The tension in the room was palpable.
“Are we all in agreement?” The huge, red dragon looked around the room at her companions. “It must be unanimous.”
The arrogant elf scoffed, his face twisting into a sneer. “Do you really need to ask? Of course, we are all in agreement!”
“Indeed.” The bounty hunter nodded and wiped his hand nervously on his leather leggings. “This is what each of us has hoped for since the day we first found ourselves marooned in this world.”
“Oh, but things are different now!” The cleric’s cornflower blue eyes were wet, and she held her arms wide toward her companions, beseeching. “We have become accustomed to this world. We are finding it easier and easier to assimilate the customs and speech of this world. We are learning to use technology. We have made friends. How can we think of going back to our own world now? We should stay. We must stay.”
“No!” The elf screeched, hitting a pitch that threatened to shatter glass and decibel levels that threatened the same fate for nearby eardrums. “We have nothing here that compensates for the loss of our old lives, back in our own world!”
“If we are missing our own world and our old lives, we can visit the illusory world we created for the foreman.” The cleric pleaded. “There is no need to actually go back home. We can stay here and enjoy the best of both worlds.”
“No.” The foreman shook his head sadly, his gray eyes clouded. “While I appreciate the effort you all made for me creating that illusion, and while it is a fabulous place, it is but a pale shadow of our world and our former lives there.”
“But we have responsibilities here now.” The cleric still pleaded. “Who is going to protect Mistress Writer and Master Miles from their neighbors, Mace and Gloria, and from the sheriff’s deputies, Melody Whitewash and Dustin Dawg?”
The dragon waved dismissively at the cleric and chuckled. “With us gone, I highly doubt Mistress Writer and Master Miles will have any further altercations with those people.”
The cleric tried again. “What if the evil wizard Morcant returns?”
The dragon narrowed her eyes menacingly. “That one will never escape his tower prison.”
The cleric furrowed her brow. “Well, what about Arthur, that horrendous man who runs that writers’ club, Lost in the Words? Surly, Mistress Writer needs protection from him.”
The dragon scoffed. “Crawford and Griff will give her all the protection she needs from that slimy toad.”
The cleric changed tack and gave the dragon a coy look. “And what about Griff? Will you not miss him . . . and Ollie?”
The big beast frowned. “My affinity for Griff was nothing more than the pleasure of finding someone in this world with whom I could communicate in the old ways of my species and his, through a linking of the mind. There will be enough of my own kind back in our world; I will not unduly miss Griff. And as for Ollie . . . well, I admit leaving him behind is a deep regret, but one I will have to bear.”
The cleric turned to the Gypsy, the young hero, and the foreman. “And the three of you have no regrets leaving Colton and Blue?”
The Gypsy sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “We will miss them, surely, but we have been missing so many from our world – the Innkeeper, the Blacksmith, our Sovereign King, the young hero’s family. We will gladly give up the ones here to reunite with the others there.”
The young hero agreed, his green eyes shining with fervor. “I have missed my parents and brother so much! Furthermore, I have always had the feeling I was in the middle of something of paramount importance when I fell out of the manuscript into this world. I agree with the Gypsy – we must go home.”
The cleric turned back to the dragon. “And what about Marisol? Will you leave her tutoring to Talia and Christine?”
Dragon shrugged. “They know more about Marisol and her powers than do I. The child will be in good hands.”
Cleric looked around the room but found no ally. A tear slipped down her cheek. “But there is so much still to do here. What about the books we have come to enjoy so much? We will never get to read Mistress Rabe’s next Piper Blackwell novel. We will not be here to assist Master Miles as he designs this year’s Christmas Village. We will never again be able to join Mistress Writer on nature hikes and engage in wildlife photography with her. We will not even know whose image and presentation she judged best in last week’s contest.”
The sorceress walked over to the cleric and took her hands. “Forsooth, there will be things from this world we will miss, people whose absence from our lives will leave a hole in our hearts. But we never really belonged here. We have family and friends in our own world whom we miss and who are missing us. We have things we are supposed to be doing back there. We must go.”
