The next thing he was aware of, which drove chickens completely from his mind, was a pair of brown eyes staring at him from out of a dark face. He hastily and awkwardly bowed.

“Your ladyship, sir,” he bumbled stumbling over his words and his feet at the same time as he tried to step aside.

“You may call me Priestess, slave,” the woman stated coldly, her white robes contrasted magnificently with her complexion. But to Michael, unused to foreigners, her appearance seemed bizarre and was disconcerting.

“If you will excuse me, Priestess,” Michael said bowing again, but the woman moved to bar his way.

“Your master will see me.”

“Well no, he is very busy–”

She swept past him and Michael found himself caught in her wake or, more literally, between her massive bodyguards.

“I am not asking.” Was all she said as they reached William’s study and she pushed the doors open.

William looked up from his desk and did not at all attempt to hide his irritation. He spotted Michael and his displeasure seemed to settle on Michael’s shoulders. He hunched under the weight and sidled behind one of the guards.

“I am not prepared to see you right now, lady,” William said sweetly with an insincere smile.

The Priestess bristled. “I am not afraid of you, sir, I will be heard. You pirates are becoming bold. The High Priestess of Yeshita has given me message for you.”

William’s face could only be described as wooden as he replied, “My pirates? Woman, I have no idea what you mean. The Pirates are ruled by Pan, not I. You may give me the message and go.” He held out his hand to receive the message, smiling slightly at the Priestess’s rage.

“It well known that Peter of Pan accepts hefty… gifts from you, sir, that his ships never bother your own.” The Priestess narrowed her eyes and her bodyguards crossed their arms over their massive chests.

“The message?” William repeated, unimpressed.

The priestess almost grated her teeth. “She say, ‘you release our citizen and return them unharmed or we be forced to take action.’”

William raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

“It. Is. Enough,” the priestess answered forcefully. She glared even harder when it failed to produce the desired effect.

William smiled in amusement and leaned forward. “How long will we be blessed with your company?”

“We leave in morning,” the priestess said shortly. She signalled to her guards and stormed out of the room.

Once she was gone, William turned to Michael, who found himself all alone in the middle of the room, and he felt like a rabbit in the sights of a hunter.

But William just said, “Get a message to Pan. Make sure her ship gets lost.”

As Michael left, William called after him, “Don’t forget the trolls.”

“Of course not, my Lord,” Michael replied, his heart sinking. He closed the door behind him and muttered quietly, “Who could forget the trolls?”

Arthur Globulus had hoped it would take a little longer for Thayne's absence to be noticed. He should have at least had until morning, it made him suspicious and not just a little worried about Thayne's safety.

He was sitting in his office, lost in thought when his door crashed open and the angry face of Nigel Nycknell loomed unpleasantly in his vision.

"My friend . . . "

"Don't 'friend' me Arthur, where is Thayne?" Nigel thundered.

"Yes where is our son?"

Arthur grimaced in an involuntary smile. He hadn't seen Dick Nycknell until the man had shouldered past his father into the tiny office. He caught a glimpse of a worried woman's face behind him and his discomfort rose considerably. The whole family was here.

"I couldn't tell you. Please . . . "

Nigel pushed forward again, his face red. "You don't know? You promised to look after him! I trusted you!" he started to pace the room; impressive, given the small space was entirely occupied. "Every year you kept him back, every year you insisted he stay. Whenever I brought up bringing him home, you always—”

“Headaches!” Arthur burst out, making Nigel pause. “Just last afternoon he told me they are getting worse, coming more often.”

Nigel frowned, struggling with his confusion to stay angry. Then he latched onto Arthur’s mistake. “I thought no one had seen him since morning.”

Arthur closed his eyes. “He came to me upset. I think his headaches bother him more than he lets on."

Nigel narrowed his eyes but then he relaxed and sighed, placing his hands on the desk so he could look Arthur in the eye.

"Stop trying to distract me, Arthur. What's going on?"

Arthur gaped, looking from Nigel to Thayne's parents. "I, it was—please trust me."

Nigel rolled his eyes and barked over his shoulder, "Wait outside."

"Father—"

"Now."

Dick and his wife left, but not without some angry looks at Arthur.

"What's this about?" Nigel asked as he sat in the visitor's chair and leaned back.

Arthur bit his lip. He had to tell Nigel something. The man wasn't going anywhere until he was satisfied.

Arthur sat in his chair, straightened his hat and leaned forward. "Nigel, you must believe I don't like this anymore than you but a true dream—"

It was Nigel's turn to lean forward. "You sent him off after someone's night fancy?"

"True dream, Nigel. They are hardly fancies."

"Poppycock is what they are," Nigel retorted. He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. "Visions," he scoffed. "Their interpretation are dubious at best."

"This one was perfectly clear—"

Nigel scowled and slammed his fist on the table, making Arthur jump. "They are never clear Arthur! How could you do this? Thayne can hardly function and you just send him out there alone? Do you know how hard his difficulties make him to track? We mightn't be able to find him . . . before—" Nigel coughed to cover the slight break in his voice. "If anything happens to him, I'm holding you responsible. Personally."

He stood and walked to the door, then turned and said coldly. "Good day, Professor Globulus."

Arthur stood and moved to follow him. "Nigel—"

"Globulus," Nigel cut him off went through the door and closed it firmly.

Arthur collapsed in his chair, his stomach roiling and wondered if Nigel was right and if he should have sent Thayne at all.