GLUB WAS SEARCHING for strange rocks, shells, and reeds. She dove down to the floor of the riverbed and ran her fingers through the small stones and pebbles, where she was now was more of a small pond than a river, a short waterfall trickling down over some rocks off to the side, creating a cold, clear, and small, but deep, pool. 

Peony had requested that Glub help find things to decorate a fairy garden she and her other young friends were putting together. It never seemed to bother them that all the plants which were gathered one day would be dead the next. They just explained that it meant the fairies had come and lived in it and went ahead and built another garden. They seemed to think that the fancier it looked, the longer it lived, and no explanations could sway them of their opinion. And since Glub always brought back the best, most interesting stones and decorations, Peony recruited her whenever she could.

Ordinarily when Glub started out on a task that one of her younger siblings had asked of her, it was quite energetically, even if she soon lost interest. She had generally the most interest if it meant going to this pool, which was hers alone, as far as she knew, and she was not about to go around Raye asking to see if anyone else knew about it. But today she put in hardly and effort at all, because she was thinking of what Sandy told her about the strange men who had come wandering through Raye. That had been the day before, and things were just getting worse. The night before she had overheard her parents talking before bed, and it turned out that another stranger had come through Raye. But this time it was not a man, it was a Liean from the town of Thanduil coming to report that pirate attacks on the little seacoast town were becoming more and more frequent, and that soon they might need help to drive them off. And that meant Rasa would have to take his unit down to Thanduil to better secure the borders.

Glub swam back and forth slowly as she thought, and her belt trailed far behind her. It was not really a proper belt, it was just a strand of rope that had been at the inn that morning, as her own belt had been broken while helping to thatch the roof. It was a large roof and took up to three days to thatch. She had been standing below on the ground, preparing to carry up some more of the sturdy water reeds so often used as thatch to be tied on by the men and older boys, when someone had chanced to drop one of the long, curved knives used for hacking the reeds to the appropriate length right on top of her. Glub had looked up just in time to see the knife slice the air above her head, and had been frozen to the spot in terror, but just before reaching her head the air seemed to fold around the knife, and it wavered, then slipped to the side, cleanly slicing off her belt and burying itself between two cobblestones directly in front of Glub's feet.

The innkeeper, round Wittbe Bur, had almost died of fright when he found out what had happened. He puffed his red cheeks out and declared that it was nothing short of a miracle and had insisted that she took the rest of the day off to recover from her scare, Sandy could take her place.

After she had secured the fact that she had the rest of the day off, she had rushed into the inn as fast as she could to see if Sandy had any rope around that might serve as a belt for the rest of the day. She was dressed in some of Ponto's cloths; they worked better for climbing ladders and such than the typical dresses she had to wear, and though the shirt was too small for him and fit her well enough, the trousers remained too wide around the waste. She was a bit surprised at first that Sandy was not helping thatch—or she never would have volunteered—but though Sandy was a wonderful roof-thatcher, he was an even better chef, so today Wittbe Bur was keeping him in to cook, since there was a visitor from the town of Janil, who just might want food. He had found a long rope for his friend, and it trailed behind her as she walked, if she didn't tuck it in. Glub didn't mind. It was a good rope, and she felt that it would be a waste to cut it, so she had tucked it in, and there it had stayed until she started swimming.

She pushed herself to the surface for a breath of air, then disappeared far below once again. She ran her mind back through the rest of her day, other than the unfortunate incident at the inn the day had been uneventful. As she was doing this Glub had forgotten to look where she was going and smashed her hand against a large bolder. She let out a small underwater yelp and shoved at the rock with all her might. It would not be fun to jump in and land on that! The stone was surprisingly light and bumped into another rock when it moved.

Strange. She would need to go up for air soon, but not just yet, so she waited for the clay and mud to settle, then peered into the dark hole.