The old dwarf walked over to the cleric and put his hand on her arm. “Tha magic lass be right, lassie. It do na be makin’ much nevermind how much we be gonna be missin’ this world an’ its people. It do na be makin’ much nevermind how much we be lovin’ Mistress Writer an’ Master Miles. Iffen we kin be goin’ back home . . . back home, lassie! . . . then there be nuttin an’ nobody here wat kin be makin’ it wort’ it ta us ta be stayin’.”
Tears streamed down the cleric’s face. “We . . . we will say goodbye to Mistress Writer and Master Miles, though, will we not? We cannot leave without saying goodbye, without telling them where we are going.”
The dragon shook her head. “It would make it much harder to go. We need to leave. Now.”
The arrogant elf jumped up eagerly. “Then let us proceed.” Suddenly he stopped and stared at the dragon, his eyes narrowing. “You are sure you know what you are doing, are you not?”
“You doubt me, elf?” Dark smoke started to rise from the dragon’s nose.
The elf drew himself up, rocked back on his heels, and grasped his cloak with both hands. “I do not doubt, I question. You have always said there was no way for us to return home. Over the years, you have researched this and made numerous attempts. You decreed it impossible to return to our own world. Are you quite certain of the discovery you have made that you claim will make this possible?”
“I am.”
The elf stared at the beast for several more moments, then nodded curtly. “Then, let us not tarry. Let us bid this place farewell, and return to our own world, our old lives.”
* * *
The house felt different this morning when I awoke. It wasn’t just that it was quiet – quieter than I had heard it in a long time. The house felt different. It felt empty. I hurried through my morning ablutions and hurried to the kitchen.
Miles had just finished making breakfast when I arrived in the kitchen. He had it laid out on the counter and I noticed he had only made enough for the two of us.
“No one else is joining us for breakfast this morning?” I looked around for some sign of my characters. “Where are the slugabeds? I was hoping to announce the winners of the nature photography and research contest.”
Miles shook his head. “I haven’t seen anyone.” He motioned toward the table. “Oh, by the way, I found these here this morning when I came in to prepare breakfast. What are your manuscripts doing here? Was one of your characters reading them last night?”
I shook my head and frowned. “These should be in my office.” I picked them up and something fell from the pages onto the floor.
Miles reached down and picked it up. He looked at it curiously. “What’s this?”
I took it from him, and my heart almost stopped. “It’s . . . it’s a dragon scale.”
Miles looked at it again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that shade of blue.”
“It’s Dragon’s true color. Here in this world, she was usually red. If she were confused or embarrassed, she would turn a light blue, and if she were angry or annoyed, she might turn black. But in her own world, she was a magnificent, breathtaking shade of deep blue.”
I studied the scale for several minutes. Suddenly, my eyes widened, and I ran downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I cried out.
“Honey? Honey, what’s wrong?” Miles ran after me.
I pointed, and Miles followed my gesture. His jaw dropped. “The conference room is gone!”
I nodded. There in front of us, where once there had been a huge room that changed shape and size according to the needs and whims of the magic users who had created it, there now stood just a blank wall.
“What have your characters done now? Did they decide to move it into the shed, or up on the roof?” Miles chuckled.
I shook my head. I rubbed the dragon scale, and a tear slipped down my cheek. “They’re gone, Miles.”
My husband looked stunned. “Gone? Your characters are gone?”
I nodded. “I believe Dragon intentionally left this scale for me with my manuscripts. I’m sure it was her way of letting me know, of saying goodbye.” I turned to my husband. “Miles, my characters found their way back into the books.”
I looked down once more at the deep blue dragon scale in my hand, and mouthed, Farewell, my dear friends! Farewell!
Well, my faithful readers, it has been a long and wonderful adventure, but it was time for my characters to return whence they came. There were no new situations in which to put them, no new ways for them to cause trouble for me and Miles. I hope you have enjoyed my little band of displaced characters and their antics through the years.
This also ends my weekly blog. I may still find things to share with you on occasion, but I am long overdue for a sabbatical. Stay well, and I hope you will have fond memories of my characters. I know I will miss them terribly.
I’ll be turning the porch light off now. I’ll be sure to turn it on again when I return.
