Megan Williams of Equestria

Chapters

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Nothing interesting happened at the checkpoint. At first, Megan thought this might be customs, but no. They just exchanged unintelligible banter before handing over what looked like gold coins, and then after signing a ledger, they were passed on through. Megan noticed that the griffin soldiers, again all female, wore a strange symbol on the crest of their armour. It was of an edged shield before a griffin. The griffin was soaring into the sky, its wings majestically spread out other either side while above its head, and two gladius swords were crossed over each other. The same symbol was on the horizon blue banner situated off to the side of the road, which flapped in the strong breeze that blew in from the ocean.

After this, they entered the city, or rather, the industrial sector. A few griffins plodded along the roads, but a good number of them soared high above. The roads appeared to be reserved for non-griffin traffic. Like their caravan. The buildings were wooden structures with stone supports. They appeared quite advanced. The smells coming from a good number of the buildings indicated that the economy here revolved around food. Not surprising considering how close they were to the sea. Fish smells dominated the air, and some griffins wore cloaks over their bodies as they entered and exited from the many warehouses that lined the road.

Finally, they reached a warehouse which caused the caravan to halt as the door was unlocked, and then slid open. The boar was ushered inside and once all were in, the door slid closed. No lights were lit to unravel the darkness as the griffins set to work. Megan suspected that they could see perfectly well in the dark. Her cage was lifted down and placed aside as item after item was removed from the boar. Finally, once it was all finished, the boar was lead over to a stall where it was led inside.

Megan could only look through her peephole as the griffins went about their business. The items that the boar had been carrying were divided into two piles. The ones that were sacks and barrels were separated from each other. Megan remained where she had been placed. She tried to distinguish the many griffins, attempting to make out any differences between individual's that would make it easier to identify them. The only real difference she could make out was that one of them, a rather big looking female, had head feathers that appeared to mimic human hair. These feathers were coloured red and black, like a striped pattern running across her head.

Growing bored with that, Megan tried to see what else of the warehouse could be seen through her tiny peephole. Nothing of significance. It was fairly small, with the boar's stall taking up about a quarter of the space. The rest appeared to be reserved for storing and crews quarters. There were a number of camp beds at one end of the building, which a few griffins were placing duffel bags besides.

After all activity ceased, the griffins then left the warehouse through the sliding door, locking it closed behind them. Once again, Megan was on her own. She leaned back from the peephole and groaned. This was going to be a long day.

She must have dozed off because the sliding door caused her to sit up with a start. She could hear the sounds of two griffins talking, and she leaned forward to look out through the peephole. She could make out Joan alongside a griffin wearing a hooded cloak. Behind them, the rest of the griffins shuffled in. They all walked over to the pile that contained the sacks, and Joan grabbed one, opening it up.

Inside were these bizarre red teardrop shaped things that were paper thin. Joan picked up one and tested it with her forepaws before the cloaked griffin. It looked like it was made out of metal. The cloaked griffin walked up and peered into the open sack, nodded, and then indicated to the others. Three griffins walked forth and opened up multiple sacks. They all contained the same teardrop shaped metal plates. A few were yellow. Megan's eyes narrowed as looking at them seemed to bring up a sense of déjà vu. A few of the sacks carried what looked liked large dinosaur bones.

Then Joan appeared to get excited over something as she led the cloaked griffin over to one particular sack and opened it up. Megan could not see what was in there, but the cloaked griffin gave an audible gasp. Then it too appeared to share Joan's excitement. Joan then pulled out a familiar looking contraption, the one with the jewel in its centre. It pointed it at the open sack, and the damn thing lit up like a Christmas tree, so much so that Megan had to turn away. The cloaked griffin nodded satisfactorily, and the griffins began closing the sacks up, and then to hoist them onto their backs, before heading out the door.

As the last of the sacks was closed, Megan's eyes went wide as it finally dawned on her, just what those metal plates were. Scales. Or to be more prices, dragon scales. They were the scales of the dragon that had tried to eat her. The frown deepened. What was so important about dragon scales? Her thoughts were cast aside as both Joan and the cloaked griffin were walking towards her cage. As they drew closer, she could make out more details on the other griffin and it caused her to frown. The other griffin looked different. Wrong almost.

They halted before her cage while Joan said a few more words, and then dramatically ripped of the sheet that covered Megan's cage. The griffin wearing the cloak was frozen for a split second before performing a rather comical double take at the sight of her. Megan rolled her eyes. Then frowned as the griffin moved closer. In the darkness, she noticed that its features were vastly different from griffins. In fact, it was not a griffin at all.

Failing to notice what Joan was doing, the griffin had moved off to the side to light a lamp, casting a flickering orange, yellow glow over the cage, and the surrounding area. At that moment, the new creature pulled back its hood. It was Megan's turn to perform a comical double take. She had been so used to dragons and griffins, that what stood before her caught her completely off guard.

It was a zebra.

It was an honest to God zebra. Although it was immensely shorter than a proper zebra, and more stocky to compensate for the lack of height, like a large dog. Its face appeared neutral, except for the constant twitching of its ears. It moved closer towards her, and then circled her, once, twice. Finally, it approached her cage, and put a fore hoof to its chin, almost mimicking a human thoroughly thinking. Megan nearly laughed.

Finally, it spoke to Joan in the griffin's tongue, shaking its head. Joan frowned, and spoke back, gesturing at Megan. The zebra gave Megan one more disbelieve look, before repeating what it said, more emphatically this time. Now Joan looked worried. Although her features were alien, many of the facial expressions she made were alarmingly human.

The zebra said something with a hopeful tone, to which Joan simply shook her head. She repeatedly pointed a claw at Megan as she spoke slowly as if trying to hammer home a point. The zebra turned to look at Megan, and then asked something that made Joan all flustered. The zebra's eyes narrowed in a pseudo human expression that seemed to ask, 'What are you hiding?'

The zebra then suggested something with a suggestive tone, to which Joan shook her head, a serious expression on her face that told the zebra not to ask that question again. The zebra sighed and spoke to Joan, who just made an unpleasant face. She looked from the zebra to Megan and back again.

Finally, Joan sighed in defeat and walked over to a bag beside one of the camp beds. She came back with a length of rope, along with some rags, and Megan instantly realised what was going on. She was going for a walk. Joan opened the cage door, and motioned for her to hold out her hands. Megan complied, and her wrists were tied and secured. Then she climbed out of the cage and waited. The zebra involuntarily took a step back as she rose to her full height.

Megan ignored it as Joan started placing the rags over her head arms, covering up as much of her exposed body as she could. Once she was done, Joan motioned for Megan to follow as she was led out of the warehouse and into the street. She shivered as the cold stone road stung her feet. She gritted her teeth as the wind howled around her in spite of all the rags over her arms and head. Damn it, she had to have to think of some way to tell Joan she needed her clothes back.

They walked down the street, encountering only a few griffins who gave curious stares at Megan. It was then that Megan realised that Joan had not covered her up to protect her from the cold. It was so that her human features would be hidden. However, for some strange reason, the instant they saw the zebra, their expressions turned into one of understanding as if the zebra were the explanation behind Megan. Every time a griffin got a glimpse of Megan, Joan appeared to get more and more irritated. It was as if Joan did not want Megan to be seen. Again, that would explain the rags covering her head, but she was the only bipedal creature she ever seen so far.

Their travels took them to another part of the warehouse district. This one smelt different. In fact, it almost smelt familiar. It took Megan only a second to comprehend why. It reminded her of the barn, back home. Where all the animals were kept. They came to another warehouse, this one much larger than the one she had been kept in. It was right on the dock, in fact the rear opened up to the large topsail schooner she had seen upon catching sight of the city. The zebra knocked on the door, and it was slid open. As they were ushered inside, Megan realised that the Zebra had given a rather fancy knock, much like one used to get into secret clubs in those old gangster movies.

Another zebra stood inside, holding the door open, and it appeared startled upon seeing Megan. Apparently, it was supposed to close the door right behind them for the zebra leading the way angrily snapped back at the door zebra in a language that was completely different to the griffins. The door was hastily shut, and the group moved on into the warehouse.

It was a zoo. Animals of all kinds were everywhere. Flamingos, alligators, so many different types of birds, chimpanzees, wolves, bears, lions, even a lone kangaroo. Towards the back, Megan saw an interesting sight. The griffins from her caravan were here. They were loading the sacks of dragon scales that they had onto the backs of other zebras, who in turn were walking out the back of the warehouse. Getting a through observation of the zebras, she could make out the different genders. The males were more stocky and defined with their muzzles while the females more slender and had shorter muzzles. The females also wore long, Egyptian eye make-up. That caused Megan to frown. How could you wear make-up over fur?

Nearby, stood a female griffin wearing a suit of armour that sported the same symbol similar to the ones she saw guarding the city entrance. She was standing by a desk, holding a bunch of papers in one hand, and a quill pen in the other. One of the other griffins sat opposite her, and as she professionally shuffled the papers, before placing them down before the griffin opposite it. The guard griffin was speaking in a monotone voice as she pointed numerous times at the sacks being loaded onto the zebras. She then reached into a bag around her waist, and pulled out more papers, adding them to the already large pile. She then handed the quill pen across and leaned back, waiting to see the response.

The said griffin placed the pen back in its ink well, and then reached down to slid a bag full of metal some things, for it clinked rather loudly as it was slid under the table towards the griffin guard. The guard idly glanced down at the bag, and reaching down, opened it up. Megan caught a glimpse of what looked like gold coins within the bag. The guard smiled and closed the bag up rather quickly. She then rose back up to the table, and taking the papers and the pen back from the other griffin, began filling them out.

Both Joan and the zebra she was with appeared pleased at the transaction that had just transpired. They started talking amongst themselves in the griffin tongue, an excited tone to their voices. Megan blinked in surprise. Did her griffins just bribe the customs department? Why? What was so special about those dragon scales that required them to be off the books? The customs agent blinked upon seeing her, and she heard Joan give a little growl of annoyance to the zebra who simply brushed it off. However the rags all over her prevented the griffin from completely seeing her and just like all the other griffins on the way over, she quickly lost interest. Instead, she picked up her sack of gold and left out the back. Her thoughts were interrupted as she was forced to keep moving.

They were escorted passed, over to a corner of the warehouse towards more cages. Then they came to a cage containing a gorilla. The animal in question was lying down on its side, and barely paid any attention to the three creatures before its cage. The zebra talked to Joan as it pointed at the gorilla. Joan, much to Megan's amusement, face palmed and began talking in an irritated tone, occasionally pointing at the gorilla and shaking her head.

The zebra listened intently, before shrugging its front shoulders, almost identical to the human gesture. It raised a fore hoof to its chin in thought, and then said something that Joan really did not like. She replied with an angry tone this time, and the zebra made apologetic and calming motions towards the griffin.

Megan would have given anything to understand just what was being said. She looked up at the gorilla, stilling not even bothering to acknowledge the presence of everyone before its cage. She cocked her head in thought. Was Joan trying to find out if more humans existed? She turned to look down at the zebra, before looking at some of the other animals in the warehouse. Was this zebra a trapper and seller of exotic animals? She turned her attention once more back to the gorilla and gave a satisfied smirk. Well, at least they had the right idea that she was some kind of ape, and not a monkey.

Observing the zebra with Joan, she was able to see the features of a male upon the zebra. So, it was a he. She did not know the zebra's name, but a quick glance around the warehouse quickly brought one to mind. P. T. Barnum. PT for short. Back on Earth, zebra's and gorillas both came from Africa. Did the same rule apply to this mixed up world too? Or some kind of African variant?
Then a thought popped into her head. Why not ask?

Megan coughed, grabbing the attention of both Joan and the zebra. She then said the Joan's real name, before pointing at the gorilla, and giving an exaggerated shrug. Joan was caught off guard and blinked. PT on the other hand just stood there, his jaw hanging loose in clear shock. Before Joan could say anything, the zebra let loose a torrent of alien babble directed towards Joan, jabbing a foreleg towards Megan. The griffin now took on a guilty appearance. She said something in a soothing tone, but it only served to aggravate PT even more.

Finally, Joan ended the conversation with a harsh sound that made PT wince. PT now took on a more apologetic tone but still did not lose his insistence. Whatever was being asked of Joan, the griffin just calmly shook her head in response. PT did not like the lack of answers and kept stealing furtive glances towards Megan. It was almost as if PT were afraid that the next time he turned his head, she would vanish.

Was PT trying to buy Megan from Joan? Why? She just made it clear she was not an animal but a thinking creature, capable of asking questions. The conversation abruptly came to a close when PT said something as he gestured towards a pouch on Joan's side. Megan recognised it as the storage pouch that contained that strange rock with the Jewel in its centre. Upon indicating it, Joan snapped something at PT that caused the zebra to take a step backwards.

With that, Joan grabbed the rope that held Megan's arms and unintentionally yanked hard, causing Megan to wince as she was jerked along. Joan was leaving. PT realised this and tried to stop her, but Joan just brushed right past him. As they left the warehouse, Megan cast one look back over her shoulder at PT. The zebra was busy talking with another zebra, making occasional gestures back towards her. The other zebra was listening intently, its eyes sliding to the side in order to get glimpses of Megan before Joan readjusted all the cloth coverings and finally, leaving the building.

Once outside, Joan led Megan straight back to their warehouse, their pace much quicker than the previous trip. Once inside, Joan rushed Megan back to her cage and gave a much satisfied sigh once she was safely locked away. Megan had no idea what had just happened.

She softly called out Joan's real name. Once she had the griffins full attention, she then gave what she thought was PT's real name. It was a word that she had heard Joan repeat often when talking to the zebra. She hoped it was his name. On the other hand, it could very well be 'Zebra' in griffin. After she said PT's name, she said Joan's name, then gave an exaggerated shrug.
Joan sighed. She pointed at herself, and then said her name. After this, she mimed a thinking pose. She then said Megan's name, and repeated the pose. Megan's eyebrows shot up with excitement. Joan truly did understand she was intelligent. She then pointed at Megan, said her name, and then pointed at herself, before giving the thinkers pose again. After this, she nodded.

She then pointed back at Megan, and spread her arms wide, encompassing the whole warehouse. She said two words, slowly. The first was followed by her name while the second was followed by PT's. Megan realised that she was telling her the names of their respective species. After this, she mimed the thinkers pose then shook her head.

So, if Megan could get a rough translation of what Joan wanted, Joan did not want her acting intelligent in front of the griffins or the zebras. The griffin reached through the bars to give her arm a soothing pat. She said Megan's name, followed by another word, which Joan accompanied with a smile. Megan realised that it was a positive word. She raised an eyebrow. Was this the griffin word for good? Joan repeated the words and gesture.

Megan pointed at herself, said her name and repeated the word. Joan nodded and smiled. Megan smiled back, and Joan jerked back. Megan froze, unsure of what she had done wrong. Joan sensed her distress and made calming noises. After settling back down, Joan said her name then pointed at her beak. She smiled, and this time, Megan saw that Joan's beak was closed as she did so. She then said the griffin word for 'Good.' Megan nodded. She then said Megan's name again, pointed at her beak, and smiled once more. This time, Megan noticed that her beak was open slightly. She shook her head and said another word. Megan mentally translated it as 'Bad.'

Megan gave an exaggerated shrug. What was wrong with the way she smiled? Joan sighed, and pointed to her beak, jabbing inside, towards the edges of the beak, and then made an exaggerated gesture of her own. A chomping motion. Megan almost cried out in understanding. They were afraid of her teeth. Looking at Joan's beak, she had not noticed they held no teeth of their own. Her mind flipped back to PT's warehouse. PT had smiled, but only with his mouth closed. He never once showed his teeth.

Megan rubbed her chin in thought. That would explain that time back at the griffin village her feeder had reacted so badly to her smiling at it. It would also make sense for a species that did not have any teeth to be deathly afraid of them. Megan nodded towards Joan. She said her name, and then tapped the side of her head. She smiled with her teeth, then shut her mouth and shook her head. She punctuated the understanding by saying the griffin word for 'Bad.' Joan smiled and nodded. Megan smiled back, this time keeping her lips closed.

Joan once more made soothing sounds, as she reached through the bars to pat Megan's arm, and then grabbing the sheet, threw it over her cage. Megan listened to the sounds of Joan's footsteps receding before the door slid open, then closed and locked. Megan smiled and pumped her fist in the air as best as she could within the confines of the cramped cage. She had made progress. Maybe with more time, she would get out of this damn cage. To Megan, the thought of being kept in a bird cage by birds was unsettling to her. Not to mention degrading.

Once more, being left alone gave Megan time to think about what she had seen. For starters, the night she first arrived on this world, it had not been a coincidence that she had run into both the griffins and the dragon at the same time. The griffins had been hunting the dragon for its scales and bones. She just happened to be the bonus prize.

Secondly, why had Joan taken her to the warehouse with PT if she clearly did not want anyone else to know that Megan was intelligent? And what was up with the gorilla? PT was a seller of exotic animals. Did Joan think that PT knew about her species? Was Joan trying to locate more humans? If so, why? Was there some big enormous threat to the griffins? Megan thought back to the dragon. The griffins were able to handle that pretty well, why would they need humans? What could be more powerful than dragons?

As she sat there, mulling over the bizarre equations, she heard the sounds of the door opening. Looking through her peephole, she saw a rather big looking female, had head feathers that appeared to mimic human hair. These feathers were coloured red and black, like a striped pattern running across her head. One of the griffins from Joan's caravan. She was leading a zebra into the warehouse. Was PT coming back?

Looking harder, she frowned. No, it was not PT. It was not even a zebra. It had the same build as one, but the fur on the front legs was an indigo blue. Plus the large grey cloak it wore obscured the rest of its body. There was a slight bulge in the hood, just above what should have been the creatures face.

The griffin led the hooded creature over to a pile of knapsacks. There, it quickly rummaged around in one. It kept making furtive glances over its shoulder at the door before it finally emerged with a large brown paper parcel. It handed over the parcel to the hooded figure who eagerly took it with its front hooves. It then gave the griffin a pouch which jingling sound as the bag of coins that had been used to bribe the customs agent.

The griffin opened it and squealed with glee. What happened next caught Megan off guard. The brown paper parcel then gained a blue aura around it, as it hovered in mid-air. Then it began to slowly unwrap itself. Only to the point where the hooded creature could observe part of its contents, before quickly wrapping it closed. Megan blinked in astonishment. The parcel was then levitated under the cloak and vanished from sight.

The hooded figure abruptly sneezed, and Megan was able to get a quick glimpse of a zebra like muzzle that was the same colour as its legs. The creature then made a harsh cracking sound as it moved its bottom jaw from left to right. The noise sent a shiver down Megan's spine, and she inadvertently groaned. The creature must have heard her because it turned in her direction all of a sudden. It pointed at her cage and made questioning sounds.

The griffin now looked nervous. Instead, she brushed off the questions, but pushed the hooded creature towards the exit. The hooded non-zebra obliged but kept casting curious glances back at her covered cage. Finally, both creatures left the warehouse, and she was once more alone.
Megan blinked. “Well that was short, but pointless,” she muttered. Thinking back on the scene that had just transpired before her, got her to thinking about Joan. It was obvious that there were secrets going on in this city, some of which the griffin herself was conspiring with. However, there were also secrets that even Joan was not aware of.

“The next question is, should I be worried about that?” It took a few seconds to realise that it was Megan herself who had said those words. Not surprisingly, no one answered her. She looked around for anything else that might keep her entertained, but alas there was not.

She must have dozed off because the sounds of rambunctious laughter abruptly filled the warehouse. She looked through her peep-hole and saw the griffins returning from wherever they had gone before. They were all talking excitedly amongst themselves, some even looking quite pleased. Megan watched as they headed over to their cots, and grabbed their bags.

Were they leaving already?

They all then shuffled over to her cage, looking for all the world that they were about to leave the city. Joan lifted up the sheet to grace Megan with a comforting smile, before dropping the sheet back down. She gave an order and the griffins all lifted Megan's cage up, and started carrying it out the front door.

They closed and locked the door behind them. So they were not leaving the city. Megan doubted that they would leave their pack boar behind. Instead of walking down the street, the Griffins attached a rope to the top of the cage, and with mighty flaps, lifted into the air.

Megan hung on for dear life as the cage swayed back and forth as the group began to gain altitude. Looking through her peep-hole was impossible as the view before her swung this way and that, also not helping her poor stomach. Although unable to see where they were going, she was able to determine that they were going up on an angle. From what she had seen of the city, Megan deduced that they were travelling up the mountain side. Or more importantly, travelling up to the buildings that were higher up.

Finally, the cage slowed its accent before finally, gradually lowering down to settle on a wooden floor with a dull thump. Joan snuck a quick peek under the sheet to make sure she was alright, and Megan was given a quick glimpse of a grand open doorway. Five guards stood watch over the entrance while a bright light showed from within. Past the entrance, lay some kind of foyer that ended in a large red velvet curtain. From behind this, echoed the sounds of laughter, music and other sounds she could not identify, all of which flowed out to mingle with the outside noises.

Outside the entrance, on the building, hung deep purple banners with a highly decorated outline of an elegant shield at its centre. Within the shield was an armoured griffin soaring towards the sky in a classic superman pose. Megan cocked her head. They were different from the banners she had seen at the entrance of the town. Not even the customs guard had sported that symbol.
Looking behind her, Megan nearly lost her stomach. Just as she had deduced, they were high up. They were up at the highest point in the city, that large mansion like building she had seen when they first arrived. The platform they were on, granted a view over the city below, the harbour and the ocean beyond. It would have been a rather pleasant view. If not for the fact that the share drop was two-hundred feet straight down, and the ledge that they were resting on may have been large, but sported no safety railings whatsoever.

After slating her satisfaction that Megan was indeed okay, Joan let the sheet drop and the cage was once more lifted up, and to her surprise, she was being moved in a direction that was not towards the entrance she had just seen. She had no idea where they were going, but there was a lot of grunting as the cage tilted on an angle, betraying the existence of stairs.

Eventually, they levelled out, and their footsteps creaked under the wooden floorboards much more loudly than before. From the sounds of the voices around her, they were in some kind of enclosed area. Looking through the peep-hole confirmed that theory. Then, were in a large open room.

Looking through, Megan saw a long wooden table, at which sat a large male griffin sitting on a large wooden throne like chair, a warm, welcoming was aimed at Joan. Behind him lay a deep purple banner with a highly decorated and more elaborate version of the banners she had seen outside the building at the entrance. Beside the big male griffin, female griffins sat at the table, along with a few males, and... She gasped. Was that PT? Her suspicions were confirmed when Joan pointed at the zebra and started squawking loudly, almost protesting. PT looked smug as he sat there. The big male griffin on the other hand, dismissed Joan's protests with a simple wave of his right forepaw and some gentle words.

Joan glowered at the zebra, before turning back to the big griffin and began talking in what sounded like a rehearsed speech. The big griffin cut her off halfway through and started speaking in a bored tone, with occasional gestures towards both Megan's cage and PT. Judging from the situation, Joan was bringing Megan here to show to this big griffin. From the way the said griffin spoke and the sly grin on PT's face, she was not going to be the surprise she was supposed to be. He then finished off his monologue with a series of low grunts that could easily be translated as, 'This had better be good.'

To Megan's surprise, Joan smiled back as she pulled off the sheet. Megan was now fully exposed to the whole room. It was a semi-circle shaped room, with overhanging lofts above. From these, multiple griffins in armour stared down at her. On the left side of the room, stood a huge grandfather clock, easily twice her height. She cocked her head at that. The inner workings were on display, and what they did display showed elaborate mechanical workings that looked highly above the technological level of these griffins. The walls were lined with paintings of either portraits of important looking griffins or landscape sized paintings of glorious looking battles. A good many of those battles were against other griffins. One painting showed the griffins duelling it out against a group of minotaurs. So, another mythological creature to add to the list of inhabitants of this world.

