Marguerite and John spent the night in the treehouse, reminiscing about their past adventures in the Lost World. They lay on the same bench, their legs propped up on chairs, covered by a blanket, with John's head resting on Marguerite's lap. They didn't sleep; instead, they relaxed and listened to the nocturnal sounds of the jungle under a star-filled sky.

Marguerite gently ran her fingers through John's hair, and he, for his part, seemed to melt under her touch. She recalled a conversation they had long ago. She had told him, "When I think of what my life has given me here and now... I wonder what more I could possibly ask for." At that moment, she was reflecting on the small, improvised family they had formed in their treehouse and John as the love of her life. Nothing could compare to the gratitude she felt then.

Today, that gratitude had only deepened. They were married, sharing three wonderful, although mischievous children, and living a beautiful life together. Being a countess wasn't the focus at this moment, but she felt she wore the title well—after all, who better than her? She had reunited with her biological family, who had welcomed her with open arms. Ned and Veronica remained their closest friends and an extension of their family. Yes, life was indeed beautiful.

All of a sudden Marguerite's thoughts shifted and she mused aloud, "Our son is spending the night in an indigenous village with an Amazon girl. And then we wonder why our children are so wild. I blame myself as much as I blame you. I could have said 'no' a bit louder."

John challenged, "Since when you've become so strict? Our kids are fantastic. Yes, Isabelle's got a sharp tongue, and Juliette prefers rough-and-tumble play, but that's better than them being delicate like porcelain dolls. William wants nothing more than to experience the kind of life we once led. We can't blame him for that."

"Yes, that's true, but back home, it won't be you facing the music for their misbehavior, John. It will be me."

John met her gaze with a supportive look. "We'll face it together. Our children are reflections of us both, not just you."

"Your mother and aunt will point their fingers in my direction."

John couldn't resist a comment. "Then we'll let Isabelle handle them. With her sharp wit, I'm sure she can keep them at bay."

"Now that's a strategy I'd love to see." Marguerite replied and they both laughed.

John added "We can handle a few raised eyebrows and whispered criticisms. Our family, our rules."

Marguerite lightly tapped John's cheek with her hand in a mock scold. "Why are you so adorable?"

"I learned from the best."

Marguerite smiled at his words, leaned down, and kissed him, her flowing, curly hair falling around them like a drapery.

Morning arrived swiftly. They were in the middle of breakfast when a message from William reached them. Marguerite's appetite vanished instantly, as she rose from the table.

"Fantastic. Just fantastic," She said with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "I understand the thirst for adventure and a sense of justice... But to risk their lives for a troglodyte? That, I cannot fathom. What were they thinking?!"

John calmly responded. "They did the right thing. Whoever these people are, they've found a way in and out of the Lost World. We can't let them smuggle out a troglodyte and expose this place to the rest of the world. Consider the consequences."

Marguerite sighed, "Oh, I understand the consequences. But why must it always be us righting the wrongs?"

As John began to pack their weapons, Marguerite quickly cleared the breakfast table, packed food and water for their journey, and sat down to write a note for Veronica and Ned about what had transpired.

"Marguerite, I want you to go back to Avalon and stay with the girls." John said when he saw she was packing her gun as well.

"And leave you to confront five marauders by yourself? I don't think so."

"It wouldn't be the first time. But if anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

"It's our son out there. I'm coming with you."

John continued to protest, but Marguerite cut him off, her focus shifting as she aimed her gun into the distance. "Given how I'm feeling right now, no thug or murderer should dare cross my path," she declared, her voice cold and steady.


William and Thalia had been following the poachers for several hours. William had been leaving traces for his parents, carving arrows into trees as they passed by, creating a breadcrumb trail through the jungle.

The poachers had set up a temporary camp at the entrance to a cave. Four of them had gone to gather firewood, leaving one to guard the camp.

"Now's our chance. Let's go." Thalia said urgently.

Moving with caution, they crept as close to the camp as possible. The man left on guard was alert, his rifle at the ready, scanning the surroundings for any signs of intrusion.

