"This might be a good place!" exclaimed Griselda, opening the door while the car was still running.

"Close that darned door immediately!" yelled Odilda. "Have you decided to get killed before you can be of any help?" The professor glared through the rearview mirror. She then slowed down her Citroën, coming to a stop at a corner of a small junction near the Tower of London. "Here then, all right!" she exclaimed as she parked in front of a no-parking sign.

"Are you quite sure this is the right place?" asked Peter, seeing it was just a common intersection with a few anonymous stores here and there.

"It's certainly not, but with a little effort we can make it so," Griselda reassured him, amiably ruffling his hair. "Come on, girls! Let's get to work."

After shooing some passerby, the three grandmothers set the rolled-up carpet in the middle of the intersection. Then each of them took place at a different point of the three-way crossroad, their fists full of shimmering powder, and began to chant in a monotonous tone, rocking from one foot to the other while lifting and lowering their arms.

"Bivium-Trivium-Magicalis res non solum et non semper est sic ut nobis videtur. Bivium-Trivium-Fictorium-Fictatae iusta via non semper facile reperitur. Bivium-Trivium-Arcanum et Incantum quaedam ad nullum locum. Bivium-Trivium-Sapientia ad veram scientiam et summam sapientiam non omnes viae ducunt. Bivium-Trivium- Mysterium et Stregalon una est via quae ad Dralonem perducit."

They threw the magic powder onto the carpet and began to rise in the air. Under their feet, the streets began to stretch, shrink, rotate and divide like pieces of a puzzle.

"Look!" exclaimed Peter.

The carpet lifted from the ground and, like the long tongue of a snake, began to move sinuously through the air, stretching out and rolling back first in front of Griselda, then in front of Magda, and then in front of Myrtle, as if struggling to decide where to finally unfold.

"Bivium-Trivium-Magicalis res non solum et non semper est sic ut nobis videtur. Bivium-Trivium- Fictorium Fictatae iusta via non semper facile reperitur. Bivium-Trivium-Arcanum et Incantum..."

The chant grew powerful and relentless while the carpet struggled increasingly.

"Bivium-Trivium-Mysterium et Stregalon una est via quae ad Dralonem perducit!" The three grannies shouted, stopping their dirge abruptly. Their feet, wrapped in amusing footwear, touched the ground. The carpet, finally sure of its landing place, uncoiled slowly, opening between the buildings a fourth road made of small irregular pebbles, some protruding and colorful, some rounded and decorated.

"Well, well!" said Griselda, watching their results with satisfaction and dusting off any leftover powder from her hands. "It seems that our work here is done!"

"It has been a very exciting diversion!" added Magda, vigorously shaking Odilda's hand. "You know... life in a cemetery can be quite dead at times!" she grumbled.

"Um... yes... ok, very funny... but now, let go of my hand!" replied Odilda with her usual bluntness.

"Thank you so much for your help!" said Peter, grateful. "Without you, we could have never found the way to Dralon."

"Definitely no thanks to Pollo," said Michael.

"A-pollos!" pointed out the parrot, opening the lid of the glove compartment to send Michael a killer-bird glare.

"In any case, you really know how to hide a road!" congratulated Michael.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, but... not every..." the old lady stopped talking as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

"You'd better go, darlings!" cautioned Mrs. Pond, pushing them toward the cobble road. "The magic won't last long. I truly hope you manage to find what you're seeking in Dralon. But be very careful as you travel..." she advised. "The Contrary World is no place for mere mortals. It conceals many dangers - some so terrible they can't even be named."

"We'll keep eyes and ears open," Peter assured her, waving.

"And please, give our best to Trogol when you see him again," added Myrtle. "And if you ever come back around Highgate, don't forget to pay us a visit, okay?" she shouted, waving her lace handkerchief as the group began to walk away.

"We will, for sure!" promised Kate, waving back from a distance.

Griselda and her friends kept watching until the group passed an arch with the inscription: "To Dralon." Only then, Griselda remembered an important detail.

"Oh, wretched me!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes and putting a hand over her mouth.

"What ever happened?" asked Myrtle, alarmed.

"We forgot to warn them about the guiding stones! How can they find Dralon without checking the stones?" she cried, desperately running along the cobblestone path in an effort to reach them. "Stop! Stop!" she yelled, lifting her skirt to her knees while running. "Wait!" she shouted again, until the road disappeared from under her feet. She found herself breathing her cries on the window of a shop that displayed strange objects with hairless tails and signs reading: "Toasters at bargain prices" and "Fryers on clearance sale."

The children had entered the Contrary World and the used appliance store was back in its customary place.