Looking at the minotaurs in the painting, they wore Linothorax armour and Corinthian helmets, modified to allow their large horns to fit comfortably through. They were armed with aspis shields and dory spears. In the painting, the minotaurs had been attempting a testudo formation against the griffins but the painting had them frozen in the process of the manoeuvre falling apart. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration at the painting as the griffins, raining flaming arrows upon the minotaurs, appeared to be sporting the banners of the emblem that was behind the big male griffin.

Looking at the other landscapes of triumphant battles, the griffin victors were all wearing or proudly displaying that banner. Scanning the room, she saw that yes, the griffin soldiers all sported armour that bore the symbol of the big male griffin. A question went through Megan's mind. Why would there be two different banners in this city? The other banners belonged to the city guards and customs, but not to the guards of her current host. Not knowing anything about griffin culture was maddening. Her host was obviously the ruling power in the city, so why were his soldiers not guarding the entrance or controlling customs?

Observing the paintings that showed triumphant battles, she noticed something very odd about them. They were older than most of the other paintings in the room. Many of the griffin portraits looked newer, hell, some of the paint on one or two looked fresh while the battles looked like they had been hanging around for a long time. The paint was faded and cracked all of them. There were no new paintings of glorious battles anywhere.

Unable to find a logical answer, her mind began to wonder around, leading her to spot another grand entrance way, blocked off by a red main curtain. This was situated behind her. Beyond that, came the distorted noises she had heard outside. There must have been some kind of grand hall or something back there. Joan had not wanted to take Megan through there for reasons she could only theorise. Judging by the way Joan had been rather annoyed at taking Megan out in the streets, it was pretty obvious she wanted as little people, or griffins, to know about her as possible. A gruff sounding chirp brought her attention back to the big griffin. He had an interested look on his face, but he was still unimpressed.

One of the guard griffins from high above said something that caused the whole room to erupt in laughter. Joan did not look annoyed; she looked smug. All eyes turned on her, expecting an answer of sorts. Instead, she turned to Megan, said Megan's name, and then said the word for good, adding a questioning tone to the end. Megan realised Joan was asking her if she was good. She was trying to prove that Megan could hold a conversation of sorts. That she was an intelligent being. Would this get her out of the cage finally?

Megan decided to gamble on the chance. She nodded emphatically, causing a few frowns, before answering Joan with a word she had heard repeated many times in answering a conversation that ended in a questioning tone. She had mentally translated it as the griffin word for yes. There were a few gasps. Eyebrows shot up all around. Megan smiled. So that was the right word. She then decided to roll with it. She said Joan's name and the word for good, indicating that she could do more than just repeat words like a trained parrot. It meant that she not only understood the meanings of the words, but knew how to apply them in a basic sentence. That was undeniable proof that she was sentient.

The surprised gasps were more audible and numerous this time. Joan was smiling broadly. She then started preaching to the audience, with occasional references to Megan. She finished off her speech with a worried pause as she shot PT an equally worried glance, before asking a question of the big male griffin that contained a reference to PT. He looked fascinated, but said a short sentence that contained the griffin word for 'No.' Joan looked over at PT who still looked smug, and reached into her side bag, pulling out that strange device with the jewel at its centre. She held it aloft for all to see, before pointing it directly at Megan.

As always, it failed to glow when pointed at her. Megan rolled her eyes. What on earth was that thing? Her thoughts faded away as she became aware of something else. The lack of noise within the room. All eyes were staring directly at her, disbelief clearly visible. Even the big male griffin looked stunned. PT on the other hand looked like a salesman who had been ambushed by a fatal flaw in his pitch. Joan once more shot him a worried glance, before launching into another speech, occasionally pointing at PT, who was beginning to shoot daggers at the female griffin. All eyes constantly flicked back and forth between Joan and Megan.

Once she finished, she looked expectantly towards the big male griffin, who was still looking flabbergasted. One of the females beside him had to discreetly nudge him in order to get him to respond to whatever Joan had said. Now the griffin spoke softly as he pointed at PT. PT's smug confidence vanished, and he started shouting in rushed sentences at the griffin as two guards dived upon him, landing on either side and started pushing him towards the exit. Other griffin guards up in the rafters readied what appeared to be stone bows should the situation turn nasty. Thankfully, it did not. PT's shouting was almost pleading as he was escorted from the room. Finally, as he reached the curtain, he gave up, turning around and leaving with dignity. Not before shooting Joan one last angry glare.

All present watched as PT left, after which the big griffin gave a signal to those guards and with a nod, they walked through the curtain after PT. Megan was able to get a quick look at them taking up positions outside the door before the curtain fell back into place. Then, all attention was once more focused back upon Joan. Puffing her crest feathers out in triumph, she walked into the centre of the room and started up another rehearsed speech, aimed at the big male griffin. All in the room listened intently to what Joan had to say this time. There was no interruption. When she finished, at least a good solid chunk of the griffins extolled the speech. Some gave worrisome looks. A few looked like they had been sold something they did not understand.

The big male griffin, Megan sighed. He needed a nickname too. Observing him, sitting in his large wooden seat reminded her of a throne. Okay, a king's name, but what would be appropriate? Looking to either side of him, she once more paid attention to the numerous female griffins that flanked him. She smiled. He would be Henry the Eight.

Henry looked both worried and interested at the same time. Clearly what Joan was pitching appealed to him, but whatever it was also carried great risk, most likely for him. He kept making nervous glances towards the curtains and the noises that flowed in from the other side. This confused Megan. If both Joan and Henry were trying to be inconspicuous, why were they taking such massive risks with so many witnesses close by? Was there some kind of schedule that could not be delayed? Was there a time limit of sorts that was fast running out?

Henry then started speaking, slowly and deliberately. Watching the other griffins, Megan saw many of their faces beaming with joy. Joan herself looked overjoyed with what she was hearing. A few faces were worried. Megan was beginning to suspect that whatever gamble that Joan was proposing, the answer that Henry gave must have been akin to betting the entire house on it. That would explain the few worried faces and even a solitary alarmed one.

That griffin then rose and spoke in a careful speech towards Henry. Those faces that had been worried, nodded in agreement to the griffins words. The rest were neutral. A few looked as if they did not want to hear what was being said. Henry sighed heavily and spoke calmly in reply. It went for a while, eight minutes. When he finished, the griffin who had spoken up looked conflicted. He opened his beak to say something, but instead closed it. He nodded and sat down. Those who had supported him looked annoyed that he had given up.

Megan in turn had her own worries. What had she just gambled on? What if she could not deliver whatever it was that they wanted? Would they kill her if she could not? For all she knew, these griffins could have been expecting her to construct a thermonuclear weapon. She inwardly groaned at not thoroughly thinking this through.

Her train of thought derailed as Henry made a gesture towards her. Joan reached through the bars to pat her arm reassuringly. Megan looked worried until the sheet was once more thrown over her cage, and she was lifted off the ground. Her worry turned to curiosity as she realised that they were not going back the way they had come in. They were heading in a different direction. Stairs once more made their presence known, and Megan realised that they were going up even further.

To where? The attic? From the constant shifts in her balance, they were travelling up a winding staircase. Then her carriers levelled out onto flat ground. Finally, her cage was set back down on the ground, and Joan lifted up the sheet to greet her with a smile. She patted her arm again, and said Henry's name, followed by the word for good. She said Megan's name and the word for good again. She looked at Megan for a response. Megan rolled her eyes. What exactly could she do or say?

Then she knew. She said Joan's real name, then pointed both fingers at the ground, before giving an exaggerated shrug. Why am I here? She hoped that translated across. Joan looked perplexed, not by the question, but rather how to answer it Megan suspected. Instead, she just patted her arm once more, and then said the word for good, before pointing back in the direction they had come. She said Henry's real name and pointing at Megan, said her name and followed it by the word for good. She then dramatically paused, before miming opening the cage door.
Megan's eyes went wide. If she interpreted that right, it would mean be good for Henry, and you can get out of this cage. Megan said 'Yes,' and punctuated it with an enthusiastic nod. Joan smiled and let the sheet drop back down.

Megan listened to the sounds of the griffins retreating, before locating one of her many peepholes to look through. She was in some kind of attic. Well, she suspected so, for the wall she faced was slanted on an angle, with a large window allowing the moonlight to spill in across her cage and the floor. Before her, lay a highly decorated rug with an image of what looked like three horses upon it. Megan cocked her head. No, not horses. Horse-like beings!

On closer examination, she saw that all three of the horse creatures were different. The one at the rear was a regular horse, but the middle one had wings. A pegasus? The one at the front had a horn. A unicorn?

Pegasi? Unicorns? Why not? Griffins, dragons, zebras, minotaurs. She would not put it past this crazy world. The scene on the rug showed the three horse beings bowing down to two unicorn monarchs. The king and queen? It was impossible to tell as both sat in a ridged posture, head held high wearing jewelled crowns and decorated robes as the other horse beings all lined up to deliver their gifts. These included gems and fancy clothes of sorts. Why would unicorns need clothes? Situated above the horses in the centre of the rug was a strange symbol. It was a series of star patterns that reminded her of the constellation Southern Cross.

Looking around, there was not much else up here to observe. Plus, in spite of the moonlight, it was too dark to see what else lurked at the edges of the darkness. So, with a resounding sigh she leaned back and tried to get some sleep. On the bright side, that damn boar was finally out of her life.

***

“So what did you do, Grandpa?” Megan asked.

Sitting before her grandfather, at the tender young age of 12 years, Megan could not help but be riveted to the cushion she sat upon, as her grandfather regaled both her, Danny and Molly of his most daring adventure during the war.

His B-29 bomber had been returning from a mission when they'd been ambushed by a squadron of MiG fighters and, unfortunately, shot down. Grandfather had managed to escape, but only four others of the bombers eleven man crew had managed to escape.

As he and his surviving crew mates were approaching the front line, they had hit a snag. There was a large enemy encampment that was impossible to negotiate around. They had to go through the camp and the make matters worse, patrols were everywhere. How were they going to get through the enemy camp to friendly territory? Sitting ridged before her grandfather, Megan wasn't sure how even she could pull it off without the aid of a great fairy wand.

“The answer was simple,” he said with a wink. “We managed to sneak into the camp, and just strode around camp like we owned the place.” Both molly and Danny gasped.

“Were you caught?” Danny asked. Grandfather smiled at him.

“That was part of the plan,” he said. “Sneaking into the camp from the rear was the easy part. The hard part was moving around. There were no shadows for us to hide in because there were lights everywhere.” He gave a low chuckle. “Pretty dumb considering, but then again, what did you expect from Communists.”

“So what happened?” Danny cried, almost shaking with excitement.

“Before we made our first step into the camp, we waited and watched. We worked out the shift rotation of the sentries, it was almost clockwork. While waiting, we noticed that there were Russian officers in the camp. That was when I came up with the second phase of the plan. We waited until the sentry's shift was nearly up, when they were tired, and not as alert. That is when we went strolling on through.”

“Were you seen?” Danny had his hands up before his mouth in fear.

“Oh yes, we were,” Grandfather said with a laugh.

“W-what did you do!?”

“Well, before I answer that question, I am going to ask you one,” he said. “How does a magician pull a rabbit out of his hat?”

“Magic,” Megan said. Her grandfather shook his head.

“There's no such thing as real magic,” he answered. “Only illusions.”

“Then how does he do it, Grandpa?” Molly asked. Their grandfather leaned forward towards Molly, holding out both hands. Then with a quick flick of his wrist, he produced a playing card between the front two fingers of his right hand. Megan's eyes went wide.

“He distracts the audience,” Grandfather answered.

“So, you distracted the guards?” Megan asked.

“That's it,” Grandfather answered. “We walked along as a group. The first sentry we came across, I called out to him in Russian. This caused the soldier to pause. Then, I said to him in bad Chinese, 'What's the matter? Don't you know how to salute?'”

“Did it work?” Megan almost shouted.

“It sure did,” he said with a broad grin. “The soldier not only saluted, but turned about, and headed in the opposite direction. I knew the soldiers would be tired from the sentry duty, and not as alert near the end of their shift, that they would not question a Russian officer, whom they were probably used to giving orders, walking around at night.” He paused. “Nearly all the soldiers were conscripts, peasants that hadn't been trained too hard. All the proper soldiers would be in the trenches, not performing guard duty. They'd be more concerned with clocking off and going straight to bed.”

“And that is how you got through enemy lines?” Danny asked.

“Yep,” Grandfather said. “However, we did not push our luck after that. We kept to what little shadows there were, and sneaked through to the enemy trenches. Getting through them proved more difficult, as these were proper soldiers, not peasant conscripts.”

“What happened?” That was Molly. Grandfather smiled.

“Well, we ran into a soldier on duty and we thought we were done for.” Both Molly and Danny gasped audibly. Megan just tightened her hands on her knees. “Out of desperation, I tried the Russian officer bit.” He paused for dramatic effect. “But it did not work.” Molly let out a little scream.

“But you escaped, right?” Megan quickly added.

“Yep,” Grandfather answered. “You see, the guy was educated, and realised that we weren't escaped prisoners, but downed airmen. That is when I remembered something my commanding officer, a World War Two vet once told me. A trick POW's would use on prison guards and the locals. This soldier was no prison guard nor peasant farmer mind you, but I took a gamble. And it paid off. Turns out he had a massive sweet tooth, which we were more than capable of satisfying.” He laughed. “Enemy soldier or prison guards, all people love chocolate.”

“You... bribed him?” Megan asked.

“Sure did,” Grandfather answered with a laugh. “We practically loaded him down with all our candy rations, and he just pointed in the direction of our lines and it was pretty much, 'See you later alligator.' We were careful crossing no-man's land, but I nearly died when this cockney voice suddenly shouts out, 'You four there, hands up!'” He laughed out loud. “I never thought I'd be so grateful to see a Limey in my entire life.”

Both Danny and Molly applauded as Grandfather's tale came to an end. Megan just sat in awe. Not only at the story of her Grandfather's clever escape, but something else.

“How did you do that card trick, Grandpa?” Megan asked.

***

Megan never got her answer. The sound of a wooden hatch being opened dragged Megan back to reality. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and looked around. Then rolled her eyes as she realised that the sheet was still covering her cage. Looking through the peephole, she could see it was still night outside, but the moon was no longer visible through the large window.

As if on cue, the sheet was pulled off, revealing a griffin, carrying a bowl of soup, complete with spoon, and a goblet of water. “Oh goody,” Megan said sardonically. “Room service.” The griffin seemed startled by her voice, but none the less approached her cage. As it unlocked the door, Megan realised it was nervous. She was about to reassure the griffin when she stopped. Its eyes were darting around, as it handed Megan her soup bowl. It wasn't nervous about her. It was nervous about something else.

Megan frowned. What was up with this guy? No, girl. How Megan had missed the armour she was wearing, which was staring her right in the face, was too embarrassing to think about. What was interesting to think about was the griffin herself. After closing the door to Megan's cage, she took a step back and watched her eat. Megan was both curious and alarmed at this. None of the other griffins had stuck around while she ate before.

She cocked her head in thought. What if this griffin was being ordered to stick around and make sure she ate her meal by Henry? Were they trying to make sure she was comfortable in her new home? That sent her down another path of thought. Was Joan about to leave her? She still ate all the while. Being fed only twice a day did make one hungry enough to eat whenever the opportunity arose.

She finished her soup and washed it down with the goblet of water. To her surprise, the water was chilled. She raised an eyebrow at that. If they did not have refrigeration, how did they chill the water? As she pondered that question, she began to notice an odd tang to the water.

Unfortunately, it came too late as she did not catch on until the goblet was fully drained. It had been there on the background of her tongue. A metallic taste of sorts, very faint. Now that she'd finished the drink, it was strong in her mouth.

Looking up, she saw that the griffin was now relaxed. Now it was Megan's turn to be worried. What was in that water? She rubbed her tongue around the inside of her mouth, trying to get a feel for what that metallic tang was. She crossed the possibility of poison off the list. Considering the lengths that Joan went to not only keep her alive and healthy but try to win her over to her side, it would be counter-intuitive to kill her now.

She eyed the symbol on the griffins armour. It was the one of Henry's group. She looked back up at the griffin and saw that she was now looking confused. Megan just gave the griffin a confused look back. Then she decided to ask it. She coughed, grabbing the griffin's attention, before pointing at the goblet, then giving an exaggerated shrug. It took a step backward. The look on its features was one of shock.

It did not take long for Megan to realise that it wasn't reacting to her being intelligent, it was reacting to the fact that she knew something was in her drink. Now the worry gave way to nervousness. The griffin looked behind her, then all around the room. “Way to be inconspicuous,” Megan said to the griffin, startling the bird once more. Again, she looked down at the empty goblet. It would not be poison. So what was it? She frowned.

Then snapped her fingers in triumph, startling the griffin yet again. “Drugs,” she cried. She cursed herself for not figuring it out before.

Something she should've realised way sooner, but didn't, was the dart that the griffins shot her with when she first arrived. It was drugged. However, it had taken its sweet time affecting her. In the meanwhile, she'd fallen down a hill, was nearly eaten by a dragon, and went for a mad dash through the forest before it finally began to make her feel drowsy. In all the time that had passed between then and now, she'd never once stopped to think about why it had taken so long for it to start working. Well, in her defence there was a hell of a lot that was shoved in her face at the time. Thinking about less than effective drugs was a long way down the list of priorities.

Now she was back at that particular junction again. If that were the answer, then she would not begin to feel sleepy for a while. However, that was not her major concern at the moment. That title belonged to the reason 'why' she was being drugged. Was this part of Joan's plan?

Looking at the nervous griffin, she wasn't able to tell. It could be that this griffin was just a patsy, ordered by Joan to drug her so that Megan would not know it was her. Was it something else? A missing piece of this bizarre puzzle that she had yet to grasp with her mind. If so, why did it involve her?

Meanwhile, the griffin was now panicked. It was pacing on the spot, casting more and more nervous glances behind her. Finally, it turned to hiss something back down the way it came. Megan could not see the hatch it had come from, but heard something else come up through. This one was another griffin guard. She looked baffled by the inaction of the drugs, but not worried as she stood there, rubbing her chin in deep thought.

Then it turned and said something to its panicky comrade. The griffin in question seemed unsure of the answer, and the other griffin just rolled her eyes. She stepped forth and opened up the cage, gesturing for Megan to hold out her arms. Megan was about to comply when she stopped. What was being asked of her was to hold out her arms so that they could tie her wrists together. That translated into 'She Was Going For A Walk.' Where and why?

As she looked closer, she saw something that looked familiar. The griffins head feathers were a combination of black and red. Her eyes widened. She was one of the griffins who worked with Joan, who had come into the city with the caravan.

She shook her head, and pointing towards the hatch, said Joan's real name. The griffin which was trying to get her out blinked then shook her head. She once again made the gesture for her arms, more vigorously this time. Megan repeated her demand, and punctuated it by folding her arms across her chest. The griffin once again demanded her arms, this time with a hint of anger in her voice.

She did not like the idea of going with these griffins. She was beginning to suspect that what they wanted to do with her wasn't what Joan wanted. She did not want to swap one unknown for another. She said Joan's name and yes, before holding up her wrists to show she'd let them be tied up. Then she said Joan's name and no, before folding her arms and shaking her head.
The griffin face-palmed. The one behind it was now looking so nervous it was almost cartoonish. The griffin gave an exaggerated sighed, and with a shrug of defeat, tried to get Megan to come out once more, this time, pointing to the hatch and saying Joan's name.

Megan sighed. The damn bird just didn't get it. She held up the goblet and pointed into it. She dipped her finger in, running around the edge before holding it up for the griffins to see, before sticking it in her mouth and sucking on it. She then mimed going to sleep, before asking the griffin word for yes, adding a questioning tone to it. The griffin which was trying to get her arms gave her a serious look, before turning to her companion. They spoke back and forth, before finally turning back to Megan, and said yes.

Megan nodded. She hated to reveal the fact that knew they were trying to drug her, but she had no choice. Whether they were taking her to Joan or not didn't matter. What did matter was that they had drugged her, and she now understood that their drugs take some time before they knocked her out. Since she could not put a time limit on when the drugs would kick in, a walk to an unknown destination could lead to her passing out in the middle of the street, exposed to the elements and whatever hostile parties were out there.

Considering that there were secrets in this city that Joan both knew and didn't know about, she just couldn't take that big a risk.

Why they were taking her for a walk Megan could only guess. Since their drugs didn't work, they would probably assume that they wouldn't work, period. There was no way they would know it takes time. Remembering the huge grandfather clock downstairs, she hoped that her next attempt at communication would work. Again, she held up the goblet and pointed into it. She dipped her finger in, running around the edge before holding it up for the griffins to see, before sticking it in her mouth and sucking on it. This time, she moved her arms as best as she could, and imitated the hands on a clock, ticking. She even added little tick, tick sounds. After doing that, she mimed going to sleep.

The griffin who'd been trying to coax her out did a double take. She turned to the griffin behind her and immediately started up a highly animated discussion, with gestures in every direction. The other griffin tried to calm down her companion, before suddenly coming up with an idea. She managed to get her friend to pause long enough to start explaining some new plan, to which the other griffin listened intently.

When the plan was finished, the griffin rubbed her beak in thought. Then she nodded. The other griffin reached in and started patting her arm, making soothing noises, before gesturing her to come out. Megan shook her head, adding the griffin word for no.

The griffin's paw gripped her arm all of a sudden, and Megan was yanked out of the cage. It all happened so fast, she was caught off guard and could only let out a startled yelp as she landed on the wooden floor. Before she could move, there was a heavy weight on her back, and her limbs were secured with rope before she could even blink.

“Hey!” Megan shouted, as she twisted her head to look up at the griffin that she now realised was sitting on her back. “What the f--!” Her voice was muffled as a cloth of sorts was shoved into her open mouth; so far in she almost choked on her own tongue as it was rammed up into the back of her mouth from the impact. Then another cloth was used to blind her. She thrashed around like a fish out of water, before clawed hands held her down.

She winced and cried out as the claw tips scratched her skin, and she stopped fighting. A clawed hand patted her head as she calmed down. She was lifted up off the ground, carried a short distance towards an open crate, then carefully, they heaved her up and over, before lowering her down gently inside. Once inside, they placed the lid back and immediately sealed it.
Megan tried to yell and move, but the ropes were tied so that any sharp movement caused pain to shoot up her arms and legs. She quickly stopped trying to shout too, as the gag in her mouth was pushed so far in that any attempts to scream proved impossible. Megan could not see much encased in the darkness of the crate, but she was able to manoeuvre her face towards a small hole in the wood.

The griffins seemed satisfied that she could not be heard from outside the crate. They nodded to each other, before suddenly turning and squawking loudly, making a terrible racket, as they flew straight for the exit.

Megan could not help but ponder what their plan was, before they returned with five more griffins in tow, Joan among them. They pointed to her open and empty cage, accompanied by frightened and confused squawking. They then picked up the goblet that held the drugged water and pointed to it, still keeping up their fast paced talking. Joan took it and thoroughly examined it. She abruptly threw the goblet aside, looking and sounding volatile.

She began squawking much louder than the other griffins had, as she started pacing on the spot. Megan recognised PT's real name mentioned over and over again. Megan so wanted to let Joan know where she was, but she could not make any sounds nor could she thrash about and make noise. Suddenly, Joan turned and shouted out something harshly, and all the griffins tried to exit through the hatchway at once, three stooges' style. The sight would've been comical had they not somehow managed actually to fit through the hatchway. Joan herself followed suit, her loud squawking echoing up from down below.

Megan just lay there, inside the crate. She'd been kidnapped again. This time, by an unknown party. Joan at least felt like a weird friend of sorts. Even if she did drug her, and keep her in a cage. She was still nice to her and had even promised to get her out of her cage. The real question now was who had kidnapped her? Would they be as kind to her as Joan? From the racket that Joan made, it would appear that the guilty party was setting up PT to take the fall. She frowned in deep thought.

Or be the distraction.

How does a magician pull a rabbit out of his hat?

The question rolled around inside her head as she lay there. Hours seemed to tick by in a boredom that was slowly eating at her sanity. Not being able to move an inch was maddening. Finally, she felt drowsy.

