventually, you would have died. We lost your mother at a young age to the same fate."

"But I'm perfectly healthy," She glanced at Lyra. "I barely even remember being sick anymore."

"That's because you were brought up on the water from the falls here in this village. Angel Falls' water is famous for making people healthy and curing their ills."

Realisation began to dawn on the girl's face.

"So…what you're saying is that Dad gave up his inn in Stornway and came back here for my sake?"

"That's right," the old man nodded. "Saving his daughter was far more important to him than his own ambitions."

"But that's terrible! I stood in the way of my father and his dreams!"

The old man sighed again.

"He knew you'd feel that way. That's why he didn't want you to know. But you're mature enough now to be told the truth."

Erinn looked at the floor, biting her lip.

"You know, I always wondered why he sometimes had that faraway look on his face. Now I know… He did all that for me…"

She blinked, then stood up straight and turned to Lyra.

"Um, it looks like I'll be leaving for Stornway. I don't know if I can be of any help to Patty, but I have to at least try."

After stowing the Inny in a leather knapsack and slinging it over her shoulder, she exited the room, and ten seconds later Lyra spotted her on her way to the inn, likely to tell Patty the news.

"Well," her grandfather mused. "That was a bombshell and a half!"

Lyra smiled, and decided to go check on Edwinn. She didn't have to go far, however, as he had entered the house and was loitering by the stairs. Stella appeared next to them.

"You there, granddad?"

"I'm here," he replied. "I heard everything. I can't believe Erinn is going to follow my ambition in my place. She really has grown up. Now I have no regrets."

He looked down at his feet, which had started to become translucent.

"It looks like I'm ready to leave." He turned his eyes up, to Lyra. "Thank you so much, my honoured Guardian."

And then he wavered out of existence. Stella blinked.

"He's gone!"

Lyra nodded, and the faerie put her hands on her hips.

"So, you are a Celestrian after all. Well, a promise is a promise. I'll give you a ride back to the Observatory like we agreed, so say thanks to your lucky stars!"

She did say thanks to her lucky stars. She said thanks to every star in the sky, in fact. In a matter of hours, she'd be back at home, where she belonged. The thought had her buzzing with excitement, and with relief; not only could she return home, but she could make sure of the safety of those she cared about. Her mother, her brother, her master – she would soon know that they were safe. But then Stella kept on talking.

"Hang on to your horses a minute…shouldn't you be picking up that benevolessence?"

She tapped the floor with the toe of her red shoe.

"You can flapping see it, can't you?"

Frowning, Lyra knelt on the floor and scrabbled around, hoping she'd find the invisible benevolessence, but it seemed that not only her ability to see it was gone; it was lost to her, so much so that had she not known it was there, she'd have been totally ignorant. Like a mortal.

"I…" she stammered. "I…I can't see it. I don't know where it is."

Biting a gloss-covered lip, Stella tapped her high heels together.

"Now I'm starting to wonder again – are you really a Celestrian, or are you just pulling my chain?"

It wasn't until a good few days later that everything was prepared, and even then they had to wait for the landslide to be cleared. Once she'd finished packing and the horse and cart had pulled up by the gates, Erinn stood outside the inn with Patty, who was lucky enough to have been visited by a stranded priest that fixed her leg with a spell. Facing them were Lyra and the old man, with Ivor hanging around by a tree.

"I'll miss you, grandpa," Erinn said, holding her rucksack. "You'll take care of yourself, won't you?"

"You too, dear," he replied. "Just make sure you don't go working yourself sick."

"I know you're worried about her," Patty assured him, draping an arm around the girl's shoulder. "But I'm gonna be around to help her out, so you just relax, okay?"

Erinn tilted her head slightly as her gaze fell on the wingless Celestrian.

"Lyra, I can't thank you enough for all that you've done. It's amazing how you managed to find Dad's trophy like that. You really are a mystery. I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be our village Guardian after all…"

She shook her head, giggling.

"Oh, listen to me and my wild imagination! I suppose you'll be heading off to your hometown now, will you? If you find yourself in Stornway on the journey, make sure you come and stay at my new inn, won't you?"

"Of course," Lyra nodded. "I promise."

"Thanks. Well, we'd better get going, then. Goodbye everyone. And thank you all for everything!"

She and Patty stepped up into the cart, and as it trundled off through the gates, Erinn turned and waved. Lyra waved back, content that she'd made someone happy. Well, for all her bad decisions and lack of planning, things had turned out alright, hadn't they? She'd rescued Patty and sent Edwinn up to heaven, all while keeping the villagers from harm. It occurred to her that, under Aquila's steely gaze, she'd never have been allowed to get so hands on with helping mortals. In fact, the loss of her halo had actually made this easier, as she could speak to people directly, and as such, directly give them aid. But her wings were another matter entirely. She didn't think she'd ever quite get over their loss. Breaking the moment, Stella appeared from her pocket.

