Midge stared at the spot Emory had been, then glanced back at Rita, who looked just as mystified. In fact, Rita looked more than mystified, she looked concerned.

"Where'd he go?" Midge asked, her voice wheezy and faint. She felt as if she'd recently been punched in the chest and was still regaining her breath; the surrounding scenery had spun her into a daze and she had yet to find her footing.

"Hopefully back home," Rita said, then murmured, "foolish boy," under her breath. "I'm sure we will see him again soon. Did he already explain the rules of the island to you?"

"Yes," Midge replied, glancing down at the small faun again. She was so round, pink-cheeked and pretty, exuding that familiar faunish aura of happiness and contentment. Midge did not miss Queen Titania's plane, exactly, but she was glad a small piece of it was here with her for the time being. "The rules seem remarkably similar to those in the Faewild."

Rita laughed, banishing the last of the worry from her eyes, and turned her steps back in the direction of the pool. "You are not wrong, for that matter, though Emory is not nearly as... er... unpredictable as Her Majesty, and he certainly does not claim to be our king."

Midge was not sure how she knew exactly where that pool was, but it drew her with a distant ache, a cold burning point in her mind. Falling into step behind Rita, she raised her voice so it could be heard over the breeze rustling the vibrant leaves overhead. "So you weren't born on the Mundane plane?"

"No, I'm one of the few who actually came through the portal in Southport," Rita explained, kicking up her hooves to avoid a scampering rabbit in their path. "I used to live in an adorable little cottage near the Lake of Dreams. Then a young, bratty green dragon, Razcoreth, set up a fiefdom in the area and Queen Titania refused to do anything about it, claiming that all her creatures deserved a right to live as they saw fit, and if we didn't like it, we ought to leave."

Midge wasn't shocked. "The strongest survive."

"In the Faewild, maybe. But it's not like that here. Or at least, it doesn't have to be," Rita said, brushing aside a tall stalk of orchids.

"Emory protects you here, where it's secluded from the stronger beings of the plane," Midge guessed, glancing down at her new friend. Someone who took it upon themselves to leave not only their home, but the entire Faewild itself, was certainly not weak in any case.

"Sort of. I could go elsewhere safely enough, I'm sure, but I just always wanted to live in a remote, wild place like this."

Midge did not blame her. Being able to hear the thoughts and feel the feelings of those around them made fauns extremely sensitive to large crowds. "So how did you earn a spot on this beautiful island? Did Emory recruit you for your healing aura and psychic abilities?"

"Ah, well. That is what he would tell you," Rita said with a fond smile. They were making swift progress towards an ascending hill, and the earth began to soften with sand. The far-off sound of waves and the scent of salt in the air signaled the approach of the dunes.

"And what would you tell me?" Midge pressed, curious for the little faun's thoughts despite the distractions around her.

"I already knew Emory from one of his missions; he got lost in the Broken Vale, and I was near enough to hear him, berating himself for his own stupidity and weighing whether or not to teleport himself to safety. I set him back on track, and he told me he owed me a favor. You know that matters, in the Faewild."

Midge nodded. A favor owed was a binding contract, in that place. Only a fool would ever admit he owed someone an open-ended favor. "So you came here to call in your favor."

"Yes. Though I don't think he would wish to be rid of me now. And not just because I am talented and useful."

Smiling, Midge refrained from commenting on that statement. She didn't know Emory well, but he seemed like the type who would never admit he needed anyone else, even if it meant losing a friend. Stubbornness and pride were not unfamiliar traits to her.

"We're getting close. It's just at the top of the next dune," Rita said, scrambling up to the top of the ascent and swinging her hooves over the edge.

Midge stepped up behind her, and as soon as she reached the top of the rise, she saw the infamous pool on the next dune, shimmering within the confines of its muddy banks. The water was clear and still, not responding to the breeze in the air that should have stirred it.

Bracing her palm on the soft sand of the embankment, she mirrored Rita and swung her long, spindly legs over the edge. Resting her palms on her thighs, she stared at the pool.

It was there, just on the edge of her memory. "I want to go closer."

"What if you get sucked through again?" Rita looked at her, astute gleam in her soft brown eyes. "Or do you wish to return home? Emory isn't here, you can be honest."

Midge hesitated. She didn't want to go home, in fact she wished never to see the inside of that castle again. But the idea of not going home, of not living the life she had always lived, felt daunting. What would she do, if she did not go back? Live in this beautiful paradise owned by a grumpy man who hated her, forever?

Would anyone in the Faewild miss her if she did not return?

"I don't know," she said at last. She was flying blind, operating on instinct. "But I want to touch the pool."

Rita glanced at her, then at the pool. "I went up to it and peeked, but I didn't touch it yet. If you want to risk it, go ahead."

Taking a deep breath, Midge straightened back to her feet and began skidding down the steep side of the sand dune, the warm sand trickling over her toes as she landed at the bottom and began her next ascent. It was a steep incline, so she had to curl her fingers into the tough strands of grass, then set her bare foot against the side of the dune and pull herself up.

As soon as her right food landed on the sand, the world went dark around her for just a moment, and she saw highlighted clear as day in her mind a long mane of bright red, curly hair unlike any she had seen on the island.

Blinking her eyes open again, she saw the scrubby grass before her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Rita watching anxiously from her perch, but no other newcomers to the scene. So why did she feel another presence?

Her shoulders lifted with a deep breath, and she hauled herself up the side of the dune once more.

When her left foot stabbed into the sand, the world was dark again, and she saw a glimmering nymphroot beneath the waves of a lake, before it disappeared.

The next step revealed a pair of laughing, glassy eyes. The next, a heavy shoving sensation that sent Midge down to her elbows, spitting sand.

"Midge? Are you all right?" Rita called out, concern coloring her tone.

"Fine," Midge replied, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. She was so close...

Warm water splashed against her fingertips and she hauled herself up the last step, clutching to the side of the pond. With the sensation of balmy liquid came the last of the memories that tantalized her.

Chevalier. 

He'd followed her to harvest nymphroot. He'd mocked her, teased her, helped her, then pushed her into the Shimmerdread Pool. Had he meant to send her here? But why? Perhaps it had merely been a prank that went terribly wrong. But a portal to the Mundane plane could not exist so near Queen Titania's castle without Her Majesty being fully aware of it, not to mention cautioning her subjects to avoid it.

Withdrawing her hand from the pool, Midge exhaled a breath of relief. She had not been sent right back where she came from, which was something she would now attempt to avoid at all costs.

But Chevalier had broken this little spot on this perfect, idyllic, island, and Midge could not stand for it. She would not stand for it. In her mind's eye she could see it so clearly, how this dune should be. Soft white petals arranged like stars against their deep green leaves, the heavy, drugging scent filling the air for yards around. Jasmine.

She did not even mean to close her eyes this time, but when she came back to herself, and the swirling memories and thoughts had faded into still, calm darkness again, she found that her eyes were closed. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the soft brush of leaves, and in the air was the scent of jasmine.

It could not be.

Rita's surprised gasp confirmed it, and this time when Midge opened her eyes, it was not the muddy edges of a pool which greeted her vision, but rather the vibrant vines of full-grown jasmine bushes tangling over each other and spilling down the sides of the dune.

"What did you... How did you..." Rita kicked over the edge of the dune and scrambled up to join Midge, running her hands through the scented flowers. She gave an impressed huff of air and sat down on her haunches, kicking back and rolling in the vines, crushing just enough of them to send that hypnotic smell swirling through Midge's head.

"I don't know," Midge could only repeat, staring at the restored dune.

All she knew was that whatever she had done had fixed the island. It was right, now. How it was meant to be.

"All right." Rita lifted her head, her golden curls speckled with bits of torn leaves. "That settles it."

"What?" Midge lifted one hand and pressed it to her temple, trying to contain the fierce headache that sprung up there abruptly. "What settles... what?"

Springing upright, Rita executed a high kick with a satisfying click of her hooves, and when she landed again she was beaming the full force of her aura directly at Midge.

"You're coming to the village. You're gonna stay with me."