There was something shiny, copper, perhaps even gold, down there. Just as Glub was preparing to go down and look she felt her chest tighten; she needed air. Glub turned and pushed off the bottom, expecting to shoot back up, but suddenly she was stopped short and yanked back down. Her eyes grew wide as she realized that there was only one thing that could have happened. Turning back, she examined the rocks. Her long belt was caught under one—how, she couldn't tell, but it was caught fast. She tugged at it; nothing. Her lunges felt as if they would burst if she stayed down there for one more minute.

Why, oh why did I wear a belt to swim? She tugged franticly at the knots.

Because I'd lose my pants if I didn't, she answered herself.

Well, that's better than drowning! The knots were loosening...

Don't be ridiculous, whoever heard of a Liean that drowned? It was loosening more...one last tug, the belt was untied, and she was swimming to the surface as fast as she could.

Glub flung herself onto the grassy bank and gasped in as much air as she could, water spraying painfully out of her nose, and she coughed up more still. After a moment she pulled her whole body on shore and then flopped down on her back, still breathing hard. As soon as she had her breath back, she pulled herself to her feet and stumbled back to her sister to report a failed mission.

~*~*~*~

A long day passed before Glub was able to get any time to herself. By the end of that exhausting day of wondering what lay in the bottom of her pool, Glub was so anxious to find out, she thought she may even pass up on an opportunity to get her brothers into or out of trouble—she did about an equal amount of both—to learn what it was that was hidden there. The next morning was busy as ever, and Glub began to panic that she might not be able to find out after all, but at long last things settled down a bit. Her mother had gone shopping, and her father had headed off to attend a meeting of one kind or another—she thought it may have to do with the pirate attacks in Thanduil becoming more and more frequent, but that was so far away it seemed unimportant—the Twins were helping finish up the thatching of the inn roof, and Glub had the whole afternoon to herself.

She wore only a light sleeveless dress tied about her waist that day regarding the relentless heat, her long, dark hair flew out behind her, and the leather satchel which she always brought on important investigations slapped against her thigh as she ran. It held a numerous assortment of various odds and ends; bandages, a compass, some of Ponto's—or Porto's—old clothing for the ease of exploring, and today a blueberry muffin left over from breakfast. Usually, she went around town to get to her part of the river, but today she was in a hurry, cutting through posed the risk of discovery, but it was undeniably quicker, and she wanted to see if Sandy could come with her.

"No," Sandy said ruefully when asked "My father said that I must do as ol' Wittbe Bur says, and the Cocklebur (that's what the boys and I call him)—"

"I know," she interrupted tartly.

He made a face at her, "We have to thatch the roof, remember?"

"Ah, yes..." she paused thoughtfully, then her eyes brightened, "If someone dropped a knife over your head and cut off your belt, Bur would have to give you the day off. Or you could say you'll help...next month. A roof has to be re-thatched every month or so, right? So you could just—"

Sandy rolled his eyes, "A good thatch will last up to a few years, Glub. You must not know anything about thatch."

Glub twisted her hair impatiently and glanced at the sun. "Not exactly my life's goal, no. I never intended to be a thatcher..." This was a worthless argument; time was not something she could afford to lose. She ended it abruptly, "Well, I suppose I'll go alone then,"

Sandy nodded reluctantly, a sudden worry clouding his face. Something odd was going on here, and he wasn't sure he liked her wandering off in the woods alone. Especially not after what he had remembered the other day; those strange men, searching for a Narolia...He silenced his inner voice, told himself she would be fine, and that he was being unreasonable. But he couldn't help saying aloud, "Be careful, all right? I wish I could come...I don't want you drowning."

Glub looked at him curiously. He was acting strange. He's worried about something. He's thinking about me. He's worried about me...She jumped in surprise. That thought had come unbidden, what it was about she didn't know. How would I know he was worried about me? Sandy? Why on earth would he worry about me? Except that I got stuck underwater for too long alone the other day, and now he thinks I could drown, and... Stop being ridiculous.

"All right. I'll be as careful as I ever am!" She left him with a sudden grin, and sprinted down the dusty road, bare feet kicking up little clouds of dirt along the way, leaving Sandy standing there watching her and shaking his head.