* * * * * * *

"This road never ends!" complained Michael, shuffling his feet from exhaustion.

"I've never seen a road straighter than this in my life," agreed Peter, turning back to look at the long, long road traveled. "No curves, no cross streets, no junctions... no indication of other possible directions. It seems to go on indefinitely. Does it seem strange to you?"

"Oh, so much hot air!" reproved Odilda. "If there were another way to Dralon those three mad upholsterers would have told us, don't you think?"

"But I'm sure I've seen this rock before," said Peter, pointing at a large, protruding stone, inscribed with the image of an eye. "I think we've already been here at least three times!"

"To be honest ..." said Michael, reluctant to agree with his older brother, "this stone looks familiar too."

"That's a bunch of nonsense! At any rate, we definitely can't stop now. Come on, come on..." the professor urged them, shaking her whip. "Forward-march!" she shouted, as she lifted her knees high, imparting a new rhythm to the march.

After a good while, however, she realized the road was not changing and was clearly not becoming shorter. In fact, maybe it was just the opposite.

"Ok!" she erupted, frustrated. "Something's not right." She turned around to look at the scenery which had remained frighteningly identical. "What kind of sick joke is this?"

"We told you!" said Michael.

"We're missing something, for sure," added Peter. "Yes, but what?" asked Costalbine.

"The map is not working here..." said Kate, as she tested all the objects in the sacks, one by one, "and Trogol doesn't want to get out," she continued, rubbing the sleeve of her sweater on the lamp with all her might.

"That's just great!" exclaimed Michael. "We're stuck on this lousy street without beginning or end, in the middle of absolutely nothing and especially without food. I'm starving!" he whined, flopping himself on the ground, distressed.

"OUCH!" moaned someone. 

"Are you hurt?" asked Peter.

"Who, me?" said Michael, pointing at himself. "Not at all! I'm not a wimp like you!" he replied, annoyed, finding a more comfortable position on the ground.

"OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!"

"Who yelled?" Michael asked, standing up suddenly. He had never been much into sports, but in time of need he could be as quick as lightning.

"Show yourself immediately!" ordered Odilda, fending the air with her whip. "Let's see if you still want to play tricks once you taste this!"

No one replied.

"The cry came from here!" said Peter, kneeling where his brother had been sitting.

"Is someone underground?" asked Michael, placing an ear on the road.

"Underground or not, there has to be someone!" exclaimed the professor, knocking on the stones with the tip of her whip. "And that someone wants to make fun of us!" She landed a good hit on a rock inscribed with the image of an ear.

"OUCH! OUCH! That hurt!" they heard again.

"The stones are speaking!" exulted Kate, hopping toward the aching rock.

"The stones?" repeated Costalbine.

"Please stone, we're lost and don't know what to do..." said the young girl, as if taking to a rock was the most normal thing to do. "Could you help us find the way?"

"Of course I could ..." the stone replied, meekly at first. "But the question is: why would I do it... AFTER YOU STUCK THAT THING IN MY EAR!"

"You must excuse us," said Peter, mortified. "We're foreigners and don't know the rules of this place. We didn't mean to disturb or harm anyone."

"What did you say?" yelled the stone. "The turbans are ninety-one?"

"Right! Just what we needed..." said Odilda, rolling her eyes, "a deaf stone!"

"No, no..." explained Peter. "We need you to show us the way to Dralon!" he yelled in the large ear.

"Um..." muttered the stone, lifting its ear. "And why would you want to go to Dralon? It's not a place to visit, especially for ordinary mortals like you."

"Well..." Peter replied, sheepishly. "We've accidentally broken a spell and now we have to go there to... how should I say it?... to fix it." 

"And we must do it quickly, or something awful will happen!" continued Kate, hoping to convince the stone.

"Well, I don't know where you can find some waffles, little girl!" said the stone, "but I can tell you how to find Dralon. Listen carefully because I will not repeat it again... Take 100 elephant steps, 45 lion steps, 22 steps like a hare returning to its den, and 60 ant steps. Turn yourselves around twice, then turn left – don't add a step and don't miss a turn. That's all. Have a lovely journey!" With those words, the stone fell silent and the big ear shrunk until it became again a simple drawing.

"Well, it doesn't seem that difficult!" exclaimed Michael, confidently.

"We should divide the steps," suggested the professor. "I'll start with the 100 elephant steps. Peter will take the lion steps. Michael, you can be the hare..."

"Hey, hey, hey! Wait a minute! I've no intention of being a hare!" objected the boy, placing his hands on his hips. "Why can't I be the lion?"