So, the drugs were finally kicking in. She cursed herself for not timing the effect. Then again, she did not have her watch. Her eyelids felt heavy as she sighed and just gave up. It was no point fighting the drugs. They'd win just like the last time. As they closed and refused to open, she could only pray that whatever would happen next, wouldn't be a worst case scenario.

***

Megan leaned back in her chair, plucking at the strings of her guitar, attempting a fast rendition of Kenny Rogers’ 'The Gambler.' Beside her, her father lounged in his chair, listening with a pleasant smile on his face.

“You got to know when to hold 'em,” Megan sang. “Know when to fold 'em; Know when to walk away; And know when to run; You never count your money; When you're sittin' at the table; There'll be time enough for countin'; when the dealin's done.”

Keeping up the fast tempo proved more difficult than she first thought, as she struggled to move her fingers into place for following notes. The song abruptly ended when Megan's fingers slid off the top strings, making a loud, off-key screech that caused her father to wince. Megan grunted in annoyance.

“Don't be too hard on yourself, Megan,” he said, sitting up. “You were doing quite well there.”
“I almost had it,” Megan said a slight hint of irritation slipping through her words as she flexed her fingers. “I always have trouble proceeding through the notes during that part of the chores. My fingers just don't move fast enough.”

“Calm down,” her father insisted. “Christ on his cross girl, you're not superwoman. You cannot do everything right. You're always going to make mistakes.” He smiled warmly at her. “You know, you've been improving greatly since you started. Heck, that time you hardly made any at all. Do you remember the first time you tried it at that pace?”

Megan rolled her eyes. “I would rather not,” she said. Her father nodded his head.
“Exactly,” he replied. “You are getting there. Slowly but surely, you are getting there. As the old saying goes, Rome wasn't built in a day.”

“But I'm not getting there fast enough,” Megan complained. “Granddad said he had songs more complicated than this, mastered when he was half my age.” Her father frowned.

“Dad comes from a different upbringing, Megan,” he said. “You've got to stop comparing yourself to him. Your talent will improve with practice, but it won't improve if you keep trying to live up to impossible expectations. Granddad was forced to play the guitar. You asked to.”

One side of Megan's mouth twisted in indignation. “But why can't I get that one verse right? I've practised till my fingers are numb.” She flexed the said appendages.

“You cannot always get everything right, Megan,” her father answered with a sigh. “You'll always do something wrong. The real answer you should be looking for is how you handle the outcome. When you make your mistake, you will be faced with a choice. The choice you make will determine how you manage other such problems. You can cry and moan about it, or you can do something about it. Remember, it's not about falling down, it's how we pick ourselves up is what counts.”

“Yes Zen master,” Megan said with a mocking salute.

Her father cocked an eyebrow, and then smiled. “Well, if you are not going to play, why not let me?” He held out his hands. Megan clutched the instrument to her chest as if it were a life preserver.

“No way,” she teased. “I like having my hearing intact.” Her father answered the jibe with a mock hurt expression, before both of them laughed.

“So, what are you going to do?”

***

Sunlight.

Megan winced as a sliver of the sun's rays was mockingly stabbing her right the eyes. She grunted, but no sounds were forthcoming due to the large cloth gag in her mouth. Good God, her head felt like someone was inside pounding on a base drum. She tried to raise her head but found any attempts at movement were blocked by something hard, with a wooden feel to it.
She opened her eyes and immediately regretted doing so as the sun light went right through her eyeballs to ricochet around inside her throbbing skull. She managed a muffled growl as she slammed her eyelids shut. Trying to move her whole body was impossible, as not only was her movement blocked by the wooden objects, but her limbs were held together with something that felt like rope.

Rope?

She momentarily calmed herself down as the events of last night returned to her like a smack on the side of the head. She sighed. Cracking open one eyelid just a slither, she attempted to move her head out of the sunlight. That proved impossible due to the confined space she was located within. With another sigh, she closed her eye.

She had so many questions. Where was she? Was she still back in the attic, or somewhere else? Had she been rescued? No, she'd be out of this crate if she were. Would her new kidnappers let her out? Would they be better or worse than Joan?

With nothing else to do, she strained the only other of her senses she could use in this situation: her hearing. There was much creaking. Wooden creaking. It almost sounded like those old sailing ships in movies.

Then there was a new sound. Footsteps. Many footsteps. They were stomping above her. Strangely, not too far above her. There were voices, as well. Two. One sounded agitated, the other was more calming, almost soothing in nature.

The sunlight was blocked from her view as the footsteps came to a sudden stop, allowing Megan to open her eyes. She was still inside the crate she'd been stuffed into, but it was now clear that she wasn't in the attic anymore.

Then she paused. She knew one of those voices. The agitated one was Joan. She could not make out the other. Although muffled by the layers of wood between them and the language barrier, Joan sounded like she was cursing a blue streak. The other voice was calm and precise. Whatever they were saying only furthered Joan's anger. There was a stamping of a foot, followed by some very stern, but calm words. Joan was silent, and then sighed. Her voice now took on an apologetic tone.

Megan wanted to let Joan know she was down here, but she could not make any sounds. Her body was tightly constrained so she could not bash a limb or something against the wooden crate. She could only lay there, listening as Joan explained something in great detail. Finally, it was the other person’s turn to sigh. They gave hopeful idea, to which Joan gave no answer.

Then they gave another hopeful suggestion. This time, Joan grunted in agreement, and the two turned about and left. Megan listened to the sounds of their footsteps receding with helplessness. She could not even do anything to let Joan know she'd been standing right above her. Who was this mystery person, why did they want to steal her, and why did they want to blame PT?

Her mind travelled back to the dining room last night. PT had not exactly been subtle when he was thrown out. Who ever had kidnapped her had no doubt saw that and figured PT would be the easiest to blame. So who was it? A rival to Henry the Eighth? Again her mind wandered this time to those griffins with the other symbol on their armour.

That again got her to thinking about the power balance in this city. Who did those other griffins represent, and how come, if they could so brazenly control the law and order of the city, did they have to resort to sneaking her out? If they were blaming PT, and detaining him, then they could sneak her out through the harbour on one of the many ships she saw.

Whatever the answer was, she would be finding it out soon.

The sun's movement across the sky was measured by the sunbeam that was shining in her face. Eventually, it moved out of her eyes, allowing Megan to be able to use them. But it was a fat load of good when she was encased in total darkness. Even when her eyes began to adjust all she could see was the wooden walls of the crate. Looking up, she could make out the light shining down through the cracks. It would be interrupted now and then as someone walked across the wooden floor above.

She grew so bored that she even tried to go to sleep. However the constant noises prevented that from happening. She thought she'd be able to do it since she'd been so used to the giant boar's snoring. So she waited. And waited. And waited.

The sun had long since vanished from the cracks in the wooden crate when there were three loud bangs from above her. Something opened, and her crate was being moved. She was lifted up from below, up onto a wooden floor. Then, the lid of her crate was pulled off.

Megan blinked up and squinted at the light that was shone into her face. She tried to tell them to shine it elsewhere, but the cloth gag only allowed her a muffled grunt. Besides, it wasn't like they'd understand her. Instead, she tried to turn away. There was a soothing voice, and the light was lowered. Looking up, her eyes bugged wide, almost threatening to pop out of their sockets. Hovering above her, looking in, was the last creature she expected to see.

It was PT.

PT had kidnapped her? Why? Why would he do so, if he knew that Joan would come straight to him? Hell, she did so. She must have even come back, considering that there was no way in hell he would've been able to slip her aboard his boat without her seeing. She paused. Or was there?
How does a magician pull a rabbit out of his hat?

If PT were going to kidnap her, it would be pretty damn obvious to anyone who the culprit would be. She remembered that she had not been moved out of the attic, but hidden there. They'd called in Joan, told her that she was gone, and Joan had gone straight to PT. So, if he was the first person they'd come to, they'd search his place from top to bottom, tear everything apart, and they would not find her. She would be still back in the attic.

So, if they didn't find her at PT’s when they first went there, then they wouldn't be so thorough in searching the place later on. Or they wouldn't be so vigilant if he were loading cargo, or crates onto his ship. He'd slipped her through, literally right under Joan's nose.

Now the most important question: what next?

That was answered when hooves appeared and lifted her out of the crate and onto the wooden floor. They were in a ship all right. The wooden walls that surrounded them could not be anything else. What else surrounded her were zebras. Not only PT, but five others.

PT appeared over her with a knife clutched in his mouth. Her eyes widened with fear, and he must have seen this, for he suddenly reached out with a hoof, and stroked her skin softly, reassuringly, just as Joan had done many times before. Megan stopped shaking, but the fear did not leave her. PT saw this and gave a quick swipe of his head. Megan tried to scream, but she felt not stinging pain of metal slicing through flesh. Instead, her arms and legs fell free.

Run. That was the first thought that went through Megan's mind. But she did not. The rational part of her brain reminded her that she was surrounded. She probably wouldn’t make it to her feet before they pounced on her. Instead, she looked up at PT, now minus the knife. He smiled back down at her, and gestured for her to stand.

Rising to her feet felt weird, after so long being cramped in that cage, and then that crate. She was still wearing her bare skin rug which she hugged tightly to her. PT smiled again, and this time, he said her name, and then pointed towards a stairway, leading up to an open hatch. No light shone down through the hatchway.

Megan turned from the stairway to PT. Pointed at herself, then at the open hatch. PT nodded. Go on; go up, he seemed to be saying to her. Megan turned and looked up at the hatchway. What was up there? Only one way to find out. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped towards the stairway. No one moved to stop her. She took another step, before slowly walking forward, and up the stairs.
Looking up through the hatchway, she saw a cloudless night sky, filled with thousands of blinking stars. PT's voice sounded behind her, urging her to keep going. She walked up the stairs and out into the open night air.

There were a few more zebra's up on deck. All doing various chores and they trotted this way and that. A few stopped to stare at her, the rest attempted to look like they were still working, but they were keeping an eye on her all the same. She ignored them.

Looking past them, she saw the still ocean waters. She looked behind her and saw the same sight. A slight sense of dread slowly trickled down her spine. Spotting the highest point on the deck, she hurried for it. There were no cries of alarm as she walked, no hooves grabbed her. She moved unimpeded, although a few zebras scurried out of her way with unintentional haste.
She reached the spot and looked around in all directions. Nothing but ocean. There was no escape from here. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. Footsteps, no, hoofsteps behind her caused her to turn and see PT, watching her. She was now his prisoner. From one prison to another, she thought bitterly. On the plus side, she wasn't in a cage anymore.

PT called out to her, and motioned for her to come down. She did so and stood before him. She said his name, then mimed being tied up, and followed that by an exaggerated shrug. PT nodded then spoke in griffin.

The word he said wasn't in the griffin tongue. It had an alien sound to it, and it only took Megan a few seconds to realise he'd said that word in his own language. He then said the word again and mimed a thinking pose. Intelligent? She folded her arms. He already knew that. He had known that since she'd spoken before the gorilla in his own warehouse. She gave an unimpressed snort, followed by another exaggerated shrug. He said Joan's name, followed by the word of bad. Megan scoffed loudly at that. Joan, bad?

She said Joan's name, followed by bad, and shrugged. She said PT's name, followed by bad and shrugged. She said Joan's name, followed by good, and shrugged, and finally, PT's name, accompanied by the word for good and shrugged. She then mimed a headache and gave an exaggerated shrug. Hopefully, that would get the point across. She did not know whom to trust. Or she had just confused the tar out of him.

He must have understood because he paused in deep thought. He looked around, then pointing at Megan, said her name, then said his own, before sweeping his hoof wide, encompassing the whole ship. He said Megan's name once more, followed by Joan's. Then he rose onto his hind legs, a little wobbly, and mimed holding bars. He then fell back down to all four feet.

The point was clear. She was free to roam the ship, and was not stuck in a cage. Still, could she trust him? Both PT and Joan had drugged and kidnapped her. However, PT wasn't keeping her in a cage.

She sighed in frustration. Turning to PT, she nodded. “Fine, I'm yours,” she said. What else could she do? Jump overboard? She looked over at the endless expanse of the ocean before turning back to PT. The zebra was nice to her, and refusing to go along with him could result in something much worse. She'd have to take a gamble on him being nice. Just as she'd had to do the same thing with Joan.

Damn it, she just wished she could have some idea what it was that everyone wanted with her. Why was it every creature they encounter wanted a piece of her? What was so God damned special about her that required her being sneaked past everyone? To be kidnapped from kidnappers?

She paused and turned back to PT. An idea popped into her head. She called out his name, grabbing his attention. She said his name, followed by her own, then holding up both hands, mimed two people talking. The zebra's that were watching Megan all looked on with growing curiosity as her fingers worked.

PT enthusiastically nodded. He then thought for a moment, looking up at the moon in the night sky, then shook his head. Before Megan could question why, he pointed at her, then mimed sleeping. He then pointed at her again, before speaking in his own language. He could not do the sign for 'Yak-yak,' with his hooves like Megan could do with her hands, but the point was clear. Sleep now, then we'll start language lessons tomorrow.

Almost on cue, Megan herself yawned and she believed she heard PT chuckle. He motioned for her to follow him, presumably towards her bed, but interestingly enough, it wasn't back down the way she'd come. It was towards a large door near the rear of the ship.

PT opened it and motioned for her to go on inside, which she did. The inside was cramped, made for a creature of PT's height. Megan was forced to bend down as she followed PT. The room itself was small. A large table sat near the rear of the room, behind which was a large window, granting a pleasant view of the ocean outside. There were three cupboards containing who knew what. There was a simple wooden poster bed with a draw curtain surrounding it.
PT called her over to a rug with a pillow and sheet that lay not too far from the bed. PT patted the spot and mimed going to sleep. Megan could not help but raise an eyebrow. Well, it wasn't a bed, but it wasn't a cage either. So far, so good. Megan sat down on the rug and pulled the sheet over her, before lying down her head on the pillow.

It was soft and extremely fluffy. Megan closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh. She never thought a pillow could feel so good. Looking over at PT, she saw that he was looking rather pleased. He nodded to her, before climbing into his own bed. Megan could not help but watch with rye amusement as he pulled back the sheets with his teeth, climbed up onto the bed, and then snagging the curtains with his teeth, drew them shut. She could make out his silhouette laying down and once more, using his muzzle to pull the covers atop himself.

She'd found the sight rather comical, seeing human like objects being used by a creature that wasn't human. She tilted her head slightly. Did he find her amusing to watch in action? The zebra's on deck had been intrigued by the way her fingers worked. The griffins had finger-like claws, but having observed a good number of them in action, they did not have the dexterity of humans.

She turned away to look out the window at the starry night sky and the ocean as her mind began to work around the new problem at hand. What would happen to her now? Whatever Joan had planned for her, she'd never know. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Was her future with PT for better or for worse? So far, it looked better. PT gave her a bed, not a cage. He gave her free roam of the ship. However, all that new found freedom would be tested once they hit shore.
And what would happen then?

What did PT want with her? Was it the same thing Joan had? Or something else? If she could learn a fraction of the language, maybe she could start asking questions. PT obviously had some secret trade deal going on with Joan, and he had risked a great deal not only stealing Megan from her, but covering his own tracks. Thinking back to the griffin city she was now leaving behind, she thought back to the shady deals she'd witnessed. The bribes, the backstabbing, the unknown deals. She had a feeling that she'd only scratched the surface of the secrets that lay beneath.

And would they come back to haunt her?

Author's Note

Hey guys. Sorry for the slowly update, but here it is. Chapter 2. There's a lot more story to come and I hope to get the rest up soon. By the way, if some one would like to be editor or a pre-reader for me, that would be greatly appreciated. Please, tell me what you think. Constructive criticism wanted.

Chapter 3

Megan stood at the bow of the ship, watching the seagulls as they soared across the sky. Seagulls. That meant that land was not far behind. The low lying clouds on the horizon in the direction the boat was sailing also confirmed this. She closed her eyes letting the strong sea breeze blow through her hair, causing her lengthy golden locks to trail out behind her. She breathed in deeply, before exhaling.

After a week at sea, she would be glad to be on dry land again. Plus she was curious to see what would happen in regards to her own personal liberties. On the ship, she had free range. She could climb to the crow's nest, or walk down to the very bowels of the ship, where no sunlight could penetrate. She did not like doing that as the ship had been designed with zebras in mind, and the further down she went, the more cramped it became. At one point, at the very bottom of the ship, she had to traverse its halls on all fours.

While exploring the ship, she'd discovered half the animals were gone. Upon a thorough examination, she realised that all the African themed animals were gone. She'd tried to ask PT about this, but her limited vocabulary translated very little. From what she could understand, he had been making numerous trips to and from different lands. He'd shown her a map, and marked out his route that almost seemed to circumnavigate all the lands visible.

There had been three large islands, or small continents, Megan could not tell. PT had his route planned out on the map with chalk. There was evidence of previous routes that had been erased. PT had been doing this for a long time.

Now their travels were taking them to a large island down south that only had half its landmass on the map. Ether the other half was unexplored or wasn't on PT's places-to-visit list. The griffin port they'd visited lay up on the far north of the second island. It appearance was reminiscent of New Britain, only facing in the opposite direction. The port was situated along the lower bottom half of the island/continent, near a peninsula.

The third island was much larger, the largest to be accurate, and took up a good third of the map. PT had made many stops along its coastline, which was situated to the west of the Griffin's island. Along with the numerous stops, there were a lot more markings that indicated towns and cities. There was a large kingdom of sorts on that island.

They would not be visiting that island at all. According to the map, they would be heading to that southern island, before continuing down south and looping the bottom towards the edge of the map. That destination was where he intended to take her.

Megan had tried to read the markings on the map, but they were in arcane hieroglyphics that were a combination of shapes and simple images. At first, she figured that they worked like Egyptian hieroglyphics, but from what she could ask of PT, and what the basic pictures showed, didn't match up at all. In the end, it proved far more impossible than trying to understand the lyrics of Macarthur Park. She gave up almost immediately.

Feeling the warm breeze against her skin caused her to look upon her new clothes once more. She had discarded the old bear-skin rug for more normal clothing. To be more accurate, clothes that had been tailored for her by a zebra mare. Her new attire consisted of a tawny long slit skirt, and a short halter neck that covered her upper torso, but left her stomach exposed. Both items of clothing were adorned with strange, line patterns. They seemed more for decoration than meaning.

She thought she'd have to ask for a coat of sorts, but the further they travelled, the warmer the air turned. After a week, she was starting to feel the first beads of sweat forming on her brow as the sun reached its highest point in the heavens, and she was glad for the brief attire.

Behind her, she could hear the cries and shouts of the crew as they went about their business. Straining her ears, she could sometimes understand what they were saying. Humorously what she did understand were curse words.

A week at sea, learning the zebra tongue, she had slowly built up a small repertoire of words, but not enough. She could communicate with PT, but only the basics. Baby talk would be a more accurate description. If a zebra did want to communicate with her, he or she had to speak very simply, and very slowly.

Not far away were a group of zebras who had some time off. They were spending that time playing some poker game. What they had were these triangles shaped cards that they held in their hooves, Megan wasn't sure how that worked. The backs of the triangles were the same dull grey colour, but the other sides were of three different colours. They also held some markings that weren't in the language she'd seen on PT's map. They reminded Megan of someone attempting to write in the Japanese language, and losing interest half-way through. They resembled slashes and swirls, rather than the familiar pictorial images and shapes.

From watching a good number of games, Megan deduced that the rules went like this. The triangles were shuffled and dealt out to all the players. Each player received six triangles. They could then choose to discard up to four triangles. Each zebra took their turn, discarding triangles and picking up new ones. Much like poker. Only you got to do this three times. You also took this opportunity to place your bet, which consisted of silver and gold coins. Megan had wrinkled her mouth in disgust the way she'd seen them handling the money. They picked it up with their mouths. The discarding and retrieving of triangles travelled around in a circle, three times, before the round returned to the dealer, and everyone had to lay their triangles down in a hexagon shape.

The winner was determined by both the number of single colours in their hexagon and the symbols on each. For example, one could win by having a hexagon of blue, or red, or green triangles, but that would be overshadowed by someone who had a matching set of symbols on all six triangles. The equivalent of a royal flush in this game was having all six triangles of the same colour with your symbols in some ascending order. Megan did not understand it, but PT once got it and wouldn't stop shouting about it for a good solid hour.

That was another thing. PT was a compulsive gambler. He took every opportunity he could to sit in at one of these games. Whenever he did sit down, he brought a lot of those gold and silver coins to the game. It didn't take long to figure out that PT didn't play for the money, like the other zebras did. He played to win. PT always won more than he lost, but the few zebras who did win off him won big. That is probably why so many zebras kept playing against him, in spite of him winning nearly every game.

Being such a high stakes gambler came as no surprise to Megan. Hell, he'd played very high stakes stealing her from Joan. Judging from what she'd learned of the zebra, he was both a merchant and a smuggler: And was successful at both. The fact that he wasn't there was enough to raise Megan's eyebrows in curiosity. That meant he was off doing something crucial. Most likely to do with the dangers they now faced in these waters.

Looking at one zebra who passed close by, she eyed the strange mark on its flank. A series of five horizontal squiggle lines with little triangles in-between them. It reminded Megan of a basic drawing to represent the ocean. Looking past that one, Megan had come to see that all the zebra's boar strange marks on their flanks. She had tried to ask PT about that, but he'd been unable to translate. The best she got out of it was something to do with working. PT's own flank was wired. His mark was a large 'S' shape made up of three lines that were outlined by little triangles.

She had also tried to ask him what he wanted with her, but it wasn't that he would refuse to answer; he did not know how to translate it. He brought out that weird rock thing with the glowing jewel at its centre. As always, it failed to glow when pointed at her. Megan was getting frustrated with that thing. Everyone seemed to think that pointing it at her, and watching it not light up was the answer in itself.

He kept repeating a strange word, over and over again. This word he would use with the rock thing. He would say this word, point at himself, and the rest of the zebra's, then nod. He would say the word, point at Megan and give a shake of his head. By the week's end, all she could figure out was that the rock was some kind of detection device and whatever it was that it detected, was present in griffins and zebra's, but wasn't in herself.

Whatever this Mcguffin was that she lacked, had been an excuse enough for PT to take a gamble on stealing her from Joan. Hell, it had even been enough for Joan to take her to Henry the Eighth and propose whatever it was that she proposed. What was it she had planned for her? In spite of not having to worry about that problem anymore, it still ate at her. She also couldn't help but ponder Joan's fate, as well. Did she get in serious trouble? Was she dead? Her last vestige of Joan had her sounding irritated and annoyed, not desperate and afraid.

Still, she could not help but think kindly of the griffin. Yes, she had stuck her in a cage and wouldn't let her out, but she had been nice to her, looked after her, and genuinely cared about her. Considering that she was an oddity in this world, it could've been much worse. Hell, if the situation had been reversed and Joan ended up on earth…

She turned as PT called out to her. He was getting better at pronouncing her name.

She nodded in understanding and hopped down, before trotting over to PT. She had managed to translate to the zebra that she needed three meals a day, not two. At first, the feeding time had been a rather unusual time, as they assumed that she ate what they ate: Grass. After a rather confusing half hour in which she attempted to make them understand she could not eat grass, PT had one of the zebras examine her mouth. With its hoof the zebra, a female, had pointed out her incisors, canines and molars.

They then understood that she was omnivorous. Although they were still confused as to why she could not eat grass. Things got even more embarrassing after that, when they attempted to give her fresh fish. Uncooked and still writhing fresh fish. From what little she understood, this is what they fed the gorilla. She also found that the gorilla ate grass, as well. Okay. She didn't know enough about gorilla's to know if that was natural or not. Well, she could not blame them for thinking that their diets were similar. The only problem was trying to make them understand she had to have it cooked.

That took even longer. The ship did have a kitchen and a fire pit, but it was used for boiling, not barbecuing. At first, they were confused. Apparently no one in this crazy world, except for dragons, barbecued meat. Turns out that all meat eating animals, intelligent or not, ate their meat raw. This led to the zebra cook asking her if she was something that she was only able to translate into 'Ape Dragon.'