The attack had been so sudden, Talia had had no time to avoid the gargantuan mountain lion that now pinned her to the ground. Struggling mightily against the heavy creature, she managed to get an arm free. Simply by instinct, she made a few arcane gestures with her hand and muttered an incantation under her breath, the same spell she had used on Dragon to transform the mighty beast into a tiny lizard. 
The cougar snarled and brought his face closer to Talia’s. Suddenly, he stopped, and his brow furrowed. He sniffed at Talia. “You aren’t the one I’m looking for.” He released Talia and stepped back. “I’m so sorry. You aren’t hurt, are you?”
The coyote pup whispered in Talia’s ear. “The person Rafferty thought he saw hasn’t been around since long before I was born. Poor cat. I don’t know exactly what happened all those years ago, but it must have been horrible for Raff. They say he hasn’t been quite right in the head since. When he gets really bad like this, my pop takes care of him, gets him the help he needs.”
“Oh, the poor little thing. I’ll help look for her! Can I help, Chaz? Can I?” The mountain lion closed his eyes and pleaded with the coyote.
“Let’s go, then. Let’s find this poor little thing.” The mountain lion bounded off, only to come racing back. “Chaz? Which way do we go?” He looked confused, his whiskers trembling and his eyes unfocused.
It was late in the day with the sun dropping fast toward the horizon, when Talia and her group spotted Dragon and her troop coming toward them along the berm. As soon as he spotted Dragon, Rafferty stopped dead in his tracks. “What is that?”
Before the mountain lion could respond, two huge grizzly bears broke through the adjacent brush and lumbered into the field about a dozen yards away. The smaller bear was carrying something tiny in her arms, and the larger one looked around until he saw who he was looking for. “Hey! Hab’itt! Come on over here, buddy! Did you lose something?”
Without a second’s hesitation, the child skipped over to the other group, with Hab’itt following on her heels. Without a word, Marisol reached up and grabbed Dragon and Talia by the hand. She gazed silently at the mountain lion, who was nearby, shaking uncontrollably. “The cat needs your help. Say the words, Dragon. Say the words, Talia.”
Marisol tilted her head and chewed her lower lip for several long moments before answering. “That’s harder to explain.” She paused again, choosing her words carefully. “I could see his heart.”
Marisol shrugged, as if it were no big deal to her. She snuggled close to Dragon again and sighed. “I like that place. It was just like Hab’itt said – it’s a place of inclusion and acceptance and peace and tolerance, a place where everyone cares about everyone else, and no one cares if someone is different. I think I’d like to live in a place like that.”
Something ahead of them on the trail screamed, a prolonged, blood-curdling scream. Before the trio could react, another scream followed, louder, shriller, and more heart-stopping than the first. Then the sound of angry voices ensued.
“Stop it, Junior! You’re giving me a headache!” The larger coyote next to the howling youngster snapped at him, then glared at the badger. “And you stop it, too, Benny. You’re such a diva.”
“Yeah, Benny!” A spotted fawn lifted her head from the basket of carrots and spoke around a mouthful of food. “Don’t be such a diva! Just stop already!”
Benny didn’t stop. “Ooooooooooooooooooooo! Ooooooooooooooooooooo! Get him off my tail. Get him off my tail!”
The family of foxes started yipping along with Benny’s howling until the coyote silenced them with a hard stare.
A small, two-toned rabbit sighed, looked up at the deer and shook his head, a look of disgust on his furry little face. “Derrick, would you please get off Benny’s tail before he damages our hearing with his infernal caterwauling? You’re always dashing around and never watching where you’re going. You’ve stomped on my paws more times than I can count, so I know it hurts like the dickens. Benny isn’t being histrionic.”
“I’m sorry, Benny. I’m sorry, Twitchy. I’m sorry, everyone.” Derrick the deer finally seemed to understand. He carefully moved his hoof off Benny’s tail, only to place it dangerously close to a large rabbit’s front paw, a rabbit Dragon recognized as Hab’itt. The rabbit jumped back, narrowly avoiding knocking over another rabbit who had been sitting next to him, munching on some carrot greens. “Sorry, Hab’itt.” Derrick hung his head.
“Oops. Sorry, Bracken!” Hab’itt steadied the other rabbit he had bumped into, as he glared at the clumsy deer.
“Hey, Hopper! Where have you been, you big ox? We got tired of waiting, so we started the picnic without you.” Hab’itt hopped over to greet his brother with an affectionate nose-rub.
“I don’t think I met you, though.” Hab’itt looked closely at Talia and sniffed at her. “I’m Hab’itt. Are you with the dragon?” He held out a paw to Dragon’s companion.
Hab’itt thumped one back foot and gave Dragon a questioning look. “Marisol?”
“Well, the old bloodhound there will just have to keep tracking.” Talia pointed to Dragon, who gave her a stern stare as smoke started to drift from her nose.
“What?” The adult coyote fixed her with a steely stare. “You have something against coyotes or foxes?”
“Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!” The coyote pup, sitting at his father’s side, made a gagging sound. “Carnivores? You think we eat meat? Gross!”
Talia shuffled her feet and blushed scarlet. “Of course, if you say we need their help, I welcome it. But I thought your sense of smell was sufficient for the task.”
The reynard walked over to the coyote pup and nudged him. He spoke to the youngster in a loud stage whisper. “Junior! Didn’t your parents teach you not to play with your food?” He gave Talia a wide-mouthed grin.
“What is it?” Talia was pale and wide-eyed. She stared at the tree branch Dragon was holding, the tip of which had vanished when Dragon had thrust it at the spot where Talia had been about to walk. 
As she was saying that, Dragon noticed that Talia was already looking. Looking up. And up. And gulping.
“Indeed.” The rabbit smiled warmly. “I call him the little runt; he calls me the big ox.” Seeing Dragon remained unconvinced, he chuckled. “Have you never had a relative or friend who used a term of endearment that, to others, seemed unkind?”
“A child, you say. Hmmm. Last I saw Hab’itt, he was with a group of friends in the carrot patch. I saw no small child with them.” Hopper looked from Dragon to Talia and back, then scratched behind one ear with a huge back paw. “What species is this child?”
Talia scowled at Dragon before repeating herself. “I was thinking . . . maybe you could fly over that area and take a look.”
The woman stepped forward, but Hopper grabbed her, snagging the collar of her jacket with his teeth and pulling her back. “Watch out for the portal!”
Dragon took a deep breath, trying to identify Marisol’s scent among the many around that area. After a few moments of sniffing, she nodded. “The child has passed this way.” She frowned, as she continued sniffing. “So have a number of other creatures – Hab’itt, several other rabbits, a deer, a family of foxes, a badger, and a band of coyotes.”
Talia dashed from the house, dragging Dray. The two women made their way down the flagstone walkway, Dray tripping and stumbling as she was tugged along. When they reached the street, Dray stopped dead and jerked her arm free from Talia’s grasp. “Wait! Where are we going?”
“Are we not taking your vehicle?” Dray gestured toward a flashy red Ferrari parked haphazardly at the curb.
Dray shimmered as she shapeshifted back to her true form. The angry dragon loomed over Talia and growled, black smoke spewing from her snout. “It is not wise to maltreat a wyrm, or to order one quiet.”
Dragon roared, flames erupting from her mouth. The next thing she knew, she was a tiny lizard, swimming with all her might while trying not to drown in a tiny puddle full of fallen leaves next to the curb. Before she was half-way across the water, she was once again a dragon.
“Fine. Sorry.” Talia shrugged and snickered again, clearly not sorry at all. She attempted to move, but Dragon’s claws in the woman’s shoulder kept her pinned to the spot.
Dragon shook her head. “No. Hab’itt seemed too open and too sensitive to engage in a violent transgression.”
Dragon nodded and clambered awkwardly over the split-rail fence at the back of the yard. Talia squeezed through the rough wooden rails. “Darn! I snagged my blouse on the fence.”
I was walking down the stairs and was on the landing by the front door when the doorbell rang several times in quick succession, followed by someone banging urgently on the storm door. Quickly opening the door, I was surprised to see Talia, one-half of the duo that owned and managed the Chris-Tal Clear Metaphysical Store and the person who was instructing our young neighbor, Marisol, in the control of her mysterious power. In the cool evening air that wafted through the open door, I could feel the heat of anger radiating from Talia. Her face was red, her nostrils were flaring, her eyebrows were drawn down in a severe frown, and her hands were balled into fists. She pushed her way past me into the house without even a hello or a by your leave.
“I am here.” Talia and I turned around and looked up toward the voice coming from the top of the stairs. However, instead of the delicate and exotic maiden, Dray, there loomed Dragon, Dray’s true self. There was a menacing look on her reptilian face, and she flexed her clawed hands threateningly.
“I have every right. Marisol’s training has been substantially set back by that incredibly brainless, idiotic, shortsighted stunt of yours at her birthday party. Why in the name of all that’s magic would you deliberately allow the child to see your true nature after I provided you a spell powerful enough to prevent that? And why would you purposely allow her to see the illusory horses after I gave you a spell of concealment strong enough to keep them hidden from her? I won’t even ask what you were thinking when you allowed Marisol to ride an illusory Pegasus!” Talia’s voice had risen in pitch and volume with each word, until she sounded much like my Arrogant One throwing a fit.
We all whirled around to see my husband, Miles, standing at the top of the stairs.
Talia paled. “Are you talking about a normal rabbit, maybe someone’s pet or a backyard variety of wild rabbit?”
“No, as a matter of fact, he was a six-foot-tall, talking rabbit.” I frowned. “Why? Is he a friend of yours?”
As the two figures left the house, Talia called back over her shoulder. “Tell Bastina that Dray and I will find Marisol. And don’t mention the rabbit!”
“I. Am. Not. An. Illusion.” Again, the rabbit confirmed what Dragon had said. He spoke slowly and distinctly, as if talking to obtuse children. My Old Dwarf, Dragon, and I stood, speechless, gaping at the six-foot-tall creature.
Another voice asked, “Are you sure you’re not an illusion?”
“Indeed, we are.” Dragon looked at Hab’itt and sniffed disdainfully. She turned back to Marisol. “Child, I asked you what you know of this creature. Prithee, if you have knowledge, I ask that you share it with us.”
“Of course not, child.” Dragon shapeshifted into her familiar guise of the delicate and exotic maiden, Dray. She leaned down and scooped Marisol into a gentle hug. “It is not wrong for you to have power, and it is not wrong for you not to be in full control of it. You are still young, and you and Talia have more work to do. Eventually, she will teach you how to fully control your talent.”
I smiled at the little girl. “You had fun at your birthday party, didn’t you? You received some nice presents, and Dray made your special wish come true.” 
“I do not know. Perhaps Hab’itt can explain.” Dray turned to the giant lagomorph, who was still watching Marisol. The rabbit’s whiskers were still twitching, but he remained silent.
“Perhaps in your experience they do not. But be assured, whence I come, I am considered a runt.” Hab’itt bent his head and smoothed his whiskers with his paws in what seemed to me a gesture of embarrassment.
“Define world.” Hab’itt seemed to sense our impatience, and quickly continued. “To me and my kind, there is only one world. Wherever there is life, it is part of that one world. But I can see you define the word differently.” He stopped and scratched behind his ears with one enormous back leg. “I would hazard a guess and say no, I do not come from this world as you define the word.”
“Dray, have you figured out how I was able to see the bunny right away, but mommy couldn’t see him until I pointed him out to her?” Marisol looked troubled.
I chuckled as I watched one of the backyard rabbits stretch up to sniff at my Old Dwarf. It almost looked as if the rabbit were trying to entice the dwarf to chase him again. The dwarf absently started petting the animal.
And the chase was on again, with the rabbit staying just out of range of the axe being wildly swung about by the dwarf, as the rotund figure huffed and puffed along behind the little critter, turning the air blue with his colorful language.
I stopped short as I was walking past the open door to the conference room and did a double-take. There was Dragon, curled up in front of her illusory fireplace. The fire was roaring, and the leaping flames should have been enough to transform the entire house into a sauna, as had often been the case in the past. Yet, I realized, I was perfectly comfortable.
Dragon opened one eye and glared at me. Without preamble, she immediately began complaining. “What is wrong with your Minnesota weather? It is only early September, and already the temperature has fallen into what your heat-measuring devices register as the thirties.” Angry black smoke rose from her snout. “The thirties! That is winter weather!”
I stifled a chuckle and tried to look sympathetic. “I know, I know. I’m not happy about it, either. But it’s not going to last. According to the weather forecast, we should be enjoying some extremely comfortable autumn weather for the next several weeks, with temperatures ranging into the high seventies most days, and only dipping to the mid forties overnight.”
Dragon turned blue, and the smoke started dripping like bubbles from her nose, as typically happened when she was embarrassed. “Errr, yes . . . well . . . when Ollie visited, he did suggest it would be only polite of me to find a way to control the heat . . . you know, out of consideration for my fellow characters and for you and Master Miles.”
I smiled. “I knew I liked that big Old English Sheepdog!”
Dragon slowly morphed to her favored hue of deep red, and a dreamy look settled on her face. A silly smile pulled at her reptilian lips, as she nodded. “Mmmmmm . . . so do I.”
“Not harming him? Not harming him?” My Arrogant One joined the conversation, drawing himself up, rocking back on his heels, grasping his cloak with both hands, and screeching like a banshee at the dwarf. “You are terrorizing that poor creature, chasing him around, threatening him with your axe, and yelling obscenities at him at the top of your lungs.”
My Old Dwarf chuckled. “Eh, it be nuttin, beastie. Tha elfie been illusionin’ a big bunny, liken he been doin’ oncet afore. Then he been actin’ all skeerdidy-like, as iffins he dinna been knowin’ the critter be a fake, and then the liddle popinjay been runnin’ off.”
“What?” I gaped, first at Dragon then at the rabbit. The former merely looked annoyed, but the latter gave me and the dwarf a smug look.
“I said he is not . . .” Suddenly it appeared that Dragon’s rational mind prevailed over her anger at the elf, and she realized exactly what she had said. Gaping at the rabbit, Dragon turned blue, and the clouds of smoke turned to bubbles, dripping from her nose. “He is not an illusion,” she finished weakly.
We had just finished setting up the party in the backyard Saturday morning when Bastina arrived with Marisol. After a quick thank-you to all of us and a reminder to her daughter to mind her manners, our neighbor drove off.
“The day is young, child. Be patient.” Dray pointed to the gazebo, festooned with bunting and banners. Refreshments were set out on tables, and a pile of presents awaited the birthday girl.
“Happy birthday, Marisol!” I placed my hand on the child’s shoulder. “Why don’t you start by opening these presents, and then we can all have some refreshments before Dray gives you her special present.”
“We know that horses and dragons are your favorites, and your mom told us you are quite the reader, reading well above your age level, and you love putting jigsaw puzzles together. So, this is from the four of us.” My Young Hero pointed to himself, then gestured to the group around him – my Foreman, my Gypsy, and my Bounty Hunter.
The next gift was a children’s book about herbs and wildflowers. “This is from Clara and me,” Sorceress told Marisol. “Your mother told us you have recently shown an increased interest in this subject. I think you will find the illustrations and anecdotes in this book quite extraordinary.”
Next, Marisol opened the gift from me and Miles. “Oh! Binoculars! A book on birdwatching, and a journal to keep a list of the birds I see! Thank you!”
Marisol tried out the binoculars. “Oh, these are great! I can see a Goldfinch on that feeder pole!” She immediately opened her new journal and laboriously wrote the day, date, and location, along with the name of the bird, twice asking for help with spelling. When she finished, she grinned at me. “I will make great use of this gift!”
Next, Marisol opened a leather-bound notebook, with her name and a picture of a dragon and a horse on the front. “Oh, this is exquisite!” The child ran her hand over the cover before opening it.
“You can paste pictures in there, or draw images, or write your ideas, your desires, your hopes . . . whatever pleases you.” Dray smiled at Marisol, and the child nodded.
My Old Dwarf stepped up. “I been makin’ tha wristlet fer ye, lass. I be knowin’ ye be right partial ta horsies an’ dragons, but I been includin’ a bunny, too, causin thet be how ye been meetin’ alla usins, when ye been followin’ me when I been chasin’ a bunny rabbit. But I dinna be knowin’ iffins ye be o an age where ye be likin’ gew-gaws like thet, so’s I be carvin’ a few little figures fer ye, too. Ye kin be keepin’ ’em on a shelf in yer room, or inna box wit yer udder trinkets.”
Marisol spent a few more minutes looking at all her gifts while Cleric served the cake and ice cream. “I made individual cakes so everyone could have their favorite. I made you the orange chiffon you liked last time.” Cleric handed Marisol her cake and the little girl made a silent wish and blew out the candles.
My Foreman gave a hand signal for his horse to step forward. “The black stallion is mine. His name is Centaur. Would you like to pet him?”
“This one is Gypsy, and he’s soft, too.” My Gypsy led his horse over and Marisol cooed over him, too.
“And this is my pony, Hero. He loves apples. Would you like to fee him one?” My Young Hero showed Marisol how to hold her hand flat and let the pony take the apple gently from her hand.
The elf nodded. “Of course. This animal is quite gentle and will be an excellent mount for you.”
The elf turned to me, a wistful smile pulling at one side of his mouth. “When I was but little older than her, I wanted nothing more than to learn the art of illusion. I remember how thrilled I was when someone not only invited me to watch them perform some illusions but encouraged me to learn some of them. They spent all afternoon with me, teaching me, and then giving me space to try on my own. When something means so much to a person, even a little encouragement can mean the difference between elation and heartbreak.”
My heart just about stopped, and I held my breath as I watched Dragon and Marisol fly higher, circling the treetops for several long minutes. Then they floated back to the ground. Dragon changed back into Dray, and Pegasus was once more just a saddle horse. I think that was when I remembered to breathe again.
Again, Marisol scuffed her foot back and forth. “No.” Her voice was even softer this time. When she finally raised her head and looked at Dray, the little girl’s brow was furrowed, and she was chewing her lower lip. “I have to talk to you, Dray, and I didn’t want Mommy to hear.”
Marisol hesitated. “My birthday is Sunday. I’ll be seven years old. I’d really like to see the horses for my birthday. Maybe even pet them? I mean, it doesn’t have to be on my birthday, just for my birthday. Any day around my birthday would be fine.”
When we first met Marisol and her mother last year, we discovered Marisol had the unique power to see past Dragon’s spell of concealment. She was able to see the illusory horses and stable. She was also able to see through Dragon’s shape-shifting ability. She saw not the exotic maiden everyone else saw, but the beast’s true form. While her mother did not understand Marisol’s power, she was uncomfortably aware of it, since another part of the child’s power was to cause those around her to see what she saw.
Perhaps sensing Dray was about to refuse, Marisol tired a different tack, turning to address me as well as Dray. “You know Talia has been working with me, teaching me how to control my . . . problem.”
“How fortuitous!” Bastina was so thrilled with Dray’s offer to have Marisol visit on Saturday, I could hear her enthusiastic reply even though I was standing a good ten feet from Dray. “I have to work the mid-shift at the herb shop Saturday, from eleven to six. I usually take Marisol with me, but after work I need to pick up her birthday cake and make some last-minute arrangements for her party on Sunday. I couldn’t do that if she were with me.”
“I am going to allow Marisol to see me in my true form, and to see the illusory horses.” Seeing the shocked looks on the faces of her companions, Dragon waved dismissively. “I believe Marisol is sufficiently mature that she will not go off blathering about it to all and sundry. Also, Talia assures me the child has achieved a level of control over her powers that will prevent unexpected guests – anyone who crashes the party, so to speak – from seeing what Marisol sees.”
“I think it would be a good idea for us to have a little party for Marisol, leading up to the grand event of the day.” I looked around at the lack of enthusiasm among my characters and sighed. “We can have cake and ice cream and give her some small, token gifts. We can make it a real birthday celebration.”
Cleric shook her head. “Marisol does not like chocolate. I will make an orange chiffon cake. It is her favorite”
We spent some time discussing ideas. Dragon decided granting Marisol her birthday wish would be her gift. Cleric felt the party and the cakes could be her contribution, and my Old Dwarf decided to handcraft a present. I offered to do the shopping for everyone else and made a list of what to get.