"Time for us to make some tracks too. You remember where the Starflight Express is?"

"Mh-hm," Lyra said, trying to appear that she was in thought, since only she could see Stella, and she didn't want everyone thinking she was mad for talking to herself.

"Come on, then. Let's head for the pass!"

During the few days of rest Lyra had granted herself, her injuries had mostly healed and getting around was no longer a problem, aside from sudden, jerky movements, which could easily be avoided. She could have gotten on the carriage with Patty and Erinn, but ultimately decided she needed to walk at her own pace, plus there was a possibility of awkward questions if she suddenly got off for no known reason. And, yes, she could have used a horse, but if the Starflight was working then she'd have to leave the poor thing in the middle of the woods with monsters about, and she wasn't prepared to do that.

It took half an hour to get there, but thankfully the Starflight was still where Lyra had seen it last, so she wouldn't have to faff around looking for it. However, it still looked a bit miserable with its white hue, plus there were scorch marks from when it fell, though Stella didn't seem to notice or care.

"All aboard!" she said cheerily as she popped up next to Lyra. Then the door miraculously opened for her, and they entered.

The inside, while dim and dull, was made of a faded bronze metal-like substance that didn't share the paleness of the outside, which confused Lyra slightly, though she decided to ignore it. At the front end of the carriage was a control panel of some kind with levers and dials, and a dozen buttons that she couldn't begin to guess the reason for.

"Pretty swish, isn't she?" Stella boasted. Then she began to look thoughtful. "I'd like to jazz her up a bit, actually. It's still a bit on the plain side in here, wouldn't you say?"

She rubbed her chin.

"I'm thinking pink rhinestones with gold around them. That'll really make the place look stellar, don't you think?"

Lyra shifted uncomfortably.

"I…I'm afraid I don't know what a rhinestone looks like and, uh…I'm not so good with interior design. You're talking to the wrong person."

"What?" She seemed offended. "Not bothered by my amazing ideas, are you?"

"It's not that! I'd just like to get home as soon as possible." Stella sighed.

"Fine, fine, no more hanging about. I'm pretty keen to get back to the Observatory myself."

She flapped over to the controls and rubbed her hands together, as if warming up.

"Alright then…" She raised her fist over a button. "Iiiiiiiiiiit's TAKEOFF TIME!"

She punched the button, but the Starflight shuddered and gave a sad wheeze before going still once again. For a moment, both she and Lyra were totally confused. Then she lifted a hand to her mouth in worry.

"Oh, flap. We have a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"I thought it would fly with a Celestrian on board…" She snapped her fingers. "Hey, you couldn't see that benevolessence before. That must be the problem!"

She hovered in front of Lyra, arms folded.

"I mean, your story's a bit tough to swallow, isn't it? Losing your wings and halo? That's a bit much."

Lyra bit a trembling lip. She'd had quite enough of people not believing her story and telling her she was a liar, no matter how indirectly. Plus they refused to even consider that fact that she'd lost something dear to her, and that she was only traumatised because of her 'fall' in the village. That's right – everyone had come to the conclusion that she'd arrived after taking a tumble over the waterfall. While getting used to walking again, she'd noticed a small crater on the riverbed, which presumably was where she had landed after falling from over a mile straight down. In all honesty, it was a surprise that no one felt the impact, much less noticed it. Breathing out, she took off her cuirass, turned round and pulled her tunic up over her head.

"H-Hey!" Stella fluttered backwards in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you proof," Lyra said grimly, showing the faerie her back. "How does it look?"

Stella's horrified silence, and the way she unconsciously reached for her wings, was all the answer required. Lyra put her clothes back on. She supposed that she was being unkind to the villagers for not seeing the crater; it was likely that she had washed ashore and they were focused on her rather than the bloody water. That would make sense.

"Okay," Stella exhaled. "I believe you. Sorry. But still, we can't afford to waste time like this. The Almighty won't be best pleased if we hang around here when big stuff's going on."

Seemingly over Lyra's injuries, she looked up at the ceiling.

"Ooooooiiii, Almighty matey! You listening? We're in a right old gherkin here, so why don't you give us a flapping hand?!"

Utter silence.

"That's weird. He's probably busy or something… Alright, Lyra. Here's what we'll do: we'll follow the road to this Stornway place. When we get there, we'll help lots of people and get loads of benevolessence. That should make that Almighty oaf prick his eyes up!"

"I…" Lyra fidgeted. "I suppose."

"What's with the expression? Not too swayed over by the idea or something?"

Stella folded her arms smugly.

"Well, tough turkey! I've decided that's what we're doing, so get moving!"