"Are we really arguing about who should take lion steps?" asked Odilda incredulously. "Now I remember why I decided to work only with professionals." She moved close to Michael, standing threateningly a few inches from his face. "You'll be the hare, my dear, or this whip will say something to your behind. Am I making myself clear?"

"But I want to be a lion... uff!"

"Well, son, I'm sorry to disappoint you but you don't always get what you want in life!" disclosed the professor. "You'll learn that disappointment and frustration will make you a tougher person."

"But that's not fair!" he said, pouting.

"One..." Odilda started to move like an elephant. "two... three... four..."

Then it was Peter's turn. "..101... 102... 103... 104... 105..."

"..146... 147... 148..." continued Michael, hopping and sulking at the same time.

"..215..." Kate took tiny steps, pretending to be an ant, while the others counted.

After all the steps and the two turn-abouts, following the stone's instructions exactly, they turned left and began to walk in that direction until... BAM! They heard a loud noise, when their heads slammed against a huge wall that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Where did this come from?" wondered the professor, rubbing her aching forehead.

"We were supposed to find a new road!" exclaimed Michael, disappointed.

"Maybe we didn't count the steps right," guessed Peter.

"I told you I should have been the lion!" grumbled his brother.

"The steps were right!" said Odilda, excluding that possibility.

"So where did we go wrong?" wondered Peter.

"I know! I know!" said Kate, euphoric. "Even at school, everyone makes the same mistake..." she recounted, looking at the tips of her shoes. "Even Simon Byrd and Beatrice Holms make this mistake all the time. If you don't remember the rules of the game, you can't..."

"Kate!" Odilda called her, snapping her fingers to bring her back to the subject. "Let's get to the point! What's the problem?"

"The steps of the hare! It's obvious," said Kate, skipping around in a circle.

"It can't be. My interpretation of the hare was just perfect!" protested Michael. "I think it's the lion's fault!"

"The hare had to go back to the den..." she pointed out, as if that sentence could explain everything. "She had to walk backwards and not forwards like the other animals. Do you understand now?"

* * * * * * *

On the second attempt, Odilda and the children found themselves on a cobblestone street not very different than the other. The only difference was that now they were walking uphill.

"I really hope that stone was not in the mood for jokes," said Peter.

"I hope so too," agreed Odilda, as she looked around, panting.

"Hey, guys, look over here!" shouted Michael, who had gone ahead of them.

Not too far from there, the cobblestone street divided into two paths.

In the middle of the fork stood a statue with a wooden jar in its hands. 
"CONSULT THE FORETELLING SPIRIT," said a wooden sign at its feet.

"I suppose you have to pay a duty to get more information," said Odilda, peering inside the jar.

"I have only this button!" said Peter, emptying his pockets.

"Don't look at me!" exclaimed Michael, turning his pockets inside out. "I don't even have that."

"I have this!" said Kate, lifting herself up on tiptoes and dropping a penny in the jar.

The statue moved slightly, placed its forefinger and thumb into the jar, took the penny and froze into a new position. "Hey!" protested the girl. "That was mine!"

"I think you offended him!" said Michael, grinning.

Odilda reluctantly pulled out the coin purse she had hidden in her bra and, holding it tight to herself, tried to insert a larger coin.

"Here, leech!" she exclaimed, dropping her offering in the jar.

The statue pulled the jar up to its eyes, grimaced in anger, and emptied it behind its shoulders, freezing into another pose.

"Hey, rascal!" yelled the professor. "Give me back the money, immediately!" she ordered, hitting the statue as if it were a malfunctioning vending machine.

"Maybe it's broken!" said Kate.

"It didn't seem broken before!" argued Odilda, placing her purse back in its safe hiding place.

"It's not!" said Peter, pointing at another sign. "Our currency is not working here."

CONSULT THE FORETELLING SPIRIT

1 Starlin

Devilish riddle - Receive crucial information

1 Gragol

Riddle for experts - Receive significant information

1 Hogor

Riddle for beginners - Receive almost useless information

1 Miserin:

Riddle for woodenheads – You don't know what you'll get

1 Lunar – Receive help

IMPORTANT: The seer speaks only three times.

"The ancient coins in the sack!" said Michael excitedly, while rummaging in the sacks still held by Kate. "I'm sure they'll work!" He took out a handful of coins and, without paying too much attention to the currency, dropped one inside the jar.

As soon as the coin hit bottom, the statue began to move and speak. "I am Eteocles, the seer. I see and foretell what is not clear. What do you need, my child so dear?"

"First of all, I'm no longer a child..." specified Michael. "Second, how do we get to Dralon?"

"If my riddles you can decode, I will show you the best road," explained the statue, shaking the jar to receive another coin.

"You must be joking!" yelled Odilda. "We just paid you!"

"A miserin small can't tell you all. What's paid is paid, what's said is said. To tell you more I must be fed." The statue bowed courteously, and froze again.

"This Contrary World is starting to get on my nerves!" said Michael, fishing out the largest coin from the sack and placing it in the jar. "See if you like this rhyme... Take this coin, you cheating seer. Tell the whole story or I'll kick you in the rear!"

"Oh, a starlin!" exclaimed the statue, well pleased. "Now listen carefully: Both roads lead to Dralon, my words you can mark. One is straight and easy and one rough and dark. Now do you want this seer to say which of the two is the very best way? The riddle explain, and all will be plain."

"Shoot, Eteocles!" said Odilda, impatient.

"There are three brothers. Sometimes they're ugly. Other times they're beautiful. The first one is not here because he is walking out, the second is not here because he is coming back. Only the third one – the smallest of the three – is here, but when he is gone neither one of the other two are here. Who are they?" asked the statue, placing its hand by its ear as it waited for the answer.

"Um... three brothers who never meet," said Peter, thoughtfully.

"Maybe they work in shifts, like mom at the department store," thought Kate.

"But why are the others not here if the youngest is gone?" wondered Peter.

"Maybe he has the most important job..." guessed Michael, "and if he is gone, the others can't keep working."

"It's too hard!" complained Kate.

"Can we ask for a clue?" Odilda asked the seer.

"Sure you can, but be careful..." the statue warned her. "The third coin is the final one. I can give you a special clue, but the money won't get back to you." He stopped with one hand on his temple and another stretched out, handing the jar to the four strangers.

Peter, Kate, and the professor looked at Michael, nodding.

"A lunar!" exclaimed the seer, eager to pocket the coin. "Here is the clue for which you yearn: one of the brothers is always timeworn. The second is always a step ahead and the third lasts as long as a nod of the head. If the third one is not, the other two cannot be. What is the answer you're giving to me?"

"One is timeworn and the other is always a step ahead..." thought Odilda, pacing before the statue, with one arm behind her back. "One lasts as long as a nod of the head and the other two cannot be if the third is not..."

"I know!" said Peter, snapping his fingers. "What can't have been and will never be unless it first is?"

His siblings looked at him with the most idiotic look he had ever seen in his life.

"It's talking about the times!" continued Peter, since no one was reacting. "Past, present and future. Am I right, seer? Am I? That's it, right?"

"I'm impressed!" said the statue, dumbfounded. "Not many passersby can solve my riddles. But the time is over now, so I'll say good-bye with a courteous bow."

"Are you kidding?" roared Odilda. "We've solved the riddle. We have the right to receive the directions you've promised!"

"I'm sorry, but I've warned you..." replied the statue, unperturbed. "The last coin has been used, and I can only say, 'It's time for another buyer to come my way.'" With this, it returned to the initial pose.

"What a scoundrel!" cursed Odilda. 

"Now, what do we do?" asked Kate.

"We can dress up and pretend to be new clients," Michael suggested. "I don't think we can fool this swindler so easily," replied the professor.

"So, we just have to choose one of the two roads and hope it leads us to Dralon without problems," said Peter moving his eyes from one path to the other.

"Yeah, but which one? They look practically identical," exclaimed Michael, as if he could read his brother's mind.

"We'll take the left path!" the professor decided, without too much thought.

The children looked at each other. They had no reason to object to her choice, so they just shrugged and started to walk, obediently. They were soon following a road full of curves and bumps, flanked by rows of bare trees, withered bushes and rocks, and surrounded by an endless expanse of arid land.

"You're on the Path of Everwanting," Peter read the inscription on a wooden arrow tied to a thin pole with a string. "The town of Losinbliss is a few 'wants' from here."

"I can't go on!" Michael complained again. "I'm exhausted, I'm thirsty, and my stomach is begging for food!"

"Me too!" his little sister followed suit.

"I'd just love a nice stuffed chicken surrounded by vegetables, dipped in delicious sauces... yum!" he moaned, hungry.

Just then, as he uttered those words, a display of steaming hot and fragrant roast chickens, with necklaces of salad drenched in cocktail sauce, appeared on the road in front of him.

"Did you see that?" shouted Michael, astonished. "Did you see that too?" he said, running eagerly towards the fence where they had just disappeared.

"What are you talking about?" asked Odilda, puffing.

"Those beautiful skewered chickens, with plates, cymbals, and kettledrums between their roasted legs," he replied excitedly, keeping his head in the bushes.

"Poor boy..." said Odilda, pretending to fell sympathy. "He has completely lost his mind."

"I tell you, they came two steps away from me, all happy and inviting!" he shouted imitating the birds' motions.

"I want to eat a huge strawberry, lemon, and pistachio ice cream, like the ones we buy on Sunday at Mr. Whipped, or a vanilla tea with pastries filled with black cherry jam... Mmmm! Delicious!" said Kate, rubbing her tummy.

Just then, the surrounding grounds, once dry and barren, became sprinkled with soft green grass dotted with flower-shaped cookies holding scoops of ice cream, while on the trees, now lush, sprouted buds full of tea and cherry pastries.

"Look!" exclaimed the little girl, beaming. "Let's go taste them!"

"You see this, right?" asked Michael, pointing one hand at his sister who had picked a flower and was licking it with pleasure, and the other hand at the trees, heavy with filled pastries.

Peter and Odilda arched their eyebrows, worried.

"It must be a very contagious virus," whispered Peter.

"Yes! Contagious and powerful," agreed Odilda. "We'd better keep our distance," she added, stepping back.

"You don't see it, do you?" asked Michael. Peter shook his head. "Ok! No problemas amigos. I'll help you," said Michael, pulling his jacket's sleeves up to his elbows. "It's not difficult. Just try to imagine something you want very badly and you'll see... it'll be immediately in front of your eyes. Come on! Try!" he encouraged them. "Go on! Don't be shy."

"Anything?" asked Peter, skeptical.

"Anything!" his brother assured him.

"Let me think..." said Peter, holding his chin in his hand. "I want... I want ... I WANT GALLONS OF HOT CHOCOLATE AND UNENDING DESSERTS!" he finally shouted.

With those words he saw along the way a fountain made of gingerbread and sponge cake, decorated with small colorful cupcakes, muffins, jam tarts, pumpkin-raspberry cookies, candied fruit, candies, and eggnog cream puffs. On top, there was a marzipan dwarf with a cloak of cotton candy, pouring endless streams of hot chocolate from his jug.

"Pinch me!" exclaimed Peter, wide-eyed in amazement. "I'm sure I'm dreaming!"

"Not bad!" Michael complimented him, placing his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I think I'll come to visit you as soon as I catch one of my chickens!"

"Now it's your turn!" Michael told the professor, who had been rummaging in the sacks in search of something to eat.

"Darn it!" complained the woman. "Not even some chewing tobacco in these wretched sacks!" she grumbled as her shoulders drooped in defeat.

"Hunger and thirst are tough animals to tame!" said Michael, while sinking his teeth in nougat bark.

"Aaaah, okay then!" the hungry woman surrendered. "What do I have to do to... to get... you know..."

"You just have to make a wish," replied Peter, the corners of his mouth smeared with chocolate. "That's all!"

"It's not difficult," added Kate, sitting down and nibbling leaves of icing.

"Concentrate..." said Michael, "... and think of something you would like to have more than anything else right now."

Odilda half-closed her eyes, wet her lips, and placed her hand on her tummy which was rumbling like the pipes of an old building.

"I want ..."

"You want..." encouraged Michael.

"I want ..." said Odilda, dreaming.

"Yesss..."

"I want ... I want to drink orange juice and eat buckets of popcorn and bags of fried meatballs like the ones my grandfather bought me when I was a child at the carnival!" she said in one breath.

At that very moment, colorful carnival stalls materialized before her eyes, displaying all kinds of dainties: candied apples, lollipops, waffles with chocolate sauce, peanut brittle, chocolate eggs, fruit jellies, cakes, and bonbons filled with cream, as well as stands serving lemonade, orange juice and soft drinks, and carts carrying muffins, pizza, chips, club sandwiches, sandwiches with salami, tuna and cucumbers, sandwiches with sausage, sauerkraut and mustard, and of course wagons of popcorn and fried meatballs.

Odilda rubbed her eyes in disbelief and breathed-in deeply to enjoy the aroma of all those treats.

"It's... it's..." she stuttered.

"Incredible, right?" Peter helped her to finish.

"Now there's just one thing to do..." said Michael. "Stuff ourselves with all these goodies until we get sick!" He then dove head first into a small lake of chocolate covered nuts. "I could swim in these waters for hours!" He held his breath and dived deeper, to see what he could find on the bed of the lake.

"Hey there!" said a joyful voice behind them. "Did you knock?"

Odilda gave two strong blows to her chest. She had to down a full glass of orange juice to wash down the meatball that had gotten stuck in her throat out of fright.

A dwarf with two big ears and a thick white beard looked at them cheerfully. He stood in front of a pile of fritters covered in powdered sugar which had just popped up in the middle of a trail. The sign, also edible, read: WELCOME TO THE TOWN OF LOSINBLISS.