Thalia quietly prepared a wooden blowpipe, inserting a dart laced with a sleeping potion. William, alarmed, questioned her plan, "What are you doing with that thing? Can't you see he's armed, with a real shotgun?"

Thalia shot him an annoyed look. "You're nothing like your father. Lord Roxton is brave."

"My father doesn't attack poachers with poisoned darts," William retorted.

"You have a revolver. You could kill him," Thalia countered.

"I couldn't. That would be murder," William argued.

"Fine, we'll do it this way," Thalia decided, stepping out into the open and approaching the man.

Caught off guard, the poacher was initially shocked and then oddly at ease upon realizing he was confronted by a young girl. "Hey there, little girl. What are you doing all alone in the jungle?"

Thalia remained silent.

"Can you understand me? Are you some kind of wild child?" The man asked.

In a swift motion, Thalia raised the blowpipe to her lips and fired the dart, striking him in the chest. The substance acted quickly, and he collapsed, unconscious.

William rushed to her side, disbelief coloring his words, "You're insane."

"Don't just stand there, help me!" Thalia urged.

Inside the cage was the toddler troglodyte. Its wide eyes were filled with confusion and fear. Despite its distinctly non-human features, there was an undeniable resemblance to a human child. Its small face was framed by an abundance of curly hair. The innocence in its gaze, coupled with its vulnerable state, spurred an immediate protective instinct in both William and Thalia.

With no key in sight and the urgency of the situation growing, William knew he had to act fast. He pulled out his revolver and carefully aimed at the lock. The sound of the shot echoed through the clearing. The troglodyte, startled by the sudden noise, let out a piercing screech, its small body trembling in fear.

Thalia quickly moved to open the cage door. She reached in, her movements deliberate and gentle.

"Shhh, shhh. It's going to be okay," she murmured as she cradled the trog in her arms. She looked towards William. "Let's go. The others have probably heard the gunshot."

As they turned to leave, they nearly bumped into a woman. One of the poachers, it turned out, was a woman. She had a stern, angry, and weathered look about her, with a shotgun aimed directly at them.

"Well, well, well. What have we here," she said, with a voice so hoarse as if she smoked a hundred cigarettes a day.

Almost immediately, another man appeared and, at the woman's command, returned the troglodyte to its cage and bound the children with rope, taking away William's gun. Soon after, the rest of the group showed up and began to set up the camp.

"What's this?" Asked the man who looked like the one in charge.

"Some kids trying to steal the troglodyte," the woman responded with disdain. "The boy was armed."

The man looked at them closely. "A boy from the outside world and a wild girl. Interesting."

He stepped closer, eyeing William with curiosity. "Who are you, boy?"

William, maintaining his composure, didn't reply. He just stared at the man defiantly.

"Where are your parents?" The man probed further.

"I'm on my own," William claimed confidently.

"Alone? That doesn't sound very likely," the man retorted, skepticism coloring his tone.

William, seizing the opportunity for a verbal spar, responded, "We're talking in the middle of the lost world, surrounded by prehistoric creatures. Lots of things don't seem likely, do they?"

The man, taken back by William's wit, let out a short laugh. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But spirit alone won't save you here."

The woman, growing impatient, urged, "Come on, Randolph. Don't waste time with them. Just kill them and be done with it."

William, picking up on a name, questioned, "Randolph? Randolph the poacher... Could you by any chance be Randolph Applegate?"

The man was initially shocked, then a smile crept across his face. "Not many children would know my name. And now I know who you are. You're her son, aren't you?"

"Whose?" William played coy.

"The infamous Miss Smith's."

"Never heard of her."

"Ah, well, she doesn't go by that name anymore. But it is her - Marguerite."

"How do they know your Mother?" Thalia asked.

"Shhh, Thalia!" William hissed, trying to maintain control of the conversation.

The woman scoffed, "Who's Marguerite? An old girlfriend of yours?"

Randolph, waved off the notion. "She was a business partner from Cairo who double-crossed me. The only person who's ever managed to outsmart me. Can you believe that? Then our paths had crossed again, here, in the Lost World. After hearing the Challenger expedition quietly returned home, I wondered why they hadn't revealed the truth about this place to the world. Then it dawned on me – a golden opportunity for me to make a fortune." He then looked at William again. "I suppose Lord John Roxton is your father?"

"Well, since we're getting acquainted," William responded, playing along while internally calculating his next move.

Randolph asserted, "Look at you, following in your parent's footsteps. But there's no way they would let you roam the jungle alone. You must have run off with this wild girl."

Thalia retorted sharply, "Don't make this wild girl show you what an evil woman in a child's body can do."

Randolph, clearly amused, exclaimed, "You're just like your father. He had a penchant for dangerous and deadly women, too."

Night had fallen, and the poachers lit a campfire, cooking a dinner of small creatures and lizards they had managed to catch. Randolf untied William and Thalia so they could refresh themselves and eat. As William headed towards a bush, Randolf cautioned, "Don't try anything clever, boy. If your mother told you anything about me, then you know Uncle Applegate has a steep price for defiance."

The children joined the group around the fire and accepted the offered food.

Randolf mused, "I must admit, you've got guts. It's no small feat, stealing a revolver and venturing into the wilderness, all for a girl."

William corrected, "She's not my girlfriend."

Randolf chuckled, "You remind me of myself when I was your age. I've done something similar."

William mentioned, "I'm only eleven."

Randolf replied with a hint of nostalgia, "I was ten."

William recognized this as a prime opportunity to get closer to his captors, especially Randolph Applegate. Throughout the day, he had observed all the crucial details about their equipment and ammunition. Now, it was time to get inside his mind. Thalia remained silent beside him. Her expertise lay in trekking through the jungle, leaving the art of diplomacy firmly in William's hands.

Randolph, with a hint of amusement in his voice, asked, "What did your mother tell you about me?"

"That you're dangerous and not to be trusted."

Randolph let out a hearty laugh. "Ha! That's rich coming from her. Did she ever mention her own little escapades in Cairo?"

William, intrigued, replied, "Only snippets here and there. Perhaps you could tell me the rest?"

Randolf's smirk widened, but his eyes remained as hard as flint. "Your mother was a force to be reckoned with. Pulled the rug right out from under me. Made off with what was rightfully mine." He paused, assessing William. "You've got her look, you know. That same clever glint in your eye. Makes me wonder if you're anything like her."

William met Randolf's challenge head-on. "I'd like to think I am my own person."

"Of course, of course," he conceded, leaning back as if reassessing the boy before him. "But being your own person doesn't mean you can't inherit a few... let's call them 'family traits."

"Well, in that case, I'd like to make you a little deal," William said, his voice steady, betraying none of the nerves he might have felt inside. "I'm pretty sure you're in for the money. There's no way Randolph Applegate is doing all of this for fame and glory. Those things attract attention, and you don't want that, do you?"

Randolph regarded him for a few long moments before saying. "Smart boy."

William proposed. "You don't need to smuggle this troglodyte to earn a fortune. This Plateau is full of diamonds."

"You are your mother's son, no doubt about that. I only hope you make better arrangements than she did. Twice she offered me diamonds, twice she didn't deliver."

"I will deliver. I honor my agreements." William vouched.

"Never mind." Randolph said. "Sure, diamonds have their value, but they're not a curiosity. A prehistoric troglodyte, on the other hand... Now that's a curiosity. Things like that are invaluable on the black market."

"Yes, but..." William began.

"Enough business for tonight" Randolph interjected, his voice carrying a note of finality. "A night around a bonfire is meant for drinks and tales, not trade and transactions. I just realized I don't even know your name, boy."

"It's William..." he replied, hesitantly introducing himself.

"William Roxton. Named after your uncle, huh?" Randolph surmised.

At that moment, Randolph retrieved a flask from his pocket and took a swig. He extended the offer to William, who politely declined.

"Are you sure? It's good stuff. No? Well, suit yourself." Randolf took another sip. "So, tell me about that girl you've run off with. Where did you meet her?"