Ape-Dragon. Fan-friggin-tastic.

Megan never bothered to dignify that with a response.

She approached PT, and he handed her the usual. Fish and vegetable stew. With cooked fish, thankfully. It was quite nice. As he handed her a spoon, Megan eyed the way he held it in his hooves. Logically analysing it, he should not be able to do that. The spoon just perfectly balanced itself in his hoof, no matter which way he tilted it. Almost like there were invisible fingers gripping it.

She had tried to ask him about it once, but her limited vocabulary did not allow a translation. After which, she just let it slide, and tried not to let the abnormal display bother her. But it was so damn hard.

She attacked the bowl of stew with gusto, and it wasn't too long before she was handing the empty bowl back to PT. She watched him leave, only to pause and look up at the zebra in the crow's nest. He called out to her, and she leaned down to shake her head. He nodded, before trotting back to the rear of the ship to converse with the ship's pilot. Megan watched him until he reached his intended destination, before looking up at the zebra in the crow's nest.

She was looking around in all directions, a telescope clutched in her hoof. The crew had been on the alert for something in these waters the past few days. They kept saying this one word, over and over again. Megan had tried to get a translation from them. At first, she got 'bad,' but she was able to deduce from a few more phrases. had been the one that finally nailed it. Pirates.

They were on the lookout for pirates. The whole crew seemed nervous, with the exception of PT. Well, if he was nervous he did a damn good job at now showing it. PT had taken another gamble by following this route. So far, nothing had been seen and a few more days without anything on the horizon, the crew was finally starting to relax. The zebra in the crow's nest was still on the lookout though.

She looked out in the direction he was. Only the flat, blue line of the ocean sparkled back at her. With a shrug, Megan walked over to the hatchway, and down into the ship, to try to explore some more. In spite of her freedom of movement, there was hardly anything to do on this ship. Hell, she would not even mind having a job of sorts. It would help pass the time.

While exploring the lower levels, Megan found a whole bunch of junk in clay pots. They were weird looking knick-knacks, and what had to be tools. Those were the most bizarre. They had handles on them that were way longer than necessary. However, upon closer examination, Megan discovered that all of the handles were christened with teeth marks.

So they used their mouths to grip these things. Megan wrinkled her mouth in disgust as she returned what looked like a hammer to the pot she'd dug it out from. She found it somewhat amusing that she was disgusted every time she saw evidence of the zebras using their mouths for manipulating objects. How many times had she seen them do that? Every single time they did, she reacted like it was only just witnessed. Thinking back on it, it did make sense if they lacked fingers, let alone hands.

Towards the rear, she found something new. Clothes. However, these weren't clothes that the Zebras wore. She'd seen them wearing hooded cloaks and fancy jewellery, headdresses, dresses that they wore around their midsection that covered their flanks, and believe it or not, horse shoes. These were vastly different but hauntingly familiar. Upon further examination, she realised why. They were the zebra equivalent of medieval clothing.

Tunics that covered only the front half, hats with feathers in them, hoods and bonnets with ear holes, capes, and all manners of surcoats, kirtles, and gowns. She raised an eyebrow. PT sure got around this crazy world.

Then she found an item that caught her attention. Among the medieval stuff, was a gittern. That made her smile. She hauled it out and looked it over. Looking at the strings, she could not help but wonder if this were from the griffin's land. She paused in thought. Or minotaurs?
She moved into a sitting position and cradled the instrument in her lap. She tested the strings and each one felt sound. Satisfied it wasn't going to break, she began tuning it until it twanged to her approval. Smiling, she plucked a few basic chords before trying a slow rendition of Greensleeves. After finishing that, she tried something more fast-passed: Classical Gas. Her fingers stumbled a few times over the unfamiliar strings of the instrument, but she managed quite well.

As she finished, it was then that she was aware of the sounds behind her. She turned, her face full of curiosity, and blinked in surprise. There had to be about eight Zebras standing behind her, all looking quite intrigued. A few even looked excited.

At the front of the crowd, Megan saw PT, a warm smile on his face. He nodded towards Megan, a gesture of respect, and suddenly began stomping his front hooves on the floor. Then the rest of the zebras followed suit. She tilted her head in confusion. Were they... applauding her?

One of the zebras, she recognised as the ship's doctor, came up to her and scrutinised her hands. She made many gestures towards them, particularly the fingers, as she spoke to PT. The said zebra was listening intently, but not with his usual level of concentration he displayed whenever it appeared it found something that would be beneficial to him.

Megan had seen that look many times before, over the week she'd spent at sea. This just seemed to amuse him. He stared at her, rubbing his chin in thought, before smiling and pointing at her, or rather the gittern.

he said, She sighed before repeating the two words she did not understand, and shrugged. By now, the crew had picked up that was her way of letting them know she didn't understand those said words.

PT repeated the first word, before rather awkwardly rising onto his hind legs. He then mimicked her method of playing the gittern, before repeating the word again. Okay, it was the zebra word for 'Play.' He then dropped back down onto all fours, before repeating the second word, before raising his front right leg, and mimed hugging something to him. He pointed at the gittern, said the word and hugged an invisible object to his chest.

Megan's eyebrows shot up. It meant 'Keep.' PT was letting her keep the instrument. Megan stared down at the said instrument. She could have it. She repeated the word with a questioning tone on the end, as she hugged it to her chest. PT nodded.

Megan said to him with a sincere smile. He returned the gesture.

Megan then walked past the crowd and made her way up to the deck. She ignored the sounds of the zebras following her as she made her way to the bow of the ship. Sitting down on the railing, she strummed a few cords, before launching into the guitar cover of Killing Me Softly With His Song. Megan loved playing the guitar. She could play for hours. She usually did so as a method of escaping reality whenever things went wrong for her. Well, the gittern was no guitar, but it was a close enough substitute.

As she finished up the song, she noticed that all the zebras were crowding around her, looking at her with mixed emotions of wonder, disbelief, excitement, awe. She smiled, rose to her feet and bowed to her audience, who immediately started stomping their front hooves on the deck. A good many shouted out what had to be the zebra equivalent of bravo. Many more shouted the zebra word for 'Play,' repeatedly. They wanted an encore. Megan smiled, sat down on the railing, and started to play some more.

She must have played for a good three solid hours, because she had to stop. Her fingers were starting to get numb. There were numerous moans throughout the crowd, but PT quickly put his hoof down over the matter. After her display of musical talent, PT did not bother with any more language lessons for the day. Instead, he just let her do her own thing. Which was pretty much sit on her ass and do nothing.

Feed up with nothing to do, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She sought out zebras in clusters and hovered at the edge, listening to their conversations. She had never been one to learn foreign languages in school, but trapped on a boat with nothing to do, it would have been something to break the time. She was able to pick up a few words, and with the blanks, attempted to figure out what they meant by either their actions, tone of voice, or by the reactions from the other zebras.

She was hardly inconspicuous. Standing on the outer edges of their little groups, caused all conversations to diverge towards her. She could understand when they were talking about her, because of her name. She also recognised the word for 'Ape' tossed in, as well. Another interesting snippet of conversation she picked up on was the constant combination of her name, with that of PT's, and someone else's.

From talking with PT before about his plans for her, he'd said that name a few times. At first, Megan had thought he was using another untranslatable word, like that word he used for that reason the jewelled rock would not light up in her presence. PT was taking her to meet someone. A few more barely understandable phrases also revealed that this someone happened to be at their final destination, not the port that they would be landing at next.
Speaking of their next destination, wherever it was seemed to have a good deal of the crew excited as the days ticked by. From what little words she could pick up, it was either some big party town that was the zebra equivalent of Los Vegas, or their home.

As the countdown to their next landing drew to a close, Megan kept up her language lessons. PT helped her by showing her picture book's of what laughably one of those baby's first book. It had been many years since Megan had been exposed to stories like this, and - like most adults without children - she had forgotten that books designed to teach a language to toddlers did not have plots. If you had to teach the words for ball and tree and run, telling a story was impossible. Megan knew that.

And she hated every minute of it.

She hated having PT read things aloud slowly and carefully. She hated him waiting for her to repeat it. She hated his waiting for her to re-read a page. Half the time she remembered the sounds for a word, she would not remember the writing for it. Symbols reappeared in different words, but she could not relate them to pronunciation.

The two hours she spent reading the book felt like an entire day by the time they were through. By the time the ship pulled in at the port city, Megan had almost doubled her basic vocabulary and had formed a pathological hatred for children's books.

***

The sun blazed down out of a sky the wrong shade of blue with a warmth she'd never known back on her farm. As usual, she stood at the bow, watching the port city unfolding before her. A good many of the buildings were low, box shaped one and two story mud brick buildings. The more important ones were built out of stone and towered above the rest. Palm trees dotted the landscape, sprouting above many of the smaller buildings, their green leaves standing out amidst the dull light brown of the city. Running along in the background, Megan could make out a Roman aqueduct, running parallel to the harbour, before making a 90 degree turn and proceeding out of view.

Megan perked up as PT called out her name. he said as he pointed to the city. <**** No ****, bad. Boat is ****, good.> So, the city was not safe. That or PT did not want her to wander off so she could escape. So her leash had a limit after all. As they drew closer to land, PT gave her some more rules, which weren't too difficult to translate. Don't try talking to anyone. Don't let anyone know you are intelligent, unless I say so. When doing so, only show basic intelligence. The whole idea PT wanted to everyone to see was that Megan was a smart animal. Just like Joan, PT did not want anyone else to know that she was a sentient creature.

As Megan contemplated this, her thought derailed as the sights of the harbour began to make themselves visible. In the waters of the harbour, numerous dhows sailed back and forth. Many such vessels were tied up at the many piers, along with sambuks, and even a smattering of baghlahs, but there was none the size of PT's. However, the one sight that stood out like she did among the zebras was sitting in an open area over by a large river that opened up into the ocean.

A blimp.

A blimp with what looked like a boat slung underneath. To add to its unconventional appearance, it also had webbed wings protruding from its sides. Many of the zebra crew were crowding near the bow, yet not too close to her, so that they could point at with their hooves and gibber excitedly in their own language. They were speaking so fast that Megan could not understand what was being said.

The crowd parted as PT made his way to the bow and stared at the airship. He had a hoof to his chin, rubbing it in slow circles. This was a habit he did whenever he was in deep thought. Megan turned back to the blimp and concentrated her vision, trying to make out the zebras around it. All of a sudden, one of them spread its wings, and took off into the air, soaring magisterially around the parked blimp.

Megan gave a little jump in surprise. A flying zebra? No, it was pure white with something shiny and grey covering its body. The sun glinted off its ashen grey covering, revealing it to be armour. Another two winged horses took to the sky, as they started circling the airship.

Megan closed her mouth as she realised it had been open. Those were pegasi. Then she rolled her eyes as she mentally slapped herself. The rug back in Henry the Eighth's attic. She'd seen pegasi and unicorns on it. She turned back to the blimp. As the ship drew near the harbour, she could make out more armour clad pegasi around the base of the ship. Only these were dim grey, their fur colour much lighter than the armour of the pegasi. Their armour was a shiny gold that sparkled in the sun, and they wore morion style helmets while the white coloured pegasi wore Gala helmets.

Megan could make out the pegasi on the ground. Their wings could easily be seen folded at their sides, but the grey ones, who outnumbered the pegasi, had no such visible markings. Other than a different colour, different armour and no visible wings, they also had some kind of protrusion just under the brim of their morion helmets.

From atop the blimp, a large flag flapped boldly in the strong ocean breeze. It had a purple background with gold diamonds that were arranged symmetrically in the foreground. In the centre was the proud bust of a white unicorns head with a light purple mane.

Her thoughts were interrupted as PT began speaking to the crew. They all gathered round as he gave out instructions. A few nodded, many looked pleased. A slight few looked saddened. From the limited vocabulary she'd picked up, it sounded like PT was discussing the rules for shore leave. The sad ones were probably the crew who had to stay behind on the ship.

The ship eventually pulled up at one of the larger piers and was hastily tied up as crew members tossed ropes to zebras down below, with their mouths. The zebras on the piers tied up the ropes, again with their mouths, as a gangplank was lowered to allow a troop of zebras aboard.
They wore strange necklaces with beads and feathers. Some even wore a slit dress around their flanks, much like Megan wore. They all carried Assegai spears, and some even sported Zulu shields across their backs. The most important one, whom was the only one who wore a dress along with an African sling bag, stepped up to PT, who also had a similar bag, as he bowed towards her. From her features, Megan saw that it was female. PT took her hoof in his and kissed it, prompting a giggle from the mare.

He reached back to a sling bag, and dug around inside with his mouth, before pulling out a rose. The mare's eyes widened with delight, and she held out her hoof, which PT dropped it into. She marvelled at the flower, before barking to one of the armed Zebra's, a male, who stepped forth and took the flower in his own teeth, and walked away with it, leaving the ship. Megan's mouth became a straight line. She made a mental note not to touch anything with handles on it. Either these guys did not have to worry about hygiene or they'd invented one hell of a toothpaste.
She batted her eyelashes at him and spoke to him, with tones that indicated she wanted something else. Megan suspected he was going to kiss her, but instead, he reached back into his sling bag and presented her an even smaller bag that jingled with a familiar metallic sound. He was bribing her?

The female zebra appeared joyous at the gift, and quickly taking it with her own mouth, made it disappear into her sling bag. She then dismissed the armed zebras with her, allowing them to turn around and leave. Megan was still blinking in surprise at the transaction from before. PT had bribed her. Was she another customs agent? Why would he be bribing her? Her mind flipped back to the dragon bones and scales. PT had posted a guard at the entrance to the cargo bay where they had been stored, and even she wasn't allowed near them.

As the two customs guards started down the gangplank, the female zebra began talking rather casually with PT. She could make out many references to friendship, and much emphasis on fun. Megan paused at that, as her mind unintentionally worked on a dirty image that sprung forth. Being horses of sorts, which would put all new meaning to the phrase, 'A Roll in the Hay.' She chuckled.

She stopped as she came to the realisation that the female zebra was now staring straight at her. Megan stared straight back. How she had not noticed Megan before was a mystery unto itself. Heck, even the guards that had accompanied her had not noticed. The zebra then leaned in close and whispered to PT, who spoke to her in reassuring tones. She made out the word for 'Good,' and even managed to understand a small sentence that translated into,

The zebra nodded, not taking her eyes off Megan. She asked a few more questions. Although there were many gaps in the translation, Megan understood a good gist of them. What is she? Where did you get her? Why is she wearing clothes? What does she eat?

PT answered all of them calmly, but when he explained how he acquired her, he told a different tale. She was able to understand only half of it, but the half she did understand said that PT had bought her from the griffins.

She kept asking more questions, but PT must have grown tired off them, for he skilfully led the questioning away from Megan, and instead started asking questions about the blimp. The female zebra started talking excitedly about it as PT listened intently. Much of the discussion was impossible to follow for the zebras used words she had no translation for. After a few tries, Megan gave up as it proved impossible to nail down just exactly what they were discussing. The conversation took an interesting twist when the female zebra said a phrase that included numerous references to the word for 'child,' and PT's eyes lit up.

He started talking to her in what could no doubt be a smooth tongue. Something about helping him to see children. She sadly shook her head, before talking in some complicated phrases. PT nodded, and didn't bother bringing it up again. Instead, the two shared a kiss and the female zebra walked back down the gangplank. She cast one last look over her shoulder at Megan before she left.

The crew set about organising hatches to be opened on the deck, while workers on the pier organised a treadwheel crane on the dockside. They manoeuvred the crane over the boat and lowered the hook down into the hull. A few minutes of shouting, and a few swears at the more careless zebras, and the hook retracted, carrying with it a cage containing the animals PT kept below. Watching the animals in the cages and thinking back to the bribes he'd just paid, Megan could not help but ponder what exactly was PT's full story. Was he a smuggler who used a legitimate business as a cover, or was he a legitimate business man who smuggled on the side?

A new zebra walked up the gangplank to converse with PT. This one was male and Jesus tapdancing Christ was he overweight. He wore no clothing, except for a sling bag, but covered his whole body in necklaces and jewellery, and nearly every inch of his face was dotted with numerous pricing of sorts. The gangplank bent perilously as he walked along it, causing a few of the pier workers to cast nervous glances towards him. PT greeted him quite boisterously and the fat zebra returned the audible greeting, sitting down on his haunches in order to talk with him.

PT asked him how he had been doing, before the zebra began a lengthy answer that proved too difficult to follow. All she could make out was eating well, and lots of travelling. Eating well. She laughed. The zebra turned his head and did a double take. Megan rolled her eyes. Seriously, what is it with zebras not noticing her till she was right upon them?

Unlike the female zebra, this fat one was more than willing to take a closer look. He walked over to her, circled her a few times, and even took a while observing her hands and feet. He then calmly asked PT the same questions that the female zebra had asked.

As they talked, Megan thought about all the zebras who had seen her. Joan had only wanted the bare minimum to know she had Megan in her possession, while PT wasn't the least bit abashed as to who saw her. Again, most likely due to whatever it was they wanted from her. If PT had no qualms about who saw her, did that mean she was better off with him?

The fat zebra suddenly started talking to PT using the word for money, while gesturing towards her. PT only said 'No,' to all his offers. It finally ceased when the fat zebra began pitching another offer and PT simply cut him off before he could get to the sweetener of the deal. The fat zebra then nodded, getting the picture. Megan was not for sale.

It was then that Megan felt the hairs on the back of her neck start to rise. The same little situation like this had arisen back with Joan. Only PT had been more instant in his demands. This zebra though seemed to take the answer he was given and move on. Or was he? Megan would have to keep a close eye on him.

Both he and PT walked off to his cabin, once again discussing money. Most likely payment for all the animals. Megan walked over to the side of the ship and watched the crane load the animals onto the backs of numerous wagons waiting in a patient line. Once they filled one wagon the pier workers would throw and secure a tarp over the cages, obscuring their occupants from the outside world. The tarps were bright blue and held a printed logo of sorts, strategically located so that when it covered the cages, it blazed at its audience from every side of the cage. The logo showed the jovial face of the fat zebra bursting out from the tarp itself while streamers and confetti rained down around him. In the background, she could make out a big top with strangely painted zebras prancing around.

Megan blinked in shock. It was a circus. The fat zebra owned a circus. So that is why he was getting all the exotic animals from PT. And that explained why PT no longer had the African themed animals. To creatures from an African themed land, they would be old hat. Now something like beavers, or wolves, or otters, or wild cats, wouldn't be something they would see every day.

The wagons were pulled by... zebras? A two zebra team hauled every wagon, and Megan had to chomp down on her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Those working on the dock again didn't see her. Ether they were concentrating on their job or it was something else. Again, did it have to do with that Mcguffin that she lacked?

Her attention was drawn to PT's cabin door as it swung open, allowing both PT and the circus owner to exit with big smiles across their muzzles. Megan chose to listen in on their conversation. It was difficult as both zebras spoke fast. She managed to make out congratulations of sorts, what had to be well wishing, and references to family.

Just as the fat zebra was about to leave, PT casually asked about the blimp over yonder. The fat zebra abruptly got excited and began speaking so fast that Megan could not follow a single word. Whatever was being said apparently had captivated PT's attention. However, as he neared the end, the zebra began slowing down and she made out a few more words, and even sentences. It seemed whoever the blimp owners were, wanted to see the fat zebra: Possibly his show. The final sentence caused PT's eyes to blaze, as it involved something about children.

Again with the children. PT had reacted that way before with the female zebra customs agent. What was it about these kids from the blimp that had him hyped up? Again, PT asked the fat zebra the same request he'd asked of the female customs agent. Just like the customs agent, the fat zebra shook his head. Instead of giving some convoluted reply, he told PT that whoever the parents were, they didn't see guests. He finished it off by saying something that roughly translated into 'Unless you've got something really good.'

PT sighed in defeat. Okay, so it would appear that not every gamble PT made paid off. As she watched PT despair, Megan noticed that the fat zebra was eyeing her. He quickly grabbed PT's attention, before indicating to Megan and asking about her? PT shook his head before he even finished his sentence. The rather emphatic 'No' that followed, along with a stern look on his face clearly told her Megan was not leaving his care.

Or was it something else? Megan took notice of the way PT was now eyeing the blimp. Although she wasn't familiar with many zebra facial expressions, she could recognise fear when she saw it. He was worried about something and the root of that fear lay with whoever owned the blimp. He would cast quickly glances between the said airship and her. She cocked her head at this. Before he was excited about it being there, but now, when the circus owner suggested showing them Megan, he all of the sudden panics.

Why? And why was he okay with zebras seeing her, but not the blimp owners?
PT began saying something about the animals when he stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned to look at Megan. The look in his eyes told her he was thinking something over, very thoroughly. Again he looked over at the blimp, before looking back to Megan.

Now he looked conflicted. He obviously wanted something to do with those children, but didn't want to use her to accomplish that goal. Then his eyes got that look. That look they got whenever he was going to take a huge gamble. She'd seen him do it before, when he was going to bluff in one of those poker games.

he called out to her. Megan frowned. So he was going to use her. She hurried back to PT's room where she kept it. PT and the circus owner followed suit. She was already seeing what PT had in mind for her as she picked up the instrument. She was to play for the kids. That in turn would get PT God only knew what. Whatever it was he wanted from the kids, it was apparently enough to make PT take a gamble on letting whoever owned the blimp, see her.

Again, why wouldn't he want them to see her? He was fine and dandy about everyone else seeing her. What was so unique about them? And if that was the case, why was he taking the risk of letting them see her now? What a contradiction. She could not think of any logical reason that could make any possible sense about all this.

PT said. Megan did so. She played the Gilligan's Island theme but didn't sing the lyrics. Although short, it did the trick. The circus owner was flabbergasted. He started babbling loudly and hastily about the music she played. PT listened, and then grinned as he said that Megan would get him a private audience with them. Whoever 'Them' were.

Banter was passed back and forth, too fast for Megan to follow, and an agreement was made. Two days from now, both PT and Megan would show up somewhere to play for the blimp owners. With the deal concluded, the circus owner left.

PT closed the door behind him and turned to Megan. he said.

“What?” Megan cried out. She was familiar with the Smart Animal routine. She'd been told to behave like that before she arrived. What she did not understand was why. She then shook her head, and said, She pointed out the window in the direction of the blimp.

What was that word? It took Megan a few moments to realise that it had been used extensively when talking about the blimp. Oh. So what PT wanted from her, was not to show that she was sentient in front of the blimp owners. To pretend that she was a trained animal capable of tricks. She shook her head. That still didn't answer her question.

she asked. PT licked his lips and he thought very carefully about what he was going to say.

That was the word for that Mcguffin that she lacked. <****,> again the blimp owners, Megan nodded. This Mcguffin was present in all intelligent creatures. Okay, so what did that…

Megan blinked in surprise as it finally caught up with her. Oh. This mystery thing, this Mcguffin, was present in not only all intelligent beings, but all creatures. She was intelligent, but she lacked it.

PT nodded at her realisation. he then suddenly raised a hoof to his throat and slashed it across. Megan jerked back. No wonder PT was nervous about them seeing her.

No. That was the first thought that ran through her mind. No way was she sticking her head into the lion's mouth. She'd taken significant risks letting her safety rest with both Joan and PT, but this? Asking her to do something that could get her killed if she let show her intelligent nature? The second, more predominate thought was why did PT suddenly want to risk this?

She said with all the finality she could muster. She shook her head for emphasis. She'd put up with doing what PT wanted, but this? PT looked upset. She thought about voicing her second concern, but PT spoke up before she could.

he pleaded. <**** no find out Me-gan has no ****.>

Megan demanded. She said the name of the blimp owners as carefully as she could. Having bore witness to PT's gambling habits and jumping on opportunities when they presented themselves, it was clear that PT did not want anything from the children: Just the parents. Still, even if the chances of her little secret being discovered were less than one percent, she wanted to know just what it was she was putting her neck on the line for.

It was funny thinking about it. She'd been content with letting Joan and later, PT lead her around without thinking of consequences, but once they were spelled out before her, she was only now putting her foot down.

<****.> The word that PT spoke didn't sound like a zebra word and it caught Megan off-guard.
“What?” Megan said. She shook her head, and said,

PT sighed irritably. He motioned for Megan to follow her. He led her down to the cargo bay. To the special section that was locked and guarded. He dismissed the guard and took Megan on inside. She knew what was stored in here. The dragon bones and scales.

He pointed at the cargo and said the names for each. He then turned to face her and started naming each and moving his hoof down an invisible line. He added two more new words before adding that one she had asked for a translation of. He then finished off his trip down the line by doing a 'Ta-dah' pose.

Megan worked on what he was trying to translate. PT needed not only the scales and bones for whatever he needed them for, but a few more... components? Ingredients? PT continued. He explained that the untranslatable component was very had to come by and very expensive. The next part of the explanation took a good three-quarters of an hour to understand, but perseverance prevailed. The blimp owners, on the other hand, had lots of it, but were very reluctant to let it out of their own internal market. They only let out a few at a time annually, driving up the price into orbit and beyond.

Megan snorted and rolled her eyes as the rest of the puzzle formed itself. PT did not have to explain the rest. It was so easy to see. He wanted to impress the blimp owners' children so that he could get an audience with them, and acquire his mystery item on the cheap. A few mangled conversations later confirmed this theory as fact. Turns out that PT was going to wait a few more days for another ship to arrive to buy this mystery item from them. However, it was by pure luck and chance that not only the blimp owners were in town, but PT had arrived when they were here. If he could not only impress the owners but get access to the market it originated from, he could get it much cheaper.

So to put it bluntly, she was putting her neck on the line so that PT could save a buck.

“You cheap-ass son of a bitch,” she said in English. PT cocked his head.

he said.

Megan just waved it away and said,

Now PT looked pained: And desperate. His voice was pleading. He reached up to grip both her hands with both his hooves. They felt strong, reminding her of TJ. <**** will not know that Me-gan has no ****. **** will not know that Me-gan is smart, that Me-gan is no animal.>

That got her thinking about that Mcguffin again. They would hate her for being an intelligent creature and not having it? Or would they hate her for not having it? And to whichever answer, why? She tried to ask PT this, but it proved impossible to translate. She was now more nervous than PT had been, but PT calmed her.

Megan looked into his pleading eyes. They looked genuine. Then again, she'd never had much experience with zebras before. However, PT's attempts to get her to play were going through her mind. He could have easily forced her to. Instead, he was asking her, begging her to play. He could threaten her, beat her, but he did not. Yes, she knew next to nothing about his past or what he had planned for her, but he was kind. Nice. Even caring for her safety. Why would she treat him as an asshole if he treated her with kindness?

That had been her excuse for being so servile with both him and Joan. Well, Joan had kept her in a cage, but at that time, she'd had no other option. Now she did, and PT was resorting to pleading with her, rather than threatening her. And if PT wasn't threatening her, she did not want to give him an excuse to do so.

What else could she do? Run off and strike out on her own? She had no idea what lay beyond the city walls, and what lay in any direction. What was the plant life like? What would the animal life be like? All she could do would be to run, and with no plan, no food and no idea, she'd be dead before the week was out.

As annoying as it seemed, she would have to rely on PT until she had no choice but to run.
Me-gan mentally translated that last word as 'die.'

All she had to do was play the gittern, and pretend to be a trained, smart animal. A trained monkey. No fancy tricks, no show of intelligence, and no harm done. Whoever the blimp owners were, they would accept her as a trained animal and not kill her. Straight in, straight out and PT can get whatever it was that he wanted from them. Although she felt a little degraded at having to be an organ grinders monkey, the alternative was even worse.

Was this the reason Joan had wanted her kept hidden? For fear that the blimp owners would discover her? If that was the case, why was PT not the least bit worried about the number of zebras seeing her? This was why she was playing it safe, not trying to escape and leg it on her own. What other arcane, nonsensical rules were lurking out there, waiting to ambush her around the next corner?

She sighed and shook her head. The risk was too high. She was about to say no, when PT jerked his head back as if struck by a sudden thought. He rolled his eyes and smacked his head, making a pained groaning sound as he did so. Megan frowned and held off on her final answer as PT reached into his sling bag.

He pulled out a tiny ruby, before holding it out to Megan. Curiosity crossed her face as she leaned down to inspect the tiny gem. It was nicely cut ruby about the size of her fingernail. PT held it out for her to take, telling her to do so. He then came right up to her right hip, tugging at the hem of her dress with his teeth, tearing a small hole in it. This all happened so fast Megan barely registered what had happened. He then indicated for her to slip it into the hole he'd screated while he rummaged through his sling bag again.

When he returned, he was holding that stone again. This time, when he pointed it at her, there was a slight glow from the stone, and PT gave a shout of triumph. Megan looked confused, and then her eyes widened as realisation dawned upon her. This ruby was giving her the Mcguffin that she lacked. No. She looked down at the hem of her dress. It wasn't giving it to her; it was faking one for her. It was causing the stone to light, making it look like she was. Megan gave a quick snort.

PT said. Well, that was a relief. He then placed a hoof upon Megan's hands.

Again, she looked down at the ruby, obscured within the hem of her dress. This would be good to have in defence against anyone else should she find herself on her own. Or if she needed suddenly to leave PT's care. She looked up at him and smiled.

she said. PT smiled a relieved smile. He then moved his hoof to her arm and started patting it gently.

he said. Megan smiled.

***

Two days passed painfully slow, especially with not much to do. The crew rotated their shore leave, coming back smiling, singing, laughing, or carrying clay bottles containing a foul smelling liquid that they drank. A small few looked like their dog had just been run over. The way they eyed the bulging moneybags of their crew mates told the story. Often, Megan would climb to the top of the mast and sit in what passed for a crow's nest, observing the port city. She could see where the city ended as all the buildings came to a sudden stop near a rammed earth wall. What lay beyond was a mystery.

There wasn't much one could observe of the city life, only those of the pier workers, as they bustled this way and that. Megan could not help but laugh at the irony of the workers acting as pack animals. Carrying things on their backs, or even pulling carts and wagons loaded to the brim with goods of all sorts.

Looking over at one of the other big ships, Megan saw the tiny, but recognisable figures of the customs department, accompanied by soldiers, methodically inspecting the ship's cargo as it was being brought out upon the deck. They would go over it by sniffing the bags and crates before nodding to the ship's crew, who would then load it upon their backs and walk it down the gangplank to the waiting pier workers. Sometimes, they would shake their heads and the soldiers working with the agents would then proceed to open said cargo.

She absent-mindedly looked down at the deck below her. The dragon scales and bones were still packed aboard the ship. They weren't off-loaded here, and most likely being intended for their final destination. Where she would meet this mystery zebra whom PT was taking her to see. She looked over at the blimp, with the pegasi flying combat air patrols not too high above.

Watching the blimp drew her back to the task at hand. It was early morning now, and mid afternoon was when they would go to play for the blimp owners children's. The grey horses in gold armour formed a cordon around the base of the blimp. What few zebras who were visible near gave them a wide berth. Megan had seen many of the soldiers who accompanied the customs ' agents would often cast nervous glances their way.

She looked down at the call of her name, and saw PT waving a hoof up at her. Megan nodded and started to climb down the mast. She then headed back into PT's cabin to fetch her gittern, and waited patiently for PT to give the word. When he was finally ready, the two of them walked down the gangplank and onto the pier where the circus owner was waiting for them, with what had to be an assistant.

As the two greeted each other, the circus owner began spouting some complicated rules for PT, or was it payment for the favour he was doing for him? Megan wasn't able to understand, but when it was over, PT nodded and reaching into his sling bag, pulled out a large bag of coins, which the circus owner eyed greedily. He snatched the bag out of PT's mouth and jingled it, listening to the sound it made, before gleefully tossing it to the assistant who just as quickly made it vanish into his own sling bag.

However, from the serious talking the fat zebra made after the exchange of money, Megan was beginning to suspect that what she'd seen was only part of the deal that the two had been working on. After PT had agreed to whatever was said, the circus owner joyously called them to follow, and they did. As they marched down the pier to the dock, zebras who were working there stopped what they were doing to gawk at Megan openly. It reminded her of her arrival at Joan's village, even when the overseers started swearing at the workers to continue doing their jobs. They did, but kept a curious eye on her all the same, talking amongst themselves. Of course, this time she could understand most of the chatter.

The zebras did not exactly use words to describe a female, but another word that wasn't male or female. Nor ape. Megan's mind ticked over the word. It? Thing? Beast? Monster? Being on the ship for a good two weeks, the crew had gotten used to her. All of a sudden, the stares were back and Megan was beginning to realise just how unsettling it all ways.

Megan sighed. Was this to be her new life? Constantly gawked at? No. She quickly shouldered it aside. She was a strong girl, and she wasn't going to let herself be dragged down by depression. Whatever was going to happen, she wasn't going to let it get to her. She knew if she did, that would be all she wrote.

The one thing that confused her was when she overheard a few zebras exclaiming that she had no smell. This confused the living tar out of her. No smell? That damn dragon she bumped into when she first arrived didn't think so. It took a good whiff of her and decided that she 'Smelled' good enough to eat.

She suddenly cut herself off in mid rant as it finally dawned on her. A few more tip-bits of conversations and she realised that they were saying something else. They were adding another word to the word for smell. It was the word PT used for that Mcguffin that she lacked. Megan rubbed her chin in thought. It wasn't that she did not smell, rather it was that she lacked a certain smell used to detect other creatures. Her mind flipped back to when she'd first arrived and how the zebras did not seem to notice her until she was upon them.

That made her look at the noses on the zebras. Could they detect certain smells that the griffins could not? She did not know what the differences were between bird and horse noses. Then again, with this crazy mixed-up world, maybe the rules were different. She remembered how the zebras were able to pick up objects with their hooves in-spite of the lack of fingers. Megan just shook her head in disgust as she filed it away in the too hard basket. The complexity of it all was just too maddeningly confusing to think about! she concluded.

They quickly left the dock behind and walked out into the streets of the city proper. The streets were wider here, compared back to the Griffin city, where the streets had been just wide enough for cart traffic. Here, they were wide enough and then some.

Within this part of the city lay the lower merchants, traders, dealers, hawkers, along with business of all kinds crammed into the walls. Wide streets laid out to no set plan, just placed according to whim and need. All were cobbled in rough-cut stones, with here and there, a Periodic gratings in the street meant there was a sewage system working.

Noise: That was everywhere. The shouting of peddlers, hawkers, and merchants competing with the bass rumble of heavy wheels and the clamouring of pack animals. Much like the griffins, the zebras had their own large pack animals: Elephants. Megan and her little troupe had to stop to allow one such beast to lumber down the street, its back laden with all sorts of rugs and sacks.

All traffic halted to allow it through. Megan could not help but laugh at that. The traffic was horse drawn carts, or in this case, zebra drawn carts. A single zebra pulled the most, but here and there would be a team of two pulling much larger wagons. Megan had to bite her lips as they walked past two duel zebra drawn wagons who hadn't bothered giving each other the right of way. One zebra from each team had collided and were knocked senseless, while the other two zebras were busy shouting curses at each other. Megan chuckled as they passed the crash. No matter how strange things in this world seem to get, they always seem to remind her of home.

Here and there hung banners and fluttered flags. They contained the same symbol of the white unicorn that Megan had seen flying from the top of the blimp. They hung from street lamps, windows, and even the tops of buildings. The whole scene reminded Megan of visiting dignitaries. A finger went to her bottom lip. Well, if these blimp owners were big-wigs, of course the zebras would go out of their way to make them feel welcome.

It was then that Megan noticed how everything seemed to stop when she walked by. Zebras stopped what they were doing to stare openly at Megan as she passed. It wasn't too difficult not to notice her, as she stood higher than everyone else. Those who caught sight of her slapped their neighbour's shoulder and pointed. More and more heads turned. There was laughter from some, silence from others. A good few blinked uncertain surprise at her, but lost their fear upon seeing the circus owner. Much like at the griffin port city, they dismissed their worries as if the circus owner were the answer.

This time, Megan understood why. A circus owner with a weird creature would not draw any suspicion: Just curiosity. As the crowds studied her, she studied them. There were scars on the body or nicks in the ears. Sizes varied enormously. Some were about PT's size; others were larger, almost coming up to her chin. There were tiny zebras too, foals. They came up to her knees and looked so adorable big heads and oversized eyes. One thing she did notice was that there weren't very many males. The vast majority of the zebras were females, who appeared to be doing most of the rolls, from seller to buyer, to minder or children.

As the group moved slowly through the city, they picked up a small entourage of foals who ran after them. Megan was the attraction and they held back but within a good distance or her, hissing too low for her to hear, and pointing at her. She smiled and waved back, causing the group to squeal in surprise and scatter. They just as quickly regrouped.

Observing them, she saw that they lacked those strange marks on their flanks. Well, not all of them. A few had the strange symbols of squiggly lines and triangles. They were the bravest, coming closer towards her than the non marked ones.

Suddenly, they were in an open area and Megan turned to see a very large, dull orange pole tent was sitting in the middle of what obviously was a park with dull green grass, bushes and trees. The circus owner gave a hearty shout as he approached the tent, waving a greeting to another zebra who looked huge. Although he was big, he only came up to Megan's chest. The rest of him made him look like he was built out of bricks.

He paid her no attention as he held aside the tent flap for the groups to walk on by. The foals, on the other hand, received a bellowing roar and they cleared the distance between the tent and the park, back to the safety of the buildings and streets with speeds that would leave a Kentucky Race Horse back home gasping for breath. Before the tent flap closed behind her, she could see their tiny faces poking out from behind the building walls in a way that made them look even more adorable.

As the flap closed, Megan turned to look around her. This place was a circus big top. Instead of the usual circular formation, it was rectangular, with seats lining both sides, and entrance ways or exits at both ends. At the other end of the tent, zebras were putting the finishing touches on a fancy looking booth. Atop it, lay a shield with the same symbol she'd seen atop the blimp. The unicorn's head surrounded by diamonds.

The circus owner pointed to the centre of the tent, where a large wooden platform had been erected. A few mangled sentences revealed that would be where she would play the gittern. Megan ignored whatever was said after that. It had to do with time, and what translated into other acts, so she began looking at the seats. They were strange at first, but on closer inspection, Megan realised that they were not raised seats, but rather raised platforms. There were no seats whatsoever. There were stairs to get to the platforms, but nothing else.

Her thoughts were interrupted as PT tugged at her dress, indicating that she should follow him. She followed him, and the circus owners' assistant who'd accompanied them from the docks, through a side flap she had not seen, and through a tunnel towards another large tent.

There were zebras everywhere. They rushed this way and that, jabbering excitedly, or shouting out questions. They were the weirdest bunch she'd seen so far. Some were covered head to toe in brightly coloured make-up, which glowed with a fluorescence under the flickering torch light. They ran about at speeds Benny Hill would have trouble keeping up with, and collided with each other in ways that looked painful, but were skilfully controlled so that they weren't: Clowns she realised. There was a zebra mare in the most elaborate dress she'd ever seen, with her mane in some organised mess. She was busy sorting out small bags that contained multicoloured powders.

Most of the performers and stage hands, or was that stage hooves gave her a peripheral glance. They were most likely used to seeing all manner of weird creatures, so this was yet another freak to them. Still, Megan got the impression that they stared a bit longer than they would usually have. PT took her over to the far corner and through another tent flap, into a small but empty room with a woven rug. He motioned for her to sit down on the rug in the centre of the room.

As time passed, the assistant would poke his head out of the tent flap, before leaning back in. PT and the assistant spoke with each other, but from what she could make out, it had to do with what he did around the circus. Listening to the conversation, she picked up snippets about PT's line of work. Apparently he was a well known trader of exotic items. Interestingly enough, there was nothing about smuggling.

Trying to pass the time, Megan tuned the gittern, even plucking a few of its strings. Every time she did this, the assistant would flick his ears towards her, and PT would give a wry smile. Eventually, after the assistant poked his head out one more time, he leaned back in and nodded to PT.

PT called out for Megan to follow. This was it: Show time.

She rose to her feet and tailed PT out through the tent flap. The first thing she realised was the emptiness of the room. Last time she was here, the room was packed with zebras and now there was barely a soul. A few stagehands stood around chatting, but no performers were to be seen.

The second thing she realised was the noise. As she followed PT down the tunnel towards the arena, she could hear the sounds of the crowd, intermingled with drums of sorts, along with the occasional explosion. They reached the tent flap and stopped. The assistant stuck his head through the flap, and Megan craned her head to get a small glimpse of what lay outside.

The zebra mare with the fancy clothes and hairdo was up on the centre platform. She was speaking loudly to the audience, while holding different powders in her hoof. All of a sudden, her tone shifted into one more dramatic and she flung down the powder upon the stage. There was a loud explosion, and a green fireball erupted from the stage in a small mushroom cloud. From out of the cloud sprung a giant green fiery dragon. It soundlessly rose and circled above the mare who continued her talking. No, story. She was a storyteller.

Megan wasn't concentrating on that, she was staring in disbelief at what was going on before her. Her jaw hung limp as she blinked surprise. How in all the bastards creation had the zebra mare pulled that off? From what she'd seen of the level of technology, there was no way they would have holograms or lasers. How was she doing this?

There were some zebras situated around the base of the platform who were banging their front hooves on drums in a frantic rhythm that added to the excitement of the story. The zebra pulled out some more powder, before tossing it in an arc through the air. From the powder, an equally giant blue eagle sprung forth. The two behemoths suddenly struck at each other, clawed a few times, separated, then circled about and struck again.

Instead of marvelling at their mid-air acrobatics, Megan nearly gave a cry of alarm at the second illusion. That zebra mare was pulling of a light show, and Megan had no idea how. A slight thought tickled at the back of her mind. Magic? She violently shook her head, throwing the idea out into the gutter and lighting it up. There was no such thing as magic and that was final. From the back of her mind, a small voice began to taunt her in a sing-song voice.

There's no such thing as griffins. No such things as dragons. No such thing as pegasi.
She unintentionally hissed at it to shut the hell up. Upon realising what she'd done, Megan froze, looking at both the assistant and PT, wondering if they thought her crazy. She had not needed to bother because they didn't hear her. That was when she became aware of another sound. Looking past the zebra mare on the platform, she saw hundreds of zebras now standing in the well, stands. Looking at the seating arrangements, it all made sense. Some were sitting on their haunches, while others stood on all fours. All of them were enraptured by the light show before them as they 'Oohed,' and 'Aahed.'

Suddenly the two combatants were locked in a death roll and they both plummeted towards the zebra mare on the stage. They hit the ground with a loud 'Whoomph,' as the entire platform was engulfed in a plume of blue, green flame. The audience gasped as one and silence fell throughout the tent. The flame vanished leaving the platform and the zebra mare, completely unharmed.

The audience went wild. They stomped their hooves so loudly and violently that Megan feared the stands would shatter. They did not. They did not even so much as shudder from all the punishment. The zebra mare bowed to both sides of the audience by lowering the front half of her body, and then towards the other end. Megan could not quite see who, but she knew it was where that booth had been located. With that, while the audience was still stomping their hooves, she collected her bags, and scampered down the stairs of the platform, before hurrying over to the tent flap where Megan was: Her drummers behind her.

They barrelled passed her without a second glance, before PT nodded to Megan and indicated her to follow him. The voice of the circus owner bellowed out across the tent from atop the platform in the centre as Megan walked behind PT. He spoke so fast she wasn't able to understand a single word he said, or rather yelled. This guy could put a race announcer to shame.

PT stopped just outside of the tent flap and waited as the circus owner did his thing. Turning to one side, then the other, before finally addressing who ever occupied the booth. Megan was beginning to suspect that the blimp owners were there. Then he finished up and galloped down the stairs. Once at the bottom, PT headed over to him and Megan followed. PT started climbing the stairs but asked Megan to wait at the bottom. Megan nodded, and PT climbed the stairs and into the light upon the platform.

He bowed to the audience, before launching into his prepared speech. Megan listened intently, catching a few sentences. PT was explaining about a wild, but tame animal he'd trained to play music. Megan noticed that he was very illusive on where he'd found her, not even mentioning the griffins at all. Looking into the audience, Megan could make out many of them trying to get a glimpse of her. The bottom of the platform was shrouded in darkness, but they could make out her silhouette and stared with awe and wonder.

Finally, PT called her up. Megan climbed the stairs and walked calmly into the spot light on the platform. The silence that filled the tent was deafening. All eyes were on her as she stepped to the centre of the platform, and unslung the gittern from her shoulder. PT then said two simple words. And play she did.

She launched right into an instrumental version of Johnny B. Good. Megan stood as still as she could while she played, the only movement being her fingers that danced back and forth across the strings. She did not get into the swing of things, like Michael J Fox had in Back to the Future, but she did turn her body from side to side, so that the whole audience could see her hands and fingers move along the cords. Speaking of which, there was no sound from the audience as she played. As she finished up the first song and started Keith Richards, Satisfaction, she chanced glancing up.

They were mirroring her stare when she'd first seen the zebra mare make a dragon and eagle out of powder. A select few were even swaying with the beat. She smiled, before finally daring a glance in the direction of the both. She nearly missed the next cords.

There, standing in the booth, were a group of unicorns.

They were about the same height and size of the zebras. Two stood out in particular. One, a male, with a coat that was a dark sapphire blue and a mane that was a moderate cobalt blue, wearing a simple gold crown upon his head. From in front of that crown, protruded his horn that was the same colour as his coat. Next to him stood a pure white unicorn with a blond mane. She wore an impressive jewelled crown atop her head. She wore an impressive gold and white robe, with a fancy looking collar with a large oval gem at its centre. The male unicorn wore a highly embroidered bright red shell jacket with a white sash across his chest.

To either side of their booth, stood ashen grey unicorns in golden breastplate armour and morion helmets. Like the other two important looking unicorns, their horns proudly stuck out in front of their head ware. She also happened to notice that they weren't watching the show, but rather the crowd. To the side of the red coated male unicorn, stood a zebra, a female. She wore a red shawl over a long white silk slit dress, and a red deshret upon her head. Megan gave a low whistle. All those crowns meant that these were some paramount equines.

It did not take Megan long to understand those two unicorns with the crowns were the blimp owners. Unicorns. The little voice in the back of her mind snickered. Megan rolled her eyes as she finished her second song. In spite of all the freaky and weird things she had been witnessing, she found it rather amusing that she was still finding everything else that popped up surprising. She wondered when, or if, the time would come where nothing would surprise her anymore.

As she prepared to start a third song, she hesitated slightly. There was still no sound from the audience. Looking around, they were still staring at her in undisguised shock. No stomping or cries of approval filled the tent. She turned to give PT a quick glance, but he was smiling broadly. Megan turned away and swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure of the silence being a good thing or bad thing.

On the opposite side of the female unicorn with the large crown, was an armoured unicorn, only his helmet was crested with a feathered plume. However, what sat between him and the female unicorn had to be the children she was supposed to play for. She could not see much of them, just their heads. Much like the zebra foals, their heads were big with their adorable, yet impossibly huge eyes that watched her with wonder. Their forelegs were draped over the side of the booth so that they could lean out over the edge of the booth to get as close a look as possible. One had a pure white coat, with a pink mane, while the other, much smaller, had a coat of dark sapphire blue, and a moderate cobalt blue mane. The two horns protruding from the manes of both children revealed their species. Both wore tiaras. The white one had a golden tiara, and the blue one had one of black pearl.

Observing the way they watched her with a mixture of awe and admiration, Megan could not help but crack a tiny smile. She started playing Horse With No Name, and took satisfaction from the way they tried to crane even further over the edge of the booth. The older white unicorn leaned down to say something to the both of them, and the turned to give her apologetic expressions, before quickly turning back to Megan. Megan could not help but chuckle softly this time. Kids will be kids.

She played song after song. Day Tripper, Pinball Wizard, Hank Marvin's Apache, Black Magic Woman, Lyala, Sultans of Swing, Wipeout before finally finishing off with Nuno Bettencourts Play With Me. The numerous and complex notes that needed to be played on the gittern did not come out sounding like they would on an electric guitar, but they none the less sounded impressive. By the way the audience was staring in amazement when she finished, they were more impressed by the sheer amount of notes in the air, rather than the music. A good many of them had even plastered their ears back against their skulls that told her what they thought of the song.
Note to self, no more heavy metal.

As she finished up, she put the gittern down and faced the audience. The crowd went wild. They stomped their hooves, they bellowed approval, and a few even were jumping up and down as though they had springs. Still the stands did not even shake. There must be some good engineering behind them. She was about to bow, but hesitated. Would that be revealing that she was intelligent? PT saw this, and motioned for her to bow, which she did. She bowed to both sides of the audience, before turning to bow to the unicorns.

The three adult unicorns were politely stomping their hooves, but the children were jumping up and down. Megan frowned. As they peaked in their jump, they hovered for a few seconds before coming back down to earth. Was it just her imagination or did she see a slight blur at their sides.
A tugging at her dress caused her to look down to see PT trying to get her attention. He motioned with his head towards the exit. Time to leave. She followed PT down the stairs and towards the tent flap. Heading towards the flap, she could make out numerous zebra faces poking out from behind. A good many of the circus cast had watched her play. Megan could not help but smirk.

She remembered the songs that the griffin had played, how it seemed like a simple song for beginners. These creatures probably weren't used to hearing such complex chords and melodies being played. Hell, they lacked fingers, and those that did didn't have enough. She felt the spring in her step as she walked through the tent flap. This was the first time she'd felt good about herself since landing in this world.

The circus cast had long since gone by the time they left the tent behind. PT hurried her back to her small little waiting room where she'd waited out her turn on the stage. The circus cast and crew were all back in their waiting area, all talking amongst themselves. Although they were all chatting at once, blurring their conversations, she did make out the word for Ape, mentioned numerous times. This time, Megan did not care that they were talking about her.

Once inside her little waiting area, she turned and asked in a low voice,
PT smiled and nodded. Megan now understood that word meant unicorn.

They waited for some time before the circus owner returned, a huge grin on his face. He conversed with PT, talking about the unicorns and how their children wanted to see more. PT was ecstatic and agreed but only on the condition about that mystery item he wanted to get. Megan found she wasn't as panicky about performing a private show. She knew what not to do, and wouldn't have to worry about getting found out, and killed. Her hand went to the hem of her dress near her right hip, where the ruby was still snugly secure.

Besides, part of her wanted to see those little unicorns again. She smiled herself. They were adorable. Seeing them up close would be nice. The circus owner left, telling PT something about organisation.

They waited for some time more, before the circus owner returned. He said that they had agreed and were waiting. PT called for Megan and she followed. The back area of the circus was now empty. No one was present. They walked down another tunnel towards another tent flap, being guarded by two unicorn soldiers. They passed through into what had to be the circus owners' private quarters. It was pretty large for a personal room, but there was junk everywhere. Standing in the middle of the room, flanked by more guards, were the three adult unicorns and their two kids.

That fancy looking zebra wearing the red deshret had apparently followed them back here, as well. Her dress covered her hind quarters preventing Megan from seeing her weird flank symbol. She was busy chatting with the female unicorn, while the male unicorn in the red shell jacket stood on the other side calmly watching. From the tone in her voice, the female zebra appeared to be attempting some pitch to the unicorn mare, who wouldn't seem to accept it, if the shaking of her head were any indication. The armoured unicorn with the feathered plume in his helmet stood next to the children.

Those said children grew excited as Megan entered the room, and she nearly baulked upon seeing what happened next. They had been sitting down on their flanks when she entered, but the instant they caught sight of her, both rose. That is when she saw what was on their sides, by the shoulders of their front legs.

Wings.

She now saw them because as they rose, their wings shot straight out and began to flutter with excitement. Both of them. They not only had horns but wings? Did that make them horned pegasi, or winged unicorns? She also saw they too had strange marks on their flanks. However, unlike the zebras who had lines and triangles, these were proper pictures. The white one with the pink mane had a picture of a stylised sun, blazing away. The dark sapphire blue one had a crescent moon on a dark purple background.

Her eyes shot to the other adult unicorns. No, they did not possess wings. It was just the kids. PT bowed first to the unicorns wearing crowns, then to the deshret wearing zebra, speaking complicated words of greetings to her. She smiled and nodded in return. The adult unicorn mare began addressing PT in her own language, which PT then revealed he was rather fluent in. Whatever was being said appeared to be in PT's favour for his grin grew wider with every passing syllable.

Megan turned from the adults to the children who were eyeing her with awe. By the way they shifted from side to side they clearly wanted to get a closer look at her. The unicorn with the plumed helmet kept shifting his glance between her and the children, even putting his front leg out in front of the blue one to keep her back from Megan. She was beginning to suspect that he was their bodyguard.

The talking between PT and the unicorns must have concluded because he then called for her attention. He pointed at the children and told her to play.

She had given some thought to what she was going to play. Looking at the pictures, or tattoos, on their flanks, she had briefly entertained the possibility of playing Here Comes the Sun, or Bad Moon Rising, but no. That would be cruel, plus she did not want to favour one over the other. Instead, she chose to play Sweet Child of Mine.

They watched with reverence as her fingers danced across the strings. Even the adults watched more closely this time as all ten of her fingers strummed out chords and notes more complex and detailed than anything they'd probably ever heard.

Bohemian Rhapsody, Don't Stop Believin', Red River Rock, William Tell Overture, and When I Come Around. She then moved on to something a little more soft. She played We Three Kings, Leaving on a Jet Plane, Auld Lang Syne, Do They Know Its Christmas, and Rocky Mountain High before finishing off with another complex song, doing a fairly decent rendition of Randy Rhoads guitar solo of Crazy Train. Okay, that last one wasn't soft, plus she did make the decision not to play any more heavy metal, but she wanted something that put a lot of notes in the air. Besides, it seemed only the Zebras didn't like Heavy Metal and at the moment, there were only two.

As she finished off, the children began cheering as they bounced up and down. They particularly liked the John Denver songs. That made her wish she'd only played more of them. PT, on the other hand, looked as though he'd struck gold. The male unicorn with the red shell jacket eyed Megan suspiciously, before he turned to PT, addressing him in his own language, as he occasionally pointed at her clothes and the gittern. PT casually shook his head, then reaching into his sling bag, pulled out the familiar stone.

Megan went stiff as a board. It was then that she finally remembered something else. She lacked a certain smell that the zebras couldn't detect. Would the unicorns notice it? Then she paused in deep thought. If they could, why would they have not noticed it when she walked in to meet them before? Maybe they could not. Was the smell something only zebras could detect? Possibly. That would explain why they did not ask PT about it the instant she walked in. Still, it didn't stop sweat from breaking out across her forehead as he pointed the stone at her. Thanks to the ruby, it emitted the faintest of glows, and PT continued talking in the unicorn language. All present nodded in understanding as if the stone answered everything. The male unicorn too nodded in satisfaction and the suspicious looks he'd been given Megan vanished with the wind.

What had just transpired? Then a thought struck Megan. The male unicorn had been pointing at her clothes and the gittern. Did he not fully believe the cover story that Megan was a smart animal and that she was possibly an intelligent creature? After showing the stone and it gave off a small glow, he seemed to believe whatever PT said without a single counter argument. She would really, really love to know what it was that she lacked to make the stone fail to glow upon being pointed at her. So that she could at least know what to guard against being found out. Until then, so long as she kept the ruby on her she'd be fine.

The unicorn mare spoke with him again in her own language and his grin grew to the point where it would only take a few more inches to either side to make him look like the Cheshire Cat. So, PT's big gamble had paid off. Megan gave a mental sigh of relief as he hand rested upon the front hem of her dress where the ruby was hidden. She wasn't too sure if she was willing to do this again, but looking at the gleeful children's faces, she might. Well, only for them.

The sapphire blue one spoke to the unicorn mare in an excited tone, and all adults in the room went stiff while the bodyguard moved his leg to block the children from Megan. This worried Megan and her own body tensed. The unicorn mare gave Megan a long, thought stare, before turning to PT and asking him something. PT nodded, and said something back, putting a hoof across his chest, almost as if he were saying, 'I swear.'

The unicorn mare gave Megan a reproachful glare, before looking back to the children who were watching her with patience eyes behind the outstretched leg of their bodyguard. Looking into their faces, she sighed and turned back to face Megan. The look on her face needed no words. If any of those kids ended up with a bruise, her death would be the least of her problems. She turned back to the bodyguard, nodded once and the leg was lowered. They suddenly rushed at Megan, but slowed to a trot after a short, harsh sound came from the mare. Megan was now starting to suspect she was their mother. She eyed the lack of wings on the unicorn. Or guardian.

They came up and stood before her with no hint of fear in their big, expressive eyes.

{Meeg-han?} the sapphire blue one said, attempting her name.

{Me-gan,} the white one said, as if it were correcting the other. {Me-gan,} it said again, proud of her ability to pronounce her name better. The sapphire blue one shot the white one an unimpressed glare, while the said winged unicorn only stuck her tongue out in reply.

The white one then reached out with a hoof towards Megan but hesitated. Megan smiled, before slowly raising her own hand, and holding it out to the outstretched hoof. Hesitantly, the hoof touched her hand, and then began feeling it. A second, sapphire blue hoof joined the white one, as they explored every inch of her hand. They grew more adventurous, testing the fingers and her thumb. Watching with awe as they bent the digits this way and that, she had to remind them that they could not bend every which way, and she gave little grunts of pain when they tried to bend them in directions that they could not.

They ran their hooves up her arm, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin. Then they were feeling her long blond hair, exclaiming at this and that. The small sapphire blue one started feeling her face, particularly around her mouth and nose, before feeling its own muzzle. Its quizzical little head turned to one side and asked something in a questioning tone. It was almost as if it were asking Megan why she did not have a muzzle. It was so cute that Megan almost reached down to beep her on the nose. Looking at the both of them, Megan finally realised that the two winged unicorns were girls. How she missed something important like that until now was just too embarrassing to think about.

The white one was observing her feet and toes, feeling them, and testing their flexibility as with her fingers. Her sister came over to see what it was that had her sibling so occupied. Then she found something else to be fascinated with. Her backside. Or rather, the lack of a tail on her backside. She poked around the area, feeling the small stump of a tail bone and frowned. She tried to lift up Megan's skirt, but Megan firmly held it down.

Meanwhile, the white one was trying to figure out Megan's knees. Prodding the kneecaps, and exploring her hamstrings. Megan smiled and slightly crouched, allowing her to observe her knees in action. The white one gave a squeal of surprise. Blinked a few times, and then gave another squeal as she clapped her hooves together and shouted in what could only be, 'do it again.'

She crouched down fully and rose about three times. On the fourth, she curled up into a ball and rolled forward. The two children gave another excited squeal and gave chase. She came to a stop, not far away, letting the two foals catch up with her, before suddenly back flipping and rolling in the opposite direction. They thought it was the greatest thing ever. They rushed after her, laughing and squealing with excitement at the flexibility of her body. Megan even caught the adults staring at her with amazement.

As she stopped, and prepared to roll back the other way, the sapphire blue one caught up with her and in the heat of the moment, jumped up on her back. Megan stopped in mid role, not wanting to roll backwards and hurt the little foal. Then her mind began to process the situation she was in, and a smile spread across her lips. She could not resist the irony and reaching around, held the little foal by her flank as she rose to her full height and began slowly to jog around in a circular motion, giving the little foal a piggyback ride. The foal was silent for a split second, before letting loose an almost hypersonic squeal of glee.

She held onto Megan's shoulder with one hoof while waving her other around in the air as she whooped out cries of exaltation. Her white sister galloped along at Megan's feet, looking up with awe and expectation, until after a few minutes, her expression started to sulk. The female unicorn said something that made the sapphire blue one sulk herself. She patted Megan on the head and motioned with her free hoof for her to lower to the ground. Megan did so, allowing her to get off, and the white one to climb on in her place. Now it was her turn to mirror her sisters cries as Megan trotted around the room with her.

They swapped positions at least five times before they finally called it quits. Well, they did not grow bored; they grew fascinated with her ears. Sapphire had accidentally brushed her ears climbing onto her back, and instead of wanting a ride, started playing with them. White, not to be outdone, started playing with her other ear. They folded them, bend them and even tried to see how far they could twist them.

Sapphire - she sighed mentally. They needed proper names. - reached behind her ear and unintentionally tickled her, causing Megan to giggle. The noise startled her and she moved away suddenly. Megan smiled at her, before slowly reaching out with her own hand. Sapphire did not even flinch as her fingers sneaked behind her ears to tickle them. Now it was her turn to giggle. Still smiling, Megan carefully worked her fingers down into the joints between her ear and head, where she knew TJ liked to be scratched.

Sapphire closed her eyes as she leaned into her fingers as they worked their magic. She sighed and smiled contentedly. White suddenly appeared at her other hand, nuzzling it. She needed no words as she worked her hand behind her ear and started scratching there, as well. For the first time, Megan noticed the silence. There were no sounds other than the two children sighing and grunting happily. It was like driving in the rain, only to go into a tunnel and realise that the rains no longer pelting your roof.

She left their ears and started patting their manes. They felt so soft, almost like silk as her fingers practically glided through them. She was very mindful of their horns. No telling what would happen if she tried to touch them. Watching them, she once again focused on their tiaras. She looked back to their mother, or was it guardian? Her crown and that of her male companion. Her husband? It was obvious that they were all monarchs. She looked back to the two foals. Maybe they were her children.

It was then that it hit her. She knew exactly what to name to two foals. White would be Princess Elizabeth, and Sapphire would be Princess Margaret.

She moved her hands from their manes to their coats, stroking and petting them. They liked that just as much, allowing her hands to slide across their fur, even sighing as she gave their hind quarters the occasional scratch. Then to her surprise, Margaret moved closer to her, nuzzling under her chin. Elizabeth soon followed, nuzzling into the base of her neck as she petted the both of them.

Megan could not help but smile and her strokes became more caring, lovingly petting them, but making sure to stay away from their wings, just as she'd avoided their horns. Again, no telling what they would do if she touched them.

Their mother spoke to them, her voice full of amusement. They answered back in contented voices, which caused their mother's now visible smile to broaden. She turned to her husband and spoke to him, after which he replied with the shake of his head. After musing over his response, she turned to PT and asked something. Whatever was said had an imitate effect on the two foals as they sharply turned their heads towards him with expectant eyes. PT, on the other hand, looked like he'd just sat on a tack. The last time she'd seen him with that expression was back in the dining hall of Henry the Eighth, when Joan had revealed for the first time that she lacked the Mcguffin. He quickly blinked it away to replace it with his usual mask of professionalism and politely answered along with a shake of his head.

The two foals' ears drooped at his answer. Their mother turned to give them a sorrowful look and shrugged in a way that said, 'I tired.' The zebra wearing the deshret spoke all of a sudden, drawing everyone's attention. Although she spoke to the unicorns, her glance kept sneaking over to PT. After she finished, PT stared at her as though a cobra had suddenly slithered out from under her deshret. He carefully licked his lips and spoke to her, still in the unicorn's tongue. She could hear the occasional tremble in his voice as he spoke.

The two foals returned to their depressed expressions. The zebra mare noticed this and turned on PT. She then spoke in the zebra tongue this time. What she said exactly, Megan could not understand. Although she spoke calmly and slowly, the zebra mare used complex words Megan had never heard before, allowing her to only understand one in ten words. Upon completing that speech, Megan grimaced at the expression now on PT's face. It would have had to lighten to seem grim. Whatever was said, it did not bode too well for PT's future if he said no for the third time.

He slowly turned to face Megan, a pained expression on his face. At the sight of that, Megan began to worry. What exactly was being said, she had no idea, but she was starting to understand it involved her. PT turned to the zebra mare again, before gradually turning to face the unicorn mare and nodding, said one word.

Both the princesses started jumping up and down, shouting with jubilation as their little wings blurred. Megan watched in fascination as they hovered in the air because of this, before realising what was going on. Something involving her had just transpired and whatever it was, PT wasn't happy about it. So, PT had gambled big and it had failed. Panic suddenly gripped her. What had failed? Her thoughts were interrupted as the two princesses gathered around her, hugging her affectionately and saying her name over and over.

She petted their manes in confusion, while watching PT talk begrudgingly with the two unicorn monarchs. The zebra mare looked pleased with whatever had just happened. PT looked like he wanted a cyanide pill. At first, she thought his attempt to get into the market of whatever it was that he wanted had failed. It soon became clear that wasn't the case. As Margaret began nuzzling under her chin while babbling excitedly, it struck like a thunderbolt. PT was being forced to hand her over to the unicorns: As a pet.

Sitting there, Megan felt no emotion whatsoever. She was surprisingly calm as she sat there, petting the two foals as she stared blankly ahead into space. She could not even muster so much as a sob. She just sat there, hoping against hope that whatever had transpired could somehow magically reverse itself. It wasn't until PT turned to give her one last regretful stare that she realised it wasn't going to happen. He then turned away to converse with the zebra mare in tones she could not hear. PT then moved away as the unicorn female came over with a broad grin, and began talking to the zebra mare.

Looking at the smile on the zebra mares face, along with the enthusiastic nods, she began to understand the irony of what had happened. PT had used her with the foals to get what he wanted. The zebra mare had used Megan with the foals to get what she wanted, and PT had not calculated that into the equation. She obviously had more rank in zebra society than PT did, and simply threatened him with something he could not afford to say no to. Her mind flipped back to when she'd first arrived in this room, and the zebra mare was attempting to pitch some idea or trade deal to the unicorn mare. Whatever it was that she wanted from the unicorns she was going to get it, judging by the way her grin grew as the female unicorn spoke.

Then she remembered something. The Mcguffin smell she lacked. The unicorns had not noticed it, and when the zebra mare had threatened PT, she'd spoken in her own language and in words she could not follow. Did she know? If so, why wasn't she telling the unicorns? Again, she thought back to the bribes, and secret deals she'd seen. First the griffins, and now the zebras. Maybe she did, maybe she did not. Whatever the answer was, she probably would never know. What she did know was that, once again, she was the victim of secret deals she did not understand, nor knew existed.

PT just stood back and watched with an unreadable expression. The female finished up with the mare and turned to talk to PT, who only nodded, adding a few more words of his own to the conversation but never once gaining that painful look while talking with the zebra mare. Listening, it soon became clear that PT wasn't going to miss out on being let into the mystery market, just being forced to give Megan up to the unicorns.

Whatever plans he had for her, she would never find out now. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Megan had not been an essential part of PT grand master plan, just an unexpected bonus that he had stumbled across. His plans for her rested at their final destination, along with his other plans, but she did not play into them. Still, he was bitter about having to surrender her. It was obvious PT did not have to worry about money, so what? Just like Joan, she'd have to miss out on the final act of that particular show.

Now, once again, she was starting up a brand new act. Only this time, she had a clear idea on where the show was going. She was a pet to children. A pet to children whose parents would kill her if they discovered that she not only was an intelligent being but that she also lacked something that she had no clue on. Sitting there, petting the two excited foals, one word did pop into her mind.

Shit.

Author's Note

Sorry for the late update guys. My kitchen was being renovated and thus my entire unit was made unliveable for the whole week. Then I had to clean up the dust. Ugh. Anyhow, I have finally finished Chapter 3. I've tried my best to proof-read it, but I'm only human. Again, if anyone out there would like to edit, pre-read my story, it would be greatly appreciated. As always, constructive criticism wanted.

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Chapter 4 Author's Note

Hey guys, sorry for the late update, but this chapter accidentally turned into filler. I promise, with the next chapter we're going to get into the meat of things. On another note, in regards to my grammar and spelling, I've got good and bad news. The Good; I've decided to buy a subscription to grammarly.com, The Bad; I don't have a credit card at the moment, because I'm changing banks, and I have to wait a few weeks for my new one to arrive. When It dose, I'm going to slam the whole bloody thing through and get it all perfect so you don't have annoying spelling mistakes and poor grammar to deal with. Again, I've tried my best to prof-read and edit. I hope I haven't missed too many mistakes.

Again, constructive criticism wanted.

Chapter 4

Throughout the whole ordeal, Megan had kept herself as emotionally neutral as possible. She had watched as PT had been paid for giving her over to the two princesses. In gems. This seemed to brighten his spirits somewhat. Two pegasi brought out a large chest containing the most beautiful, sparkling gems Megan had ever seen. When they'd flip the lid, revealing its shining contents even she momentarily forgot her situation as she strained to glimpse them.

They were larger versions of the ruby that PT had given her to use to hide her from the effects of the glowing rock thingy. Megan cast her gaze from the chest towards PT's saddle bags. He could see a bright glow from within. Staring at it, she realised it was that detection device she'd been thinking about earlier. It was reacting rather enthusiastically to the gems in the chest. Even the zebra mare who'd forced PT to hand her over to the unicorns looked impressed. PT was trying not to meet her gaze.

Listening to the conversation, Megan could make out the unicorns using a very familiar zebra word. A few more repeats and Megan remembered where she'd heard it before. That word they used was the word PT used for his mystery item, the one he'd hoped to gain access to by impressing the princesses. Megan eyed the gems. So that is what he wanted. Her eyes floated back and forth between the gems and PT's saddle bag with the jewelled rock glowing within. So, those gems had the same properties that everyone else in this world, but her. Only more of it.

Megan was so caught up in seeing the gems that she failed to notice that the princesses bodyguard was approaching her from behind. She became aware of his plumed morion helmet in her peripheral vision and turned.

And her breath caught in her throat.

The unicorn's horn was glowing. There was a Maya blue coloured aura around his horn…

...Which also surrounded a leather collar embroidered with blue sapphires.

At first, Megan could not help but gawk disbelievingly at what she was seeing. Was that some form of telekinesis? Were these unicorns psychic? And more importantly, could they read her mind? Of course, all that was shoved violently from her thoughts as the leather collar she'd been so enraptured by was fastened around her neck.

Megan stiffened once she realised just what had happened. Her hands shot to her neck, grasping the buckle of the collar, But she did not tug. The instant her fingers touched the brass buckle, her brain caught up with reality. She had been sold to the unicorn's children as a pet. Pets need collars. If she tried to remove it, she most likely would get into trouble. She turned to look at the unicorn monarchs. Trouble was the last thing she wanted to experience with them, considering PT's dire warning about what they'd do to her should they discover her secret. Her hands reluctantly retreated to her sides, slowly.

Patience Megan, just wait until you are ready.

She'd observe, learn, and study. Then when she was ready, she'd strive off on her own. Only when she was ready. If she were going to run away, she'd need to know some vital clues about the new land she'd be calling home. What was the plant life like? Which were poisonous, and which weren't. Was there any danger from the local wildlife? What were the weather seasons like? Would it snow? How hot would it get in the summer? However, the most important question that needed to be answered was, what exactly was it that Megan lacked that would get her killed if it were discovered? She was not going to be making any moves for freedom until that question was answered.

Her planning sessions was interrupted as a small hoof touched her arm. She looked down to see Margaret holding something between her teeth: a leash. She appeared so cute looking up at her with those big, expansive eyes, that Megan almost forgot that she was going to attach a leash to her. Margaret's own horn began to glow, and the clip end was levitated into the air.

Megan momentarily forgot that she was about to be leashed like a dog as the glowing blue aura that now surrounded the clip, worked the device and attached it to Megan's collar. She blinked a few times. Could the princesses do that levitation trick, as well? She turned to look at all the other unicorns in the room. Were they capable of doing the same thing also?

All of a sudden, PT appeared before her. He had a sorrowful look on his face as he stepped forth to put a gentle hoof on her arm. Keep safe, he seemed to be telling her. Megan smiled, and slowly, with deliberate movements, bent down and embraced PT in a hug. She could not help it. Yes, he'd stolen her from Joan, and yes he'd asked her to risk her neck so that he could get his gems for a cheaper price. In spite of all this, she could not help but feel some pleasant emotion towards him. He had the look of surprise on his face, before reaching up with his own front legs to reciprocate the gesture. Then he let go before turning away from her, head hung low.

There was a pulling on her leash, and she looked down to see Margaret, the handle end of the leash now suspended within that glowing blue aura of hers. She was tugging it towards the exit. It was time to go. Megan carefully rose to her feet and allowed herself to be led from the room. The tent tunnels they proceeded through were empty of zebra's but full of unicorns in golden armour. The two princesses walking ahead of her, were almost swallowed up by the sheer numbers of unicorn soldiers as they all attempted to traverse the narrow tent corridors, before finally exiting out into the daylight.

The sun was starting to sink towards the horizon as Megan pushed aside the tent flap to emerge into the fresh air. She tilted her head slightly. It had been mid-afternoon when they first went in. Had it been that long? The unicorn soldiers formed a cordon around the tent entrance, while not too high above, pegasi glided about or hovered in the air. All their eyes were on the crowd of zebras gathering on the outskirts of the group. They momentarily turned their gaze towards Megan as one, before quickly turning back to their duties. It was then that she noticed that they were carrying shorten versions of pikes.

The soldiers all stiffened to alertness when the two unicorn monarchs trotted out. The unicorn queen looked pleased as beside her, the deshret wearing zebra trotted along talking excitedly to her. Behind her came the queen's husband and the princess's bodyguard levitating the gittern. Megan raised one eyebrow. With all that had been happening, she'd totally forgotten about that thing.

Elizabeth suddenly appeared at her side, jumping about and babbling excitedly, while Margaret trotted ahead of her, the leash suspended in that glowing blue aura of hers. She looked off to both sides at the crowd of zebras watching. They lacked any telekinesis themselves. They used their hooves and mouth to manipulate objects, while the unicorns used their psychic horns. The griffins had used their hand like forepaws. The griffins. Megan found her mind wandering back to the dinning hall of Henry the Eight. Particularly, the landscape paintings depicting triumphant battles. No doubt wars were fought on this world, and if these unicorns possessed such powers, it would not only make a handy weapon on the battlefield, but it would make sense that they would be the top dogs on this world.

She eyed the horns of the princesses. She had better not touch them. She still had no idea on the biology of these unicorns, and pegasi. Not to mention culture. Both the horns and wings might be highly sensitive, or touching them could even be considered sexual assault. Considering that she was nothing more than a smart animal to these equines, getting in serious trouble was the last thing she wanted.
She shuffled her thoughts back to her original subject, the way PT, and the other zebras had managed to grasp objects with their hooves, in spite of the lack of fingers. Looking back at Margaret's glowing horn, she wondered if all intelligent creatures on this world possessed at least some form of telekinesis. That would explain a few things, but it also opened up the enormous plot hole of why would that be a reason to kill her for not having it?

Her attention was diverted back to Margaret, as she was now engaged in some argument with her sister. The reason became evident as Elizabeth's horn started to glow with a golden hue, and began a tug-of-war with the sapphire blue aura that held Megan's leash. Elizabeth quickly won this war, which resulted in Margaret turning and shouting out something to their mother.

Their mother snapped something back, which caused Margaret to sulk and lower her head as she trailed back behind her sister. Elizabeth's face bore a smug expression as she trotted ahead, Megan's leash hovering in the air. Megan took a glance down at the sad expression on Margaret's face, as the princess fell into step beside her. She brushed up against Megan's leg, looking up and nuzzling her hand. She smiled down at the princess, before suddenly scooping her up into her arms, causing the little filly to give a startled squeak and to manoeuvre her around her back so that she could give the sapphire blue princess another piggy-back ride.

It was then, that Megan was suddenly aware that all eyes were on her. The unicorn soldiers were stiff, frozen in half ready battle poses. They all relaxed when both Margaret's happy cries filled the air and the unicorn queen said something in a dismissive tone. Megan mopped her brow, feeling the sweat there. That was close.

Careless Megan, real careless.

She had gotten too complacent. She was now used to handling the princesses that she had not thought what others might think of her actions. They weren't used to her. To them, she was just an animal. Like a dog, she could be friendly but turn violent at any given time. She saw a few of them eying her leash that Elizabeth was still levitating. Although she was the princess's pet, they did not trust her one bit.
She knew that the zebras understood she was some kind of ape, and they could be dangerous. Maybe the guards did too. She was an unknown and unfamiliar creature to this world. She'd have to watch herself around others who weren't yet familiar with her. Particularly any creature with a weapon.

Staring ahead, she saw that Elizabeth was looking over her shoulder at her with a suspicious expression, or rather at her sister now gleefully bouncing up and down on Megan's back. Her eyes narrowed to glaring daggers when Megan heard Margaret blow a raspberry in her general direction. Not to be antagonised, Elizabeth turned away with an almost human harumph.

The procession made its way down a wide, open street towards a large structure that appeared to be nestled within the city centre. As they drew closer, Megan realised it as a palace or sorts. It was situated within the centre of a large and flat oval area, with a great circular pool before it. A long bridge spanned the middle of the pool that was a walkway up to the front entrance. The building was a dull orange that was shaped like a 'T' with the front section being the entrance, before leading back to a large tower like building that was crowned by a high dome. Either side of this tower, two wings spread out, forming the 'T' shape. The whole palace had three floors, with the exception of the tower that had five.

Oh, this must be where the deshret wearing zebra mare must live. They approached the front door, which was being guarded by a squad of zebra's carrying Zulu shields on their backs and grasped Maasai spears with her hooves. Megan eyed the difference between the weapons and armour of the unicorns, pegasi and zebras. The pegasi and unicorns all had plate armour and helmets while the zebras had only cloth wrapped around various sections of their bodies. Although all carried spears, the unicorns shorten pikes looked way more advanced and even more deadly.

The deshret wearing zebra mare stepped forth and the guards all bowed low. Megan watched this little performance and decided that she was indeed the ruler of the zebras. Or just this city. She cocked her head slightly and smiled. Cleopatra would be a fitting name. The doors were opened and the group was ushered inside. Interestingly enough, the large ensemble of unicorn and pegasi guards followed as well, gaining a few disapproving glares from the zebra guards. If Cleopatra was offended by this, she showed no sign.

The hall they travelled down was tall, with archways overhead. Numerous paintings lined the walls, all of zebra mares wearing deshrets. They proceeded all the way down to a massive 'T' intersection, which lay at the base of a grand staircase. The group headed up the stairs which split off in both directions to lead up to the second floor. Once there, they all marched down another corridor towards a large open window with numerous doors on either side, before splitting up and going into different rooms.

Elizabeth led Megan over to one door, where their bodyguard stood patiently holding the door open, and still levitating the gittern. They headed inside, before the bodyguard followed them as well, closing the door behind him.

Margaret started squirming on Megan's back, indicating that she wanted to be let down. After which, she wrapped a hoof around Megan's hand and started pulling her towards a large dark blue and black chest. At least she tried to. Both she and Megan had forgotten about Elizabeth holding the leash and Megan found herself stuck between the two of them. She turned to see Elizabeth steadfastly holding onto her end, a determined look upon her face.

Margaret scowled back and pointed a hoof at the chest, while talking in a calm yet highly audible tone. Elizabeth shook her head and pointed with her own hoof towards an equally sized pink and white chest, while talking in a calm tone herself. Margaret scrunched up her muzzle and appeared ready for verbal combat, when their bodyguard intervened. He quickly stepped between the two would be combatants and began explaining something to the two princesses with a suggestive method to his speech, but also contained an undertone that told Megan he'd been down this road more times than he had cared to.

Both princesses looked at him intently, before abruptly rushing off to their respective chests; Elizabeth dropping the leash, thank Christ. Using their telekinetic horns, they opened their chest and levitated out toys. Megan blinked, and then looked back and forth between the two chests. They were toy boxes, colour coded to the princesses own scheme. A small snicker worked its way past her lips.

Margaret reached her first, showing off a majestic looking unicorn doll with a white coat, horn, spread wings and long, flowing fire-red mane. It was a winged unicorn, just like the princesses. The picture on her flanks was that of an inkwell and quill pen. Margaret was also levitating a small toy brush along with three different fancy looking dresses. Megan could not help but smile warmly at the little filly as she began talking about the doll. It reminded her of her own childhood and the dolls she had. There was one thing about the doll that stuck out. It had joints so that its body, legs, neck and head could all move. On its back was a saddle that had been constructed into the body. On the saddle, itself was a slot for a key, which Margaret was also levitating.

Of course, all that was literally shoved aside as Elizabeth appeared next to Margaret brandishing a ball of sorts. It was painted white with pink swirls, and a painted version of the rising sun picture upon her flank on each side of the ball. Elizabeth started explaining something about the rising sun when Margaret snapped irritably at her, waving her doll in front of Elizabeth's face.

Elizabeth responded with an equal irritation by pointing at her own back, and then at Megan's. Margaret answered by raising her voice and pointing at Megan's leash. The bodyguard replied to this fracas with a sigh and started trotting towards the two sisters. Watching the drama unfold before her, took Megan back to her own siblings, Danny and Molly. Those two would argue and fight over just about anything and everything. Being the older sibling, she was usually tasked with looking after them when they were all younger, which she often told her mother, should be registered as a full time job.

So when she was presented with a scenario in which it looked like it was going to be resolved with fisticuffs, she knew exactly what to do. She held up her both hands and snapped her fingers as loudly as she could. All noise ceased. Both sisters stared at her, even the bodyguard. Megan gave a triumphant smile as she held up her right hand before them, before snapping her fingers. They both jumped, not in fear but surprise. She then brought up her left hand and launched into an impromptu rendition of Curly's famous finger-snapping routine. Her execution of it was less than stellar and would've made any Three Stooges fan wince, but it still bedazzled the two sisters. Even the bodyguard watched with wide-eyed amazement.

She finished up and took a dramatic step back, before parading around the room in an exaggerated jaunty walk. Her audience watched with fascination and confusion as she walked around, and then slipped on an invisible banana peel. She fell over backwards in a controlled fall, and rolling with it, leapt back to her feet with a mock dazed expression. She shook her head vigorously before scratching it in confusion. She looked around, shrugged and started forward.

She took two steps before tripping over another unseen object, only this time, she fell forwards. There was a slight cry of alarm from Margaret, but it cut its self off when Megan landed on her hands, flipped over and pushed herself into the air, somersaulting across the room to land in a crouched position on the other side. Continuing with the fluid motion, she rose back to her feet and bowed. When she'd been sorting out her younger siblings, she had distracted them from the argument at hand. Here, it was a little different, but the general principle still remained.

Both sisters went wild. They stomped their little hooves with all the vigour they could muster as they cheered themselves hoarse. She cast a glance over at the bodyguard who was trying his damnedest to hide an impressed smile. Megan showed them her hands, quieting the princesses, before she linked the fingers for a moment, then put them behind her head and brought them back unlinked. It was the kind of lame-ass trick that would result in a hooked cane appearing from nowhere to snatch you away, but the princesses thought it was solid gold.

They laughed and laughed; Margaret even fell over. The most important thing was that all in the room had forgotten about the argument that had been about to break out earlier as the toys, now laying abandoned at the children's feet, gave testament to that.

Elizabeth sat down on her haunches and clapped her front hooves together, crying out something. Margaret followed suit and Megan quickly realised that they wanted an encore. She bowed to them once more, her mind ticking over whatever equally silly magic tricks she could dredge up from the bowels of her mind.

Thankfully, she did not have to do many. The call for dinner came soon after, and Megan was given a break from entertaining the princesses. They had insisted on her joining them, but their mother said no. They tried turning on the water works, but even that did not help. She didn't even bat an eyelid as she sternly told them no once more. Their father had calmed them down by explaining something to them that did make them stop crying, but didn't make them anymore happier.

Whatever the reason for her not being allowed to join the princesses at the table had something to do with the unicorn word for zebra. She knew hardly anything about zebra culture, but it might be considered a great offence to bring an animal to the dinner table. So both princesses gave Megan reassuring pats on her arm, before leaving with their bodyguard and parents for dinner.

Megan sat in the middle of the room, staring at the door. She blinked before looking around the room. There were two grand looking beds and a roll-up felt mat, which looked like something a Roman legionnaire would've slept on. She walked over to the large, open window and looked out. The sun was just disappearing below the horizon, granting Megan a rather limited view. The view was that of the rear of the palace and the buildings beyond. She could make out zebra guards patrolling the grounds, their spears clearly visible. To the right of the palace, the large river she'd seen stretched on, with numerous small canoes containing items of all sorts, sailing in line formation. Must be a water highway, much like the Mississippi.

The scenery outside did not change or did anything of interest show up. Megan sighed with boredom, but continued to watch the city. Her hand brushed down across the hem of her dress, where the ruby PT had given her lay secure and safe. So, this was her future? A pet. A pet who had a deep dark secret that couldn't be revealed. She briefly thought about climbing out the window and running back to PT. Looking at the guards, she realised that there was no way she'd be able to sneak past them. Not to mention she had no idea where PT's ship was. She could follow the river back to the ocean, but she wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Plus if she did disappear, the unicorns would no doubt go straight to PT first, much like Joan had done.

She could hide, much like that last time and she could lose the ruby so that they could not locate her. However, that would not work. PT had sneaked her on board his ship AFTER the griffins came to him first. He'd have nowhere to hide her and God only knew what would happen to her if they discovered her with no ruby.

“Megan, my dear, what have you gotten yourself into?” Not surprisingly, no one answered. She folded her arms across the window sill and lay her head down in them.

She must have fallen asleep by the window, because the next thing she knew, the door opened, and the unicorn family came into the room. Looking out the window, the sun was now gone, replaced by a half moon in a starry night sky. Turning back to the princesses, they were yawning broadly. Elizabeth was walking by herself, but Margaret rode atop the back of her father, her big eyes fluttering to stay awake.
That surprised Megan. Considering the picture she had on her flank, she would've thought Margaret to be a night-owl. Their mother and bodyguard came in close behind. Elizabeth climbed up into one of the grand looking beds and pulled the sheets over her. Margaret's father carried her over to the other bed, and using his own telekinesis, lifted her off his back and tucked her into bed. Their mother came up behind her husband, and leaning down, gave Margaret's cheek a quick peck, before whispering softly to her.

She then trotted over to Elizabeth's bed and planted the same quick kiss on her cheek. Elizabeth asked something in a questioning tone, and her mother smiled and nodded in reply. She then walked to the centre of the room, cleared her voice, and started singing. Megan raised both her eyebrows at the voice that came forth. It was quite beautiful. She sang a soft and low song that had a soothing and gentle tone to it. Both princesses yawned, closed their eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

When it was clear that they were no longer awake, their mother ceased her song and smiled at her two children. Her husband joined her at her side and nuzzled her cheek happily, whispering something into her ear. She gave a quiet giggle in response and together, they left the room. The bodyguard closed the door behind them and started unfolding the felt mat she'd seen before, settling down upon it in a way that looked like he could spring into action at any given moment.

Megan now realised that the whole room was in darkness, save for the light of the moon coming in through the open window. She blinked in surprise, as she looked at the sleeping bodyguard, that they had not even provided her with anything to sleep on. She pouted at this. She at least gave TJ a mat to sleep on. She then looked around the room. Well, this wasn't their home. They were just guests. Maybe when they arrived at their proper home, they'd have something for her.

She lay down on the floor, which thank Christ was decently carpeted. She wished she could've had a pillow, but somehow, in spite of her hunger, she managed to drift off to sleep without even realising it.

***

The next five days passed painfully slow. The princesses spent all their time in the zebra palace and running around the palace grounds. Whenever they left their room, Megan had to wear her leash as they walked her through the palace halls and grounds. It was no longer demeaning now, but the only problem with it would be which princess would get to hold her leash first. Meanwhile, their parents disappeared for the whole day, not seeing them again until dusk. Megan now suspected that the circus that she'd been a part of was just a side trip for the kids.

The princesses did not seem to mind, nor care as they were more than happy with Megan at their side. Wherever they went, so did she. Except for meals. Speaking of which, at least the unicorns' meal times were much like her own. The griffins usually had two meals a day. The unicorns had the proper three. They had completely forgotten to fed her the first night, and she had not noticed until the next morning when she wolfed down her breakfast. Which was oatmeal. The princesses had been mightily upset at having forgotten something as stupidly important as feeding their pet; Margaret even started crying. They looked so adorable when they were sad that Megan could not help but forgive them. A few hugs latter and the whole incident was forgotten.

They must have gotten her dietary requirements from PT because they feed her exactly the same as he had. Vegetables and fish, cooked thankfully. She ate alone in the princesses' room, both of them making sure she was fed before leaving to feed themselves. PT also must have told them that she was capable of handling utensils for they always gave her a spoon. It was a little awkward at first, as everyone had stood by and watched her eat the first time. They were fascinated at watching her fingers manipulate the wooden spoon, muttering to each other as her jaw and throat worked. That soon grew old, for everyone but the princesses. They seemed to believe that everything she did was interesting.

The only other awkward moment came when it was time to use the necessary, for she was given a large porcelain bowl filled with sand. Great, Megan thought, I've got my own litter box. Although she'd seen bathrooms, she avoided using them, out of fear that it would show too much intelligence. The unicorn monarchs and the palace staff seemed somewhat relieved that she took the time to dig a hole in the sand and bury her business. Only the princesses seemed disgusted with it, so she made every effort she could to relieve herself when they weren't around.

Speaking of which, it seemed that she took over daycare duty from their bodyguard. She looked after the princesses while he hovered in the background. He seemed aware of the switch because after a few days, there was a cheerful look upon his face that Megan had never seen before. She had to alternate her attention between the two sisters because like all siblings, what one wanted the other had to have.
The hardest part was deciding who went first. Blow ups were now a constant ritual of the mornings as both sisters seemed to believe that it was their turn first. Megan always had to step in to end these with little tricks and shows, which was quickly draining her already limited repertoire. During these arguments, she could also see the bodyguard standing off in the background, a smirk on his face. It was almost as if her were saying 'better you than me.' He was probably the biggest winner out of the deal to make her a pet, because he now no longer had to deal with the princesses' behaviour. Megan made a mental note to herself to accidentally spill some of her oatmeal all over his face sometime in the near future.

Of course, she also had her gittern. The princesses would sit enraptured for hours, listening to her play. Most of the times, she did not play any songs, but just strummed whatever came to mind. The two sisters neither seemed to notice nor care. To them, she was the greatest gittern player in the whole world.

***

By the dawning of the sixth day, something different was noticeable. Everything was being packed up. The toy chests, clothes, bed sheets. It did not take a genius to figure it out. The trip was over and the whole party was leaving for home, wherever home was. After everything the princesses owned had been packed up, it was shipped out. Their bodyguard then ushered them across to the room opposite theirs where their parents were supervising their own baggage.

Cleopatra was there as well, constantly shadowing the unicorn queen's every move. She kept talking to her, but it was clear that the queen was only half-heartedly paying attention. She was more concerned with some large chests that contained the fancies dresses Megan had ever seen. Her husband was supervising the palace staff, all zebras, giving out instructions, which the staff followed with haste. They would fill one chest and lock it shut, before picking up the handles on either end with their teeth, and walking out into the hall with it. Megan watched with little indifference, realising that she no longer cared about the zebras using their mouths to handle objects.

The unicorn queen was momentarily distracted when her two daughters rushed up to her. She patted each of them affectionately on the head, before returning to her conversation with Cleopatra. The father made a passing comment to the bodyguard who quickly escorted the princesses and Megan from the room. Once outside, her leash was attached and they headed down the hallway towards the palace entrance.

There was a large collection of unicorn and pegasi guards waiting for them. Upon seeing the two princesses, they all stiffened to attention. Elizabeth wondered over to the nearest guard and gave a little salute. The guard in question smiled back as he and a few of his comrades returned the gesture with professionalism. Margaret was busy holding Megan's leash, talking excitedly to her about something. Whatever it was, it involved something that was up in the air. Most likely the blimp.

The group did not have to wait too long, for the princesses' parents soon emerged with Cleopatra, who had her own personal entourage of what had to be nobles and guards, and the whole procession was under way. That was the proper word for it, for the collection travelled down what had to be a main road, because it was the widest one Megan had seen in the city. The reason for why became evident enough as the sides of the road were packed with zebras, shouting out what had to be farewells and well wishes, waving flags of the unicorns. The princesses revelled in the attention, turning their heads from left to right, trying to wave back to everyone. They even rose up on their hind legs to wave both front hooves at the crowd.

Eventually, they made their way down towards a familiar looking clear section not far away from the harbour. The blimp was surrounded by pegasi in their grey Roman style armour and constantly watching the large crowd. Their luggage was in the process of being loaded onto the blimp by unicorns. The zebra staff who'd carried it from Cleopatra's palace had long since been dismissed. Cleopatra herself was allowed into the protective circle of unicorn and pegasi guards but her own entourage was not. She said her farewells to the unicorn monarchs who were very courteous in return.

Finally, the princesses were ushered onto the blimp. Megan could not help but look around in awe as she followed Margaret up the gangplank and onto the ship section. Looking up at this thing, Megan wasn't sure how something like this could be practical. It looked like a machine Leonardo Da Vinci would dream up, and held a 'Just because it can, doesn't mean it should,' vibe about it. Yet, this thing was somehow going to fly? She looked up at the huge gas bag. It was purple and had a fish tail of all things, located at the rear. She observed every angle of the strange craft and yet could find no practically to its construction. How was this thing supposed to steer? What function did the webbed fins, plastered all over serve? How do they gain and lower altitude? What the dickens was in that airbag?

The princesses led her towards the cabin at the far end and through a large door, which was opened by their bodyguard who ushered them all inside. It was a large room with one large double bed at the foot of a long window, a bathroom door, a dining table and a bunk bed nestled up against the other side of the room. The room also contained three unicorn mares in elaborate dresses that could only be servants, or maids.

They all started bowing as the princesses entered the room, but baulked upon seeing Megan. The maid in the middle hissed something at the other two who quickly regained their composure and bowed. Margaret led Megan over to the maids and began talking to them, occasionally saying her name, no doubt introducing her. The maids eyed her with cautious curiosity.

Margaret removed Megan's leash and handed it to the bodyguard, while Elizabeth started rummaging through her toy chest. She appeared to be checking to see if everything was still there. The maids set about unpacking a few things, before there was a knock on the door. A voice called back from the other side, causing the maids to cease their unpacking and set about organising the princesses. They all then headed back outside to see that everyone was now aboard the blimp ship.

The princesses were called over to the railing by their parents so that they could wave to the crowd of zebras, who were waving back and cheering loudly. As with the precession, both princesses stood upon their hind legs so that they could wave both front hooves to the crowds. Megan watched everything with a little curiosity. She'd noticed, but never taken any heed to the cheering beforehand. When they were proceeding through the city, the crowd had cheered loudly at the sight of the princesses. Both of them. Now, it was more noticeable as when the princesses appeared before the crowd, their cheering increased in volume.

Were they extremely popular? Granted, they were adorable and cute. Listening to the zebras, their cheering sounded sincere.

All of a sudden, Megan felt the ground beneath her shift, and looking around, saw that the blimp was at last taking off. The princesses waved good-bye to the crowd as they began to shrink below them. Margaret kept leaning over the railing to wave to the zebras, to the point where Elizabeth had to grab her by the tail and pull her back. She sat down on her hind quarters as she rubbed at her tail with a mournful expression. Megan smiled, and walking over with slow and deliberate movements, carefully bent down and picking up Margaret, placed her on her shoulders so that she could get a better view.
Margaret squeaked happily as she climbed atop Megan's head and waved to the zebras below, now losing detail due to the height they were now at. Megan could see many of the unicorn deck hands were watching her with interest, while the soldiers were more relaxed now. From the looks on the faces of the ship's crew, and from the quick recovery of the head maid, they had no doubt heard about her or at least been briefed, but as the old saying goes, 'seeing is believing.'

Megan had to hold onto the rail as the ship banked hard left, circling about, before heading out over the ocean. Eventually, the crowd was lost amidst the city, and everybody went about their business. Margaret cheered loudly as she spoke in excited tones to her parents who watched with smiles on their faces. She mentioned Megan's name a few times, even stroking her hair.

She then paused, before feeling her hair again, and then leaned down to sniff at it. She jerked her head back, snorting loudly. Both the unicorn monarchs and Elizabeth leaned in close and gave a cautious sniff. Elizabeth's muzzle wrinkled in disgust while their parents just snorted. Megan frowned and sniffed at herself. She stank. When was the last time she'd had a bath?

Margaret's cries filled the air as she started giving out orders, all the while pointing towards their cabin. Elizabeth smirked at her sister's authoritative tone and beckoned Megan to follow her. Their bodyguard followed them as they headed into the bathroom section she'd seen earlier. It was nothing more than a squat toilet, a basin, mirror, and a Jacuzzi. Margaret's orders still filled the air as the three maids all set about filling the tub with water, before adding a pink liquid from a glass bottle that turned the water into a foamy red colour.

Megan blinked. She was going to get a bath. She looked around at everyone in the room and quickly understood she wasn't going to get any privacy. She sighed and lifting Margaret from her shoulders, set about taking off her clothes. She made sure to sneak the ruby out of her dress and hide it inside her mouth, just under her tongue.

Everyone present looked a little confused as she put an arm across her breasts while using her free hand to cover up her genitalia. Elizabeth seemed curious about her naked body and asked the bodyguard something in a questioning tone, while he just rubbed his chin in response. All three maids were trying, and failing not to look curious. She quickly climbed into the tub as the head maid turned off the tap. All of a sudden, she cried out in alarm as Margaret leapt into the air and cannon balled into the tub. Red foamy water went everywhere. Elizabeth shook her mane free of water, laughed, and jumped on it as well, dog paddling around. The maids all stared out from behind a mask of red foam with a resigned look in their eyes. The bodyguard, who had wisely stood back, was trying to suppress a grin.

Margaret appeared behind Megan, pushing her shoulders down, till her chin was touching the waters surface. The head maid levitated over a porcelain bowl, filled it with some of the bath water, and carefully poured it over Megan's head, making sure to soak her hair. Elizabeth appeared next to Margaret and the two grabbed hoof-fuls of red foam, and began working it into her hair.

The other two maids appeared at the rim of the tub, levitating over sponges and towels. The two princesses were rather gentle with their hooves as they worked the soapy foam into her hair. Elizabeth took one of the sponges from the maids and started washing her skin. Megan just sat there, allowing herself to be bathed much like she herself would wash TJ. She smiled at the memory. TJ would love baths. He would stand there and allow himself to be washed, almost as if Megan were his personal maid.

She obediently raised her arms and legs to allow the children to wash them. She washed her torso section herself. The equines present thought it was cute that she could do that. At first, she feared that it would be a sign of too much intelligence, but she quickly realised that if she could play a gittern, bury her own excrement and not have them get suspicious, it would be okay to show them she could wash herself. All part of the act that she was a smart and trained animal. She would just have to be careful with more complex things.

As she sat there, she wondered just what 'complex things' would be? She'd have to make a mental note. At that moment, all eyes were drawn towards a stifled giggle from the bathroom doorway. The two unicorn monarchs stood there, the queen with a hoof over her mouth and her husband with an amused smile on his lips. He asked the head maid something, and she just rolled her eyes response. Both children waved happily to their parents, and started chirping about this and that in regards to Megan.
Their father walked in and taking in all the water and foam that had escaped the tub, 'tsked' to himself. The head maid began speaking to him in an apologetic tone, but he only waved it away with a smile.

Eventually, Megan was declared clean, if one could translate from Margaret's triumphant cries. She was escorted out of the tub by both the princesses and over to a mat where, after being instructed to sit down by Elizabeth, she was towelled off.

When Margaret announced something in a cheerful voice, both the unicorn monarchs leaned in and sniffed experimentally. They smiled and nodded in approval. Megan gave herself a quick sniff, to discover a rose scented smell now emitted from her skin and hair. The other two maids appeared beside her, levitating two brushes, which the princesses eagerly took using their mouths rather than their telekinesis. Megan sat there patiently, while the princesses tenderly and methodically brushed her long hair. They were awfully careful and very gentle as they brushed and Megan could not help but feel lulled into a drowsy state from their work.

Once more, Margaret's cheerful voice announced the completion of their work. Megan sneaked a quick look in the bathroom mirror. Her hair had been brushed out to its full length, while the front had been brushed back around and behind her ears. Simple, but convenient. She subconsciously rubbed her tongue against the ruby that she'd hidden under it. There had been numerous times she nearly swallowed it as the princesses had washed her. She'd need to get it back into her dress before...

Her dress was gone. Her whole ensemble was gone. She looked around frantically for it, before she remembered that it too had stunk. Probably it was taken away for a good washing. That just left her with a little problem. She had nothing to wear. All eyes turned to her as she looked about for something. Taking one of the towels, she wrapped it around her torso. Not exactly the latest fashion but it'll do.

Margaret trotted up to her and looking up into her face, asked something in a questioning tone. Elizabeth appeared at her side feeling her arm, or to be precise, her skin. All adults in the room muttered in deep thought. Elizabeth asked something of her parents while feeling her skin. All came over to observe her, poking and prodding her body, not too roughly; they were feeling her skin. Their father made a comment that caused all to look down at their own bodies, or to their own fur. Margaret rubbed a hoof along her own and then looked over at Megan.

She said something in a worried tone that caused the rest to frown. The queen said something that made the head maid leave with haste. She returned not long afterwards levitating a large deep purple woollen robe of sorts, which she gave to Megan. Megan looked at it, before flipping it around in her hands. The robe was small for her, but the reason soon became evident. It was made for a unicorn, with short sleeves at the front for their front legs while it covered her legs rather well, as it was supposed to cover a unicorns hindquarters.

Sadly, there was no tie in which to secure it around her waist. Megan suspected that this was the unicorn equivalent of a bathrobe. Its small build let it hug her figure as she snuggled into its warmth, trying to keep the front section closed. The head maid must have realised what she was trying to do, for she suddenly disappeared, then reappeared with a leather belt. With this, she was able to secure it closed. Its sleeves only came up to her elbows, while the bottom of the robe brushed just above her ankles.

She made signs of hugging the robe, showing that she liked the warmth it provided and the two princesses cheered. Satisfied that their new pet wasn't going to freeze, they then got her to follow them back out into the main room, while the maids all set about cleaning up the mess.

***

Days passed slowly. They always passed slowly when you had nothing to do, and nowhere to go. Life on board the blimp pretty much fell back into the same routine that life on-board PT's boat had. Only she wasn't allowed to explore like she had been with the zebras. Part of the reason was every time she attempted to go some place, there would be unicorns who would shoo her off, like one would with a dog. The other reason was the princesses. They had their own activities planned and Megan had to be a part of them. Whether it be playing games, or playing her gittern, or just playing with the two fillies.

Their parents were now able to spend more time with their children, but it usually involved reading them stories or watching and just accompanying them in their strolls around the blimp. She quickly grew tired of only calling them the unicorn monarchs and started thinking of decent names for them. The answer immediately solved itself, when Megan began to notice that the queen appeared to be the one in charge. Her husband, although shown great respect, didn't appear to hold much authority. So, she settled on calling the mare, Queen Victoria, and the stallion, Prince Albert.

Megan took most opportunities to observe the blimp life. Just like PT's ship, it had a crew whose jobs involved looking after assigned areas. Unlike PT's ship, there were soldiers. Two kinds. The unicorn soldiers were the most numerous. Their golden plate armour and marion helmets stood out in contrast to the other type, the pegasi. Their armour and helmets were reminiscent of the ancient Greeks, not surprising considering they were of Greek mythology. Their armour was an ashen grey, and stood out among the pastel colours of the few pegasi that could be seen.

There weren't many. The unicorns outnumber them five to one. Most of the time, they were flying above and below the blimp, providing a primitive version of Combat Air Patrolling. The ones who weren't didn't fraternise with anyone else but their own. They answered to no one but the unicorn monarchs, and tried their best to avoid eye contact with the unicorn soldiers, who in turn, did their best to pretend that their winged comrades did not exist. However, both sides appeared to not only adore the princesses, but hold a genuine love and respect for them.

They would turn their heads, interrupting whatever conversation they were engaged in to observe and smile at them, whenever they passed by. At first, Megan believed it was because they adored all children, but it soon became evident that it wasn't the case. She first noticed the difference between the way the pegasi would greet the parents, in which they would show respect, and then greet the children, in which they would be uncharacteristically humble.

Why? Granted, they were the only winged unicorns she'd seen, but she doubted that was the case. What made these two so special, that the pegasi would practically fall over themselves in their presence while not even bothering to give other unicorns the time of day. It almost mimicked the behaviour of the zebras.

Out of all the pegasi, the princesses seemed to have a certain amount of admiration for one, a female. She had a pink fur coat, with a light blue mane. She also appeared to be the only Pegasus to be female. On more than one occasion, she had approached her to survey her body from every angle, but wouldn't come within reaching distance of Megan's hands, which she was wary of. The looks she gave Megan's hands told that there was a story involving her and fingers, that didn't end well. This ended up being right when she nearly had a heart attack when Margaret had nuzzled her hand, demanding a scratch behind her ears.

During the one time she'd caught the Pegasus without any armour, she saw that, just like the princesses, she too had a picture on her flank. Or more like a symbol. It was of two lightning bolts, the same colour as her mane. She wished she could understand the meaning behind these wear flank tattoos. Many of the pegasi kept wearing their armour, even when they hung out in their quarters. Incidentally, this was the only place off-duty pegasi could be found.

The princesses would often come down to see this pink Pegasus, who in turn was more than happy to accommodate the two, no matter what she was doing. During their second visit, she learnt why. The first time they saw her, it was to show Megan off. That was the first time she saw her. During their second trip, she had asked the princess's something in a questioning tone with an underlining tone of bravado, to which they both puffed up their chests and nodded. She then sat back on her haunches and folded her forelegs across her chest, before they then proceeded to flap their little wings and lift off the ground.

It looked so cute. Elizabeth had no problems whatsoever, as her little wings blurred, allowing her to hover, before performing a loop-de-loop. Margaret, on the other hand wasn't so skilled. She could just lift herself off the ground, and that was it. The pink pegasus was very supportive of Margaret, comforting her with some soothing words. So pinkie was teaching the two princesses how to fly.

Even when she was on combat air patrols, the princesses would often wave and call out to her. Pinkie would wave back, and then zoom off in a pink and blue blur, or perform some dazzling acrobatic stunt. The princesses loved it, cheering and whooping in response. No doubt about it, pinkie was a show-off, allowing Megan to decide on the perfect name for her: Amelia Earhart.

As the days turned into weeks, the crew grew more nervous for some reason. It all started when one of the unicorns, Megan had come to recognise as the captain, approached the queen, levitating a scroll. Megan had no idea where he'd gotten it from, but whatever was on it apparently put the scotch on everyone's good cheer. Air patrols were doubled, and all the unicorn soldiers were constantly scanning the horizon with telescopes in a manner that showed they were expecting trouble.

At night time, the numerous lights that adorned the blimp were extinguished and at least five more unicorn soldiers joined the royal family in their room at night, constantly on guard. It reminded Megan of when she'd been on PT's boat, and everyone had been on the lookout for pirates.

Whatever the answer was, pirates or not, nothing happened. Weeks went by with no sign of trouble. Boats were occasionally spotted, but investigations from the blimps pegasi contingent would always return with news that would put everyone at ease.

By the time everyone's nerves were calm, Megan could not help but wonder what had happened. That was twice there were supposed to be pirates in the area and they weren't. Why? Were they smart enough to realise it would not be wise attacking the unicorn monarchs royal blimp? Or was it something else? Was there other, easier game elsewhere? Or did they have other pressing matters to attend to? In the end, Megan found that she did not want to know. After all, no news is always the best news, and besides, she had more pressing matters of her own to attend to. Whatever the pirates were up to, it didn't involve her, and that was just peachy.

***

The air was starting to get cooler. That was the first indication that they were approaching land. It wasn't as chilly as it had been back on the griffin's continent, but it was noticeably colder than the zebra city. The sky was becoming more familiar in its colour, and she wasn't perspiring anymore.

Her zebra clothes had indeed been washed and returned to her, although how she did not know. She never saw any washing equipment, nor any clothes lines. Thank Christ for that, as she had gotten a sore tongue from hiding that ruby underneath it for two straight days. Eating meals had also proven to be a real challenge, not to mention sleeping. Still, she'd gotten by, and even with her clothes back, it was cool enough that she wished she had that woollen robe she'd used. She tried to avoid the open air as much as possible, which proved impossible as the two princesses were always up on deck.

She tried to get across to them that she needed more clothing, by dramatically shivering whenever a breeze blew across the deck, but this just resulted in the princesses taking her back to their room and leaving her there. On the plus side, it didn't get any colder.

Finally, one morning she was awoken by triumphant shouting from out on the deck. The entire family slowly woke as well, before listening to the cries and talking among themselves in an excited tone. Megan rose from the mat she'd been given to sleep on, as Margaret bound out from the bottom bunk and ran over to the window, looking out. Whatever was out there, caused her to bounce up and down, her little wings blurring as she mimicked the cries from outside.

Elizabeth soon joined her sister's side and started mimicking her. Both Victoria and Albert smiled as they too, climbed from their bed to stare out the window with smiles. Megan slowly rose from her mat, her joints popping from sleeping in a curled up position, as she joined the whole family by the window.
Land. They were flying over a coastline. At first, Megan did not understand why land would have them so ecstatic before she came to the logical conclusion: This must be their home. It took some time to sink in, but the land below looked neat, pristine, and almost harmonious. The Griffon lands looked wild in comparison.

After breakfast, the whole family went for a stroll on deck. The crew looked happier, and even the soldiers of both races looked relieved. Amelia was performing her usual CAP duties, but with more vigour, banking hard towards the blimp from up high to buzz the airship at dangerous speeds, which caused the cables connecting to the ship structure to vibrate. No one yelled at her or chastised her. The unicorn crew even cheered her on. The princesses loved it, and even the two monarchs seemed a little amused.

As she followed Amelia's flight back up into the sky, Megan saw the sun, and frowned. Was it her imagination, but was it raising way too fast? She blinked and turned away. Staring directly into the sun was not good for your eyes. As she looked back, she could've sworn it was a little higher from the last time.

Soon, the coast line passed beneath the blimp, and finally, the ocean was no longer visible. The landscape below was dotted with various town and hamlets with a medieval look to them. Within these towns, numerous equine shaped figures moved about. Most were tending to fields, general maintenance, or crowding the many street markets. As the blimp sailed overhead, they all stopped to wave or cheer the blimp.

Elizabeth and Margaret both leaned perilously over the railing to wave back to the figures below, while their parents just stood back and made sure they weren't going to tumble over the side. To her surprise, a few of the unicorn crew and even the soldiers looked over the edge with mild distaste at those below. Megan looked down at the figures, happily waving up at them, or she was beginning to suspect, the princesses. Again, what was it about them that would impress everyone?

And again, whatever the answer, she would not find out as they left the villages and towns behind. Of course, she was more concerned with the new sight that greeted her on the horizon. A large mountain with some kind of growth attached to its side. The atmosphere on-board grew more ecstatic as the mountain loomed into view; and then she saw it. The growth on the side of the mountain was, in fact, a castle.

Much like the blimp, it too had that feel about it, one that really, REALLY should not have made it past the blue prints! The closer they drew towards it, the more detail Megan could make out, like towers with battlements, and fluttering pennants. A majestic waterfall cascaded and tumbled down into a mini lake that acted as a moat, before branching off into another waterfall that disappeared down the mountain side. At the base of the castle, appeared to be some a city that was built into and around the rocky slope.

The pegasi providing air cover peeled off towards the underside of the large castle, to where Megan could see what looked like a dock, built out over the empty air. It did not take much brain matter to figure that one out. The blimp began to lower in altitude as it nosed ever closer to that purpose built dock. The pegasi waited as ropes were levitated up to them by unicorn dock workers. Once they received their ropes, they floated back to the blimp, before tossing the rope lines to the unicorn deck-hands. They caught the ropes with their telekinesis and proceeded to secure them.

The blimp was suddenly yanked downwards, and Megan nearly lost her balance. Not so for the unicorns who were amazingly stable, and didn't even shudder from the abrupt movement. In fact, some even gave her pitying glances as if they felt sorry for her, only having two legs.

Waiting on the dock, was a large gathering of unicorns, decked out in some of the fanciest clothes Megan had ever seen. There was also another group that stuck out in sharp contrast, because they were dressed in hooded robes. There were two kinds, ones with white robes, and others with a sapphire blue. Both robed unicorns also wore medallions or sorts around their neck that glittered in the sunlight. The medallions were a series of star patterns that reminded her of the Southern Cross constellation. Megan's gaze could not help but linger on those medallions. The star pattern seemed strangely familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on where she'd seen it before. The pegasi watched and even gave directions as the deck-hands and dock workers, worked in conjunction with each other to bring the blimp up alongside the dock, before finally securing it.

A gangplank was lowered and the royal family started towards it while Megan quickly followed, not wanting to be left behind. Elizabeth's voice caught her attention and she saw the leash levitating before her. This time, Megan did not hesitate. She allowed the young filly to secure it, before leading her over to the gangplank. The two princesses bounced up and down their wings a blur as they followed their parents all the way from the gangplank and onto the dock. More than once, Megan had to will herself not to look down, or to try and imagine a nice, calm ocean below, instead of a nearly bottomless drop. The instant the last of the family set hooves of the dock, the waiting crowd of important looking unicorns all bowed as one.

The queen said something that caused all present to rise, before one fancy looking unicorn stallion with a white coat, blond mane and... Megan blinked… a beard? He had a full blond beard around his muzzle. She could not stop staring at him. Mary, Mother of God, how did, no, how could that work? That just wasn't logical. How does this guy shave? Makeup on fur was one thing, but beards on fur...? Before Megan could mentally rant about it some more, the stallion in question stepped forth to deliver, no doubt, a welcome home speech. The two princesses looked bored as he spoke for not quite twenty-minutes. Queen Victoria gave a speech of her own to the assembled crowd, before receiving a cheer of sorts. The crowd then parted, allowing the royal family to proceed down through the middle.

It was then that the crowd finally noticed Megan. All eyes turned to her as one as curious stares blinked back at her. The fancy stallion asked something of Victoria, while pointing a hoof in her direction. The queen started to give an explanation, which was instantly highjacked by the princesses, as they started jabbering excitedly to the stallion, all the while saying her name multiple times.

She heard a few in the crowd attempting it, while comments were shared back and forth. Some questioning, others joking, and a few seemed to be pitying. That confused her until she realised that those comments coincided with stares at her attire. She heard the unicorn word for zebra, tossed around a few times, as well. Victoria interrupted everyone with a questioned announcement, to which the fancy stallion was more than eager to answer.

This satisfied the queen, who called for her family to follow. The stares followed Megan as she made her way through the crowd of unicorns. No. She nearly stopped when she saw that one of the equines, wasn't a unicorn. It wasn't even a Pegasus. It was a plain old-fashioned horse. No horns or wings. He wore fancy clothing just like the rest of the unicorns, and like both the pegasi and unicorns, was a pastel colour, but his lack of a horn made him stand out like a sore thumb.

Elizabeth pulled slightly on the leash to remind Megan that they had some place to go. The crowd fell in behind the royal family as they made their way down the dock, before climbing up a set of stairs that tunnelled up into the rocky mountain. There were small torches burning within, lighting the way. To Megan's surprise, they gave off no heat, and seemed to be producing no smoke. She would've liked to examine them, but the unicorns seemed to be able to ascend the steep steps with their four legs, faster than she could with her two. Plus the leash.

They emerged out onto levelled ground, where a parade had been organised. Unicorns lined the sides of the street, cheering loudly as the royal family made their appearance. All the royals waved back at the crowd. There were a few stares aimed at Megan, but for the most part, the crowd was more interested in the return of the royal family. Or more importantly, the princesses. Just like the zebras, their cheers were aimed at them, and the princesses adored every second of it. Megan took the time to observe the crowd and her surroundings as they walked. Although the unicorns wore fancy clothes, they weren't as elaborate as the ones worn by the group that was waiting at the sky dock. She also saw more of those normal horses among the crowds, as well. The unicorns still outnumbered them five to one, but they were here and there, and sometimes in small groups.

The city they walked through was a little strange. It had the look of a western European city, but as if romanticised by Hollywood. No garbage could be seen anywhere, and the buildings looked as though they were built yesterday, giving the entire city a picturesque look to it. The crowd did not look dirty or filthy. They and the clothes they wore looked as neat as the whole city itself.

The procession took them through what was the main street of the city towards the castle. Unicorns patrolled the battlements while the occasional pegasi could be seen circling about up high in pairs. The royal family was ushered through the gate and into the courtyard where a phalanx of unicorn servants were waiting, and greeted them with deep bows. Megan watched as what appeared to be the head servant approached the royal family with a rehearsed welcome back speech. Letting her gaze play over the assembled crowd of servants, Megan noticed that they were all unicorns. No pegasi, or regular horses at all.

As she watched the unicorns, it slowly dawned on her that they were returning the favour. Although their heads were lowered in respect, she could see their eyes aimed at her. A few of the younger, newer servants were blatantly staring. The head servant was now looking in her direction, and she then turned to address the queen in a questioning tone. Victoria answered back with many references to the zebras, and the two princesses. She looked Megan over once more, before talking to Victoria in a displeased tone.

Whatever she was talking about, caused Victoria to turn and observe her, rubbing her chin in thought. She turned back to the servant and nodded, before speaking to her. The head servant turned and snapped something out in an authoritative tone, before one of the servants rushed forward. The head servant pointed at Megan and began speaking what had to be orders, while the servant in question, a female, looked nervous. However, she soon realised that she wasn't nervous about Megan, but something else… their destination? When she finished, the two princesses jumped up and down, asking something that ended in a questioning tone. Victoria nodded and they both cried out happily, before trotting off towards the castle, following the servant who had been called forth. Megan had no choice but to follow as the leash reminded her of her current predicament.

The inside of the castle was huge, giving it a slight TARDIS effect when compared with the outside. The ceiling towered high above while the halls seemed to stretch on forever. Megan, unfortunately, paid too much attention to this, and not on where she was going that she quickly lost all sense of direction. Thankfully the servant seemed to know, as they were led outside into an enclosed garden area in the back of the castle. The garden looked beautiful, what little she saw of it. She wasn't given time to gawk as they were ushered up a flight of stairs that spiralled up and around a tall, thin white tower with a purple roof.

The stairs were not only steep, but just like the halls, held the illusion of endlessness. After five minutes of climbing, she was having trouble keeping up with Elizabeth. The white princesses noticed this and asked something of Megan in a worried tone. The servant who was with them made a passing comment that caused both princesses to look more closely at her two legs. After this, they proceeded up the stairs a lot more slowly. Finally, they reached the top where a small landing awaited them, and a set of double doors, that had a rushed looking note, tacked to it that didn't look friendly. The servant looked positively ill as she politely knocked twice, and stood back.

The doors were thrown open to reveal another unicorn. An infuriated one. She had a pale blue coat with a long, purple mane that had a red streak through it that looked like it had not seen a good shower in years. Her flank revealed a tattoo of ten blue, glittering diamonds. Her overall appearance gave the impression that the mare had just woken up, however, her wide eyed expression clearly told the tale she'd been up for quite some time. She gave the maid an indignant look, until she saw the princesses and immediately brightened. She spoke them with a frantic high-speed voice, somewhat reminiscent of a stereotypical mad scientist, unintentionally completing the look by rubbing her hooves gleefully together. The dishevelled appearance also helