Robin leaned against the old leather seat near the back of the trolley, as his whole body wracked against it as the old car traveled over its uneven tracks. Grateful that his train rides thus far had by far been less disorienting than this small trolley, Robin tried to distract himself from his dizziness by attempting to peer out of the dusty window that sat next to him.

Through the aged glass, the small town of Adel slipped into a vast horizon of rolling farm hills, filled with either corn, woods, or tall prairie grass. Large pastures, divided by wooden fences or barbed wire, expanded as far as Robin could see. The afternoon sun blinked behind its puffy white clouds at the world below, casting the rolling hills in either shadow or bright summer light.

Robin watched as the tram passed run-down farmhouses with deteriorating, rusty mailboxes. Old homes sat waiting beyond the muddy gravel path that ran alongside the trolley tracks, many in various states of decay, neglected by their owners for life elsewhere.

It made Robin feel oddly nostalgic.

"Where did you say you're headed, boy?" the old man operating the trolley shouted, peering at Robin through the dusty mirror above his conductor seat.

"Sunshine Acres, sir," Robin replied, also forced to raise his voice over the noise of the trolley. "I was told I could find it two and a half minutes past the third stop?"

"Ah, Miss Ivy's place, huh? Whatcha going there for? The King of Kingsbury needa new crown or somethin'?"

The conductor suddenly let out a loud, boisterous laugh at his joke, as he turned back to wink at Robin.

"Ah, no," Robin responded, reluctantly giving the man a polite smile, choosing to spare himself the re-explaining of his situation by humoring the old man. "Actually, I do. I am planning a coup. The first step of a successful coup is crown shopping. You see, my plan would be easily foiled if I went looking in Kingsbury."

Robin's sarcastic response made the older man laugh harder than Robin had expected. The older man's cheery laugh bounced off the walls of the small tram car. The sudden joyful sound caused Robin to smile as well, feeling proud of himself for his clever response.

"HAH! Oh boy, you're a fun one! You'll fit right in around here!" The man chuckled as he shook his head, looking at Robin through the mirror; he gave the younger man a big smile. "Don't worry, boy. I'll make a special stop for you on the road to Sunshine Acres. Just enjoy the scenery, eh?"

Robin nodded, giving the jolly older man's reflection a more genuine smile as he turned back to his window.

"So, where are you from in Kingsbury, boy?" the old man asked as he glanced at Robin again, seemingly giving Robin a closer inspection by attempting to keep the conversation going.

"I'm from London," Robin replied, squimish under the older man's gaze.

"Oh, London! That's great! I love London! I'm going, you know...one of these days," the man exclaimed joyfully. "Oh! Wait! Look at this!"

The old conductor reached over to the door next to him out of Robin's view, then pulled out an old knitted winter cap, stitched in the pattern of the Kingsbury flag.

"Oh wow," Robin scoffed, genuinely baffled by the sight of the knitted hat. He had not expected to see anything like that here.

"Isn't it amazing?" the conductor mused, turning in his seat to gauge Robin's genuine reaction. "I broke my leg once and spent all day learning how to knit, and once I got the hang of it, I made myself this. I told myself, when I go to Kingsbury, I'm going to bring this hat with me, and wear it everywhere I go!" he said with a proud chuckle, grunting as he attempted to pull on the hat with one hand still on the trolley wheel, eventually leaving it slouched, and only halfway on his head.

"What do you think, boy? If I wear this, will I look like a local?"

Robin analyzed the man's crude attempt at the intricate Kingsbury flag, turning his face towards the dusty window to hide his amused smile.

"Oh, certainly," Robin said, pushing down the laugh in his voice. "Might I ask, would you be so kind as to knit me a Great Plains hat for me to wear while I'm here?"

The conductor let out another loud laugh, his hat almost falling from his head, as he turned back to narrow his eyes at Robin.

"Oi. You're a quick one. Keep talking like that, and you'll be a local in no time. Won't even need a Great Plains hat," he declared, small chuckles escaping from his round belly.

Robin knew the conductor was picturing Robin walking around Adel in a hand-knit Great Plains hat. This image made Robin smile, too. It was a humorous notion. He hoped it might help dissuade the man from ever visiting London and wearing that hideous Kingsbury hat.

A comfortable silence settled on the trolley for a minute, occasionally interrupted by the conductor's deep chuckle as if replaying their conversation in his mind.

However, shortly after the third stop, the trolley began screaming at a higher pitch, indicating that the tram was again coming to a halt.

"Well, my boy, here's Sunshine Acres, right down that path," the conductor announced, opening the doors once the trolley had jerked to a stop.

"It was good talking with ya, lad. Hope I'll get to see you again. Then I can give you a Great Plains hat," the old man said with a wink. "Might work as a crown if you don't find anything worth your while at Miss Ivy's."

"I'm not sure that would be the best idea, but I appreciate your support in my cause," Robin chuckled, nodding to the friendly conductor as he jumped down from the train car.

"Oh! And tell Miss Ivy, Old Man Kalavee says hi!" The jolly man, Kalavee, called from the trolley steps, waving goodbye as the creaky door closed with a slam, leaving Robin to face his fate alone.

Robin turned and looked down the path before him.

On either side of the old, dusty road sat a red crossbuck wooden fence with a small opening for the winding trail, leading to the similarly red house.

A wrought iron mailbox stood wearily at the fence's opening, with delicate tulips painted on both sides. A faded "Sunshine Acres" was written in chipped, curly lettering among the flowers. The door to the rusting mailbox squealed on its hinges against the summer wind. A large pile of mail had been aggressively crammed inside it, preventing the small metal door from closing. A pang of worry shot through Robin at the sight, wondering if "Miss Ivy" might be out of town.

The house at the end of the path was an odd, ashy red color, reminding him of the deep red clay soil he had seen in the southern parts of the Great Plains. The farmhouse had at least two levels, with the first level's exterior appearing to be made of logs, while the upper level's newer exterior consisted of large shingles.

The upper and lower floors both had two large stained-glass windows, displaying a sizable red tulip surrounded by a simple green frame. A wide, cream-stone chimney split down the center of the house, and a similarly colored porch circled its front, where two intricate wrought iron chairs and a table sat, facing where Robin stood.

Robin let out a shaky breath, the gravel crunching below his boots as he made his way to the old farmhouse.

As he climbed the creaky steps of the chipped, cream colored porch, Robin noticed a large decorative knocker hung on the old oak door. Its black cast-iron shape was that of a woman's hand, clutching a wreath of holly and ivy. When Robin reached to grab the wreath, its leaves poked painfully into his hand, causing him to knock softly.

He stepped back and waited, but he received no response.

Robin reached to knock again when a voice rang out.

"State your business or feel my wrath!"

Suddenly, a large eye appeared in the center of the knocker's wreath, its deep brown iris narrowed at Robin with suspicion.

Robin jumped. He had never seen magic like this, even at the homes of the wealthiest sorcerers in Kingsbury. However, even more surprising than the sudden appearance of a large human eye in the doorknocker was that, despite the groveling tone and unidentifiable accent, the eye's voice seemed to come from a young child.

The eye continued to peer at him cautiously, its gaze roaming over Robin and his belongings as it awaited Robin's response.

"Oh, um. Hello, Miss Ivy. My name is Robin, and -"

"Whom are you?" the child interrupted, their voice filled with suspicion. "A new pear salesman? Sent from abroad to charm us into more pears? Hah! Well, enough with your tricks! We won't be taking any more pears for the foreseeable future. Thank you very much! Good day, and tally ho."

The eye shut and disappeared. Robin stood in confused silence for a moment.

A pear salesman? He had never heard of one of those.

After a moment of hesitation, Robin reached back for the knocker to knock again, reluctant now that an eye had been watching him from it.

Robin decided against using the knocker again, instead rapping his knuckles against the door.

"Miss Ivy, I'm not here to sell any pears."

"That's what all the pear salesmen say," the eye snapped, again glaring at him from the iron wreath.

"Um, what?" Robin laughed, taken aback.

He was sure that couldn't be true.

"Now be gone, Not-Pear-Man, before I curse you."

"No. Um, okay. Excuse me, Miss Ivy, but—I mean..." Robin cleared his throat, letting out a slow breath to ease the irritation in his chest. "I was told a jewelry sorceress lived here, and I am looking for my brother."

"HAH! Your brother is a jewelry sorceress?" the child mocked.

"No, I mean..." Robin began, quickly shaking his head as he waved off his explanation. He could tell he would end up talking in circles with this child. "Pardon me, young miss, but are you Miss Ivy? Is the sorceress home? I really must speak with her."

"She is at the market and should be back any moment, if you really must speak with her," the child replied irritably. "You may wait on the porch for her. But no funny business, Not-Pear-Man. This house is completely protected, and you will feel the wrath of a thousand crows should you try anything!"

The child began mimicking crow noises in her strange, groveling accent, only to be abruptly cut off as the eye closed and disappeared once more.

"Alright... I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, scary crow," Robin muttered in defeat, turning to sit at the small table on the porch and wait for the real Miss Ivy's arrival.

Robin pulled out his brother's letter and fiddled with its corners, feeling the occasional chill of being watched, as if the eyeball was popping in and out of the door knocker to spy on him.

After sitting for a few minutes in the uncomfortable cast-iron chairs and watching the horizon in vain for any signs of Miss Ivy, Robin decided to take a walk to calm his nerves. Granting himself some relief from the unwelcoming hot metal that poked into the behind of his travel-worn trousers.

Leaning over the railing of the cream balcony, Robin peered around the edge of the porch, careful not to stray too far from the knocker's watchful eye.

From his viewpoint, a large pond spread behind the house, with a small wooden bridge arching over one corner of it. On the opposite side of the pond, a bank of rocks and sand descended into the murky green water. Behind the pond's bank, spread a gated pasture where a chicken coop and an old red barn sat, both painted a similar color to the house. The pasture stretched further than Robin could see, but trees rose in the distance, indicating a dense forest beyond the gated land.

He was about to reluctantly return to his unforgiving seat on the porch when Robin heard the sound of hooves on gravel nearby. As Robin squinted into the distant haze, he could make out the forms of a white horse and a dark rider galloping outside the fence along Sunshine Acres.

The white horse's rider was wearing a wide-brimmed black hat with a train of black lace that concealed their face. The long, dark lace flew in the wind behind them as they rode, snapping in the wind like a veiled cape. The rider also wore a black leather jacket with red fringes along their arms, each strand ending in shiny red stones that glittered in the sunlight. Wide-legged black trousers trimmed with the same red fringe stood out strikingly against the white horse they rode, their black-gloved hands twisted into the horse's white mane.

Robin felt a shiver run down his spine at the rider's appearance.

When the horse arrived at the farmhouse, the rider gracefully swung off, landing softly on the dusty gravel path. Reaching up, they stroked the horse's neck, as the horse let out a loud snort.

Now that the two were closer, Robin noticed that the horse's body was all white, but its ears and mane were a light brown that faded into black—a color he had never seen on any horse before.

The rider gave the horse a singular, swift pat as they turned away from the beast. In response, the white horse released a loud whinny, and the animal suddenly reared up on its hind legs, towering over its rider.

When the horse landed back onto the dusty path, it had transformed into a small, fluffy white dog with brown and black ears, hopping around its rider's legs in excitement. The rider chuckled as they pulled a treat from their jacket pocket and bent down to give it to the small dog. The creature let out a huff as it quickly snatched the treat, sitting back with its tail wagging, and loudly chewing on its snack.

Neither of the pair seemed to notice Robin watching from the front porch. Or, if they did, they were ignoring him.

Despite his growing fear of the two beings before him, Robin cleared his throat to greet the rider and their small dog.

At the sound, the rider and their companion turned to look at him.

"Excuse the intrusion," Robin called politely, trying to hide the fear in his voice, "but are you the jewelry sorceress?"

The small dog's tail became a blur, quickly dropping its treat as it ran to Robin on the porch. Robin took a step back as the dog began jumping up against his legs, the small hound letting out huffs and whines for attention. Its small, pink tongue hung out in a welcoming grin.

Robin hesitantly reached down to pet the small white dog that demanded his affection, keeping his eyes locked on the dark stranger who stood before him.

"I might be, I might not be," the rider quipped, their feminine voice sounding amused. "It all depends on who's asking," The rider replied, watching Robin and the small beast with her head tilted, and her gloved hands at her hips, before swiftly approaching the porch where the pair stood.

"Oh, well, I'm—" Robin started, straightening up to introduce himself.

"Let's talk inside," the woman interrupted, pushing past Robin as she scooped up the small dog at Robin's feet.

Without another word, she heaved open the heavy front door with a leather shoulder, strolling through the open doorway.

Robin stood stunned for a moment, hesitant to enter the stranger's home, but as the woman disappeared through the door without a look back, Robin realized he had no choice.

He had to follow her.

Author's Note:
I got a few people asking about the legitimacy of trollies in small town Americana in the late 1800s, but they actually existed!
Here is a picture of some in Kansas!

They were the inspiration for the trollies in this world, although they run on magic and not being pulled by horses ❤️