"That's what I'm afraid of, she'd die before she realized the danger." He muttered, then turned and went back into the inn.

~*~*~*~

Glub then dodged off the main street and into the thick woods that immediately encased the small town, she flew by the area where Reed and her friends had 'planted' a large water garden in the marshy land once and continued through the woods until she came to a small, slightly overgrown footpath. Here she paused momentarily to survey her surroundings. Good, she thought, everything is exactly as it should be, even, (here she paused to pull up a shoot of jewelweed, break it, and squeeze some of the juice onto her ankle where she had just rubbed against some stinging nettles) the nettles.

~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, back at the inn, Sandy was listening to one of his friend's complaints about roofs.
"I just don't understand, that's all," Camden Greenholm (who was called Trout by most, though no one knew why, another Haolims nickname that outlived its days no doubt) explained patiently, he loved having an audience, and at the moment he had an eager one of strong Lieans mostly Sandy's age and older, which made them all several years older than him, and all of whom were sympathetic to his cause. "If a roof is thatched, then it needs to be re-thatched now and again...but every few years, not every week! 'Oh wind, that thou didst not blow so bitterly!'"

Trout lifted his hands to the sky in mock despair. When it came to play-acting, very few could beat Sandy and Trout in earnestness or emotion.

The other boys snickered and jostled each other where they stood precariously balanced on the main beams of the roof.

"Yes, but it also takes three days to thatch this roof," on boy pointed out, "and we're only on the third day, so we have to finish it today. Or it will storm, and we'll end up having to redo the whole thing. Three more wasted summer days."

"Come now, my friend," Sandy began, gathering a good many laughs from the others as he patted his partner on the back so hard that the latter came frighteningly near suffering the unfortunate fate of falling off the roof, or falling through it, as was more likely, "it really cannot be half so bad as you are making it out to be, laying on a roof made of soft (ahem, excuse me,) softish, prickly, hard, dried water reeds, letting the fresh summer breeze wash over you like a wave?"

"A Title Wave," someone added softly.

"I suppose you take my point?" Sandy ignored him and kept his attention on Trout.

"Oh yes, my good sir, of course!" Trout turned quickly to the side and made a face that said just the opposite, then continued on seriously, "It might be wonderful if we did what you just described, and (if I may be so bold as to assume) what you do. But of course that is not what the rest of us do all day long; we work—ah how we work!"

"Do you work?" Sandy interrupted feigning surprise.

"Of course I do, what else do you think I labor at all day long?" Trout put on the appearance of extreme annoyance.

"Can laying in a hammock all the time really be that hard?" Sandy asked aghast.

"Only you would know! But, moving on, we work extremely hard, thank you. We... well... work!"

"He is trying to think of what all of us hardy thatchers do and apply it to himself..." Sandy murmured to a boy standing next to him. Then he cleared his throat, balanced himself carefully, and striking a dramatic pose, cried out loudly, "Ah! Though the unmerciful labor of a thousand years lay upon him, the wretched soul, tortured unendingly by the guilt of his conscience, the peace of those deceased torn roughly from his emeritus, pleading, trembling hands, and a twisted agony lay upon his cold brow. Ne'er again was the groan of...of...of something, to be emitted from the cracked and dry lips, nor...nor the...oh, never mind. I forgot the rest."

Suddenly the old innkeeper poked his red, round, shiny, bald head out the door, "Everything is getting on fine I trust? Sandy, what are you doing? Get down here you, and help cut the straw. No, never mind, go back up, and—who's idea was it to have all you thatching my roof, and unsupervised too?"

Trout pipped up eagerly, "Actually, sir, I believe it was Captain Haolims, and if you would rather we not thatch your roof, I'm sure we would all be more than happy to—" He trailed off under the innkeeper's withering gaze, and went back to his work tying the bundles of reeds to the rafters in a somewhat more subdued manner.

That was the end of the game for the time being.

Yet it was not long after that a loud, long sound that was something between a wailing, haunting shriek and a scream was heard. It was the cry of a Loon, and more importantly, a secret summons for five young Lieans, (yet only four of them heard or responded to it). Trout glanced at Sandy nervously, then cleared his throat and said, "Um, Sandy, Glub didn't happen to give you any idea on where she might be, did she?"

"Unfortunately, no. Not exactly, anyway. I mean, I know she's at a pool, but it's a secret one again. And the Twins seem to have skipped out on the thatching today, so they won't know either."

"I thought that might be the case," Trout sighed and rubbed at a bruise on his head he had gotten last time Glub had summoned them, she seemed especially fond of leaping out of hiding and surprising them.

"We might as well start hunting her down, come on."

Trout nodded, and cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting, "We're coming!" at the top of his lungs, and hoping Glub heard.

Sandy rolled his eyes, "There's no way she heard that," Trout shrugged and was about to say that trying couldn't hurt when Wittbe Bur, spun around and found them. "Cut out the caterwauling up there!" he hollered, "Yes, yes, you! Sandy and you—young Greenholm,"

"It's Camden, sir,"

"Camden...but you are a Greenholm, by the look of you. Who you are is not the point however, I want to know what you were thinking, playing around on my roof like this. I swear they could hear you in Thanduil! Sandy, come down here this instant. If you think you can work at my inn and get away with such irresponsible behavior, I'll teach you to think again!"

Sandy and Trout exchanged a nervous glance, then Trout shrugged and murmured, "I don't suppose you could fall off and...break your neck or something? So we wouldn't have to come back to this today anyway, but so that you could still do things?"

Sandy barely disguised a laugh, then whispered back, "How much do you really think I could do with a broken neck?"

Trout only shrugged, "Just thought it was worth mentioning,"

The innkeeper was glowering up at them, "Sancho Hardwater, down here now!"

"Right, coming sir!" Sandy called down, leaping up like lightning, "I'll be down there faster than—woah!" Sandy let out an ear-piercing scream of terror as he lost his footing on the ladder he was hurrying down and fell the rest of the way to the ground, landing with a thump at the feet of a horrified innkeeper.

Trout looked mildly impressed, "I wasn't expecting him to take it seriously," he mumbled under his breath, then scrambled down to check on Sandy.

The other young Lieans clambered as near to the edge as they dared and watched blankly as Trout assisted the pale, moaning boy to sit up.

Now Trout was lifting Sandy carefully to his feet and assuring Mr. Bur that he would be fine, just needed a minute's rest. Sandy moaned and flopped limply until Trout jabbed him hard in the ribs and hissed, "I can't hold you up when you're doing that," Thankfully, the innkeeper was busy calling for a stable hand to supervise the remainder of the thatching and didn't notice.

By now the others had stopped making even the slighted pretense of work; all watched openly. One boy let a snicker which quickly changed into a coughing fit under Trout's glare.

Once the two boys were out of sight an earshot of the town Sandy stopped limping and screaming and Trout stopped supporting him. Then they broke into a run, pausing every now and then to take turns letting out shrieks and loud bird calls and listen for a response. Then suddenly a cry louder than any of the others that had been issued split the regular bird chatter, the cry filled the air repeatedly the two Lieans eyes shot wide.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Trout murmured.

"I don't know. What are you thinking?"

"That either Glub just made an important discovery and got into some serious trouble and needs our help, or she's getting tired of waiting for us to arrive."

Sandy considered the possibilities, then nodded, "Probably the latter; in a word, hurry!"
"Aye, aye Cap!"

A moment later the two stopped dead in their tracks, for next to the water lay Glub's satchel, wet clothing, a skin of water, and a half-eaten blueberry muffin, but the solitary girl was nowhere in sight.

A sudden wave of panic crashed into Sandy, his worry from before re-doubling. The eerie feeling that had come to him earlier was stronger here, and he thought something might truly have happened to Glub. "O-o-h...I knew I never should have let her come alone," he moaned, "she's been kidnaped or drowned, or—"

"Something?" Trout suggested, after a moment his shock began to wear off, and his gaze went to the blueberry muffin. He had never heard of a Liean drowning, and did not know of the accident when Glub last entered that pool, or anything of the odd people searching for a Narolia. "You know, I cannot search for a missing Liean on an empty stomach..."

"Stop," Sandy said abruptly.

"You want the muffin? I'll split it with you if you like, but honestly, Sandy, I didn't know you liked blueberries that mu—"

Sandy gave his friend a thwack on the shoulder with his fist and glared at him. "I don't care about the muffin, Trout. Something's..." the hair rose on the back of his neck; his eyes drifted around and he turned, walked about ten paces to the left, then gazed up into a tree with a confused look wrinkling up his brow. She was up there somewhere, either in this tree or the next.

Then suddenly a voice cried out loudly from above Sandy, "Thank goodness you finally got here; I was beginning to wonder if you would ever show up! Where in the world are the Twins? Weren't they roof-thatching as well?"

Sandy hollered and jumped, fanciful imaginings vanishing with the breeze as he turned to face none other than Glub herself, hanging out of a tree, wet hair tied back, dressed in some of Ponto's old clothes, and laughing at their fright.

"We're doomed!" Sandy screamed, clutching at his hair, and yanking on it, "We did not make it fast enough and now her ghost has come back to haunt us!"

"At least I didn't smack my head on a tree root again this time," Trout remarked.

"I was really enjoying that," Glub mused, "I would have liked to stay and watch Sandy longer, (you only cared about my muffin), but I could not."

"Why not?"

"You were getting a little too close to my muffin for my liking."

"Can I eat it?"

"You missed three very important words, Trout." She flipped out of the tree and landed silently on the ground, picking up the muffin and pretending to take a bite.

"May I please have it?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." she handed him the muffin and giggled, "Come to think of it, you ate my last one too. Sandy, what's the matter? You look awfully pale,"

"Ah!" Trout exclaimed, "That would be his ankle, he convinces many, yet we still are not to be deceived! I knew you were in the tree the whole time."

Sandy shook his head; Trout definitely had not known. But he had been staring straight into Pervinca's eyes when she popped out, and somehow he had known it. Not that she was going to jump out at them like that; there was no way to predict what she was going to do, but that he had found her without seeing her...he shivered. "I'm alright. I just...I thought...never mind."

Glub looked at him closely for a moment, then shrugged and grinned at them. "You'll never believe what I just found!" she hastily explained to Trout about finding the fake rock, but she didn't mention her incident with her belt, to Sandy's surprise. A sharp look from her kept him silent when he opened his mouth to ask about it. She glanced over her shoulder into the woods, then back at the boys. "I dug around the rock until I had cleared the area of mud, then I waited until the muck all cleared, and—prepare yourselves to be amazed—this is what I have uncovered!" she darted behind the tree and dragged out a chest. It was not too large in size, no more than a foot tall, but it was nearly four feet long. It was made of pine, a strong, heavy wood; the chest was ornately carved, and the cover and sides rimmed with gold. Whatever sort of metal the hinges were made from is no longer found in the earth, for they had not rusted or weakened throughout the years spent underwater. The lock was gold and had been pounded into beautiful and spell-binding designs.

The trio just stared at it for a moment, dazzled by its splendor and beauty. It could not be aptly described, how each felt at that moment, yet no more than ten minutes later, all three were overcome with an immense and overwhelming desire to see what was in the chest.

"Is there a key?" Sandy asked finally, but only to be met with disappointment as Glub shook her head.

"Now why would there not be a key?" Trout mused.

"I would have opened it before I called you if there was. Not because I didn't want you here, just because I was curious," she added quickly. "I got tired of looking. I searched everywhere, but there is no harm in looking again." She added hopefully. The other two agreed in excitement, but not long after they gathered back around the chest, admitting defeat.

Finally, the trio stopped and stared at the chest idly; try as they might, the lock could not be broken, or even dented, the same went for the hinges.

It was not until nearly half an hour later that Ponto and Porto joined them, and the search for a key was on again. It was met with failure and didn't last long. Porto ran off to find Sandy's cousin, Auora Eglantine Roper, who was undisputedly (amongst the children) the best lock-picking Liean ever to have lived. Eggs was held in particularly high esteem with the young Lieans of Raye; she was the fastest swimmer in all the Liean communities, faster even than the boys. As if that were not enough to put all the Lieans her age in permanent awe of her, she had an uncommon knack for sensing another's presence, and could nearly always guess who someone was before she saw them or heard their voices. The mere fact that she was well acquainted with so many Lieans may have contributed to this, but no one could ever manage to deduce how. She was, in short, gifted. Some joked that she might even be a Crier, such as had never been heard tell of in hundreds of years. The Criers were female Lieans who were born with the unique ability to sense the presence of other Lieans and track them easily, and most wound up with little bits of foresight as well. Dreamers they were called in other cultures, as the things they knew came through visions or dreams. But the Criers were declared extinct by most, and Eggs laughed it off as nonsense.

"I wonder if those little scratches in the lid might mean anything," suggested Trout, half-heartedly.

Sandy ran his hand over the chest and wiped away some mud still clinging to the latch. On the pure gold latch letters of an ancient language were carven. "Hey...Trout," Sandy was studying them closely, "didn't your mother teach you Talen when you were little?"

Trout shrugged. "Well, yes, but we all learned it in school."

"Not well enough to speak it," Glub's head was cocked to one side and she chewed her lip thoughtfully. "You end half your arguments in Talen, and I've caught you singing in it."

Trout's ears turned bright red and he stammered for a moment, then cleared his throat loudly. "Really? That's very...interesting." He grinned at them sheepishly and shrugged, "but I think I made up half the words."

"Here, just have a look, will you?" Sandy tugged Trout down to his knees in front of the chest.

Trout studied it for a long time, "Well, it certainly looks like Talen..."

Sandy laughed, "Bad as I am with languages, I could have told you that! What does it say?"

"Um..." he mumbled to himself for a long time then slowly raised his head. "Alright. I think I got it. That it's accurate is...doubtful, but I think I got something, anyway...

When all the world is dark and dim
A light arises in the north.
From far below and deep within
Wonders once hidden now brought forth.
The ages come; the legends die
Realities merge then fade away.
Deep in the forest charred bones lie
A bond strong forged which cannot stay."

"And you thought youweren't good at translating," Came the laughing voice of Eggs, who had arrivedat just that moment with Porto. Glub bit her lip and looked down; it was toostrange.

First the incident with the knife, now this...it was all too strange.She glanced back up and realized the conversation had moved on without her.

"Whatdoes it mean?" Ponto asked, running his fingers over the letters.

"Treasure!"Eggs grinned and shoved her sandy hair out of her face, blue-grey eyessparkling with excitement, she was eagerly tapping at the side of the box withher fingernails. "Pirates would carve ominous nonsense onto their buriedtreasure as a last attempt to dissuade treasure seekers from opening theirchests. People were awfully superstitious back then,"

Theboys were watching her doubtfully. Sandy shook his head, "Sure...you think youcan open it?"

Eggswas just opening her mouth to respond when a small sound penetrated the woods,as the sound grew closer, it also grew louder, and understandable, "Gluuuub! Ponto!Porto! Time to eat!"

Amoment later six-year-old Primula trotted into the clearing, looking concernedin a way that only a motherly six-year-old can. "There you are!" she cried inrelief, grinning to revel a large gap where her two front teeth had once been.

Glub'smouth fell open and her eyes widened in amazement. "How in the world did she—Ithought this was a secret pool..." She mumbled under her breath, then sighed andshook her head, all good things must come to an end, but she had hardly foundthis pool two months ago.

"What do you want, Prim?" She asked rather irritably.

"Motherthaid—thaid—" Primula frowned and gave up trying to pronounce her S's,though not being able to upset her, and relayed her message as best as she wasable, "she told me to tell you time for dinner."

Glubblinked at her in surprise, "Where'd your other tooth go, Prim?"

"Ifell and hit it on the table edge and it came out. You should've theen all theblood!" She grinned excitedly.

Eggsmade a face, and Glub winced. "Did it hurt?"

"Yep!And there wath blood all over, and—"

"Ah—yes.I get the picture, unfortunately." Eggs cut her off. "Thanks. But I'm not ahuge fan of blood, if you know what I mean."

Primulacocked her head to the side, and Glub laughed at Eggs' face in spite ofherself; she looked more than a bit disgusted. Eggs loved Primula very much butwas constantly being surprised at the little girl's toughness and willingnessto describe such gory events as the bloody tooth-loss.

"We'dbetter go eat. Look, Prim, we've got a mess to clean up, but you go tell Motherwe're coming, alright?" Glub ushered her little sister towards the edge of the woods,then turned to Sandy, Trout, the Twins, and Eggs. "Let's meet back heretonight, late. Say, oh—midnight. Agreed?"

"Andwe won't leave until the chest is open," Eggs held out her hand, and Glub shookit.

"Untilmidnight, then!" Glub grinned, "Oh, Sandy and Porto, would you mind hiding thechest?"
Portoraised an eyebrow and grumbled, "Matter of fact, I would." He didn't hesitateto help though when Sandy hefted it up to find a hiding place. The three Haolims chattered excitedly on theway home, taking every detour possible to slow the trip.

"Piratetreasure!" Ponto's eyes sparkled, "Imagine! We could become rich, or better!"

"What'sbetter?" his brother laughed.

"Iwonder if it's all connected," Glub mused softly. Her brothers looked at her,Ponto wrinkling up his brow in confusion and Porto shrugging uncertainly.

"What'sall connected?"

"Well..."she paused to gather her thoughts and try to align them, "I mean, you knowabout the pirate attack there was in Thanduil? And the strange fellow—a manfrom outside! —who was wandering through...what if Eggs is right and there reallyis pirate treasure, and the pirates have a map or legend or something,and what if they're trying to get here to get their treasure back?"
Portowhistled softly, "I hope not! If it's pirate treasure we'd better be the onlyone's after it. I'd go live up by the Lord of the Wood in Amrahill and buy amansion..." he trailed off, mind lost in his dreams.

Pontosnickered, "Yes, and then the pirateswould find you and burn down your mansion and you'd lose all that treasure."

"What?No, of course not! I'd have spent it all by then, obviously,"

Pontorolled his eyes at this declaration.

"I'dgo see the world," Glub announced suddenly. "And maybe," she added slyly, "I'dbecome a pirate myself and then I would come back and confiscate your house,Porto, and maybe I'd let you still live there once I took over...but you'd haveto sleep in the hayloft of my stables."

Shegiggled over his protests which continued all the way home; Ponto and Glubteased him, twisting his words until he lapsed into confused laughter. Thetwins darted into the clearing in front of their home where their hammocks wereall hanging and the rest of the family gathering for the evening meal, but Glubremained behind for a moment, thinking. There was something in the back of hermind that she felt should be bothering her, but what it was kept slipping justout of her grip or memory. Something to do with the words Trout had read.

She whispered the words toherself and shivered. "The legends die...what?" she shook her head, Eggs had probablybeen right, it was just nonsense concocted to keep people out of the chest, butthere was that other line too. "Deep in the forest charred bones lie....deep inthe forest..." suddenly she blinked and shook her head violently, running intothe clearing to join her family.

Forthe briefest instant she had seen a cabin hidden deep in the forest, burning.The wailing of an infant had pierced her mind, and a voice whispered, "Theages come; the legends die..." then she was back with a blink. She dismissed itas her overactive imagination, then shivered and ran off, the incident fadinginto the back of her mind.