Margret's Weald // The Haven's Gateway

15

"And that is why you need a disguise." Mr Nightingale said, then addressed June who was sitting in the couch next to his gigantic armchair. "Dear, would you mind helping an old monster out? I think I've had plenty of walking for today."

She nodded and got up swiftly.

"Fetch me a sliver of drift wood, three red scarabs, a black beetle, two marmot femurs, a parvulus wing, a chunk of blue marble the size of your thumb, and a bandera vertebrae. They should be labeled in the kitchen."

She hesitated for a moment, probably looking for a retort, but she gave up and disappeared into the kitchen. We could hear her opening the squeaky cabinet and the clinking of glass jars.

Mr Nightingale used a nearby piece of flint to light up an oil vessel beneath the large black cauldron to his right, then dusted the inside of the cast iron pot with a white cloth.

I scooted over to the cauldron. "What is this disguise, exactly? Is it a potion or something?" I asked, feeling a little nervous. "And what will it do to me?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot permanently change the way you look. You'll be stuck with those awful blue stripes and ridiculous horns for as long as you're here. But, I can create a glamor, or an illusion, that will influence the way prodigia perceive you. To everyone including yourself, you'll look like a regular old monster." He said, examining his dusty rag, which was covered in fluffy dust bunnies. He scowled at it and threw it aside, grabbing a ceramic jar by its neck. He poured a thick, clear oil from it into the black pot.

"Glamours are not my expertise; in fact, I am quite novice in alchemy in general. I've yet to learn everything those dusty scrolls contain. Avian studies are my specialty, but none of the local bird species will help you now. I can only promise two weeks worth of an effective glamour, maybe three if I'm more skilled than I perceive. But that should be enough time to return home, hmm?" He asked, setting down the jar and turning to me.

I quickly remembered that I wasn't supposed to tell him Margret was here. June must have told him I had accidentally fallen in, and I wanted to find a way back home. That was true, I didn't want to leave without my sister.

I nodded. "Um, yes, I hope so. Speaking of returning home . . . how do I get home? Do I just climb up where I fell down?"

Mr Nightingale guffawed heartily, hitting his heavy paws on his knees. I smiled awkwardly, feeling stupid.

He chuckled, wiping back a tear and smiling widely. "Oh, dear boy, that won't be the return for you. If somehow you managed to make your way back through the Daunted forest, hike to your cave, and climb to the top, you'd encounter a ceiling of rock. Entrances like that are only open for a brief moment, and you can't retrace your steps through them. Like valves in a heart, our worlds won't admit any back flow. You'll need to find another entrance to the Haven."

June came in with an armful of jars, then placed them on the ground by the professor and I before going back into the kitchen for another load.

"The human aristocracy has been searching for such a gateway for centuries. They are the descendants of the original Moiraian human settlers, and they want to return to their Haven world. The occurrence of war, sickening poverty, famine, and disease makes one yearn for a better, easier past. They think your world is better than this place they've created."

I smiled, snickering. This place probably wasn't too far off some of our third world counties. I didn't like it here, but if I'd grown up in the Weald, I would have gotten used to it.

"But, I have heard speculations about an entrance at the bottom of lake Kanndon. A few have already drowned themselves searching for it. A few have searched for an entrance at the top of the Yondör mountains, and they've returned as either cowards or as frozen corpses. Besides those two places, the rest are just legends, none of which are real." He said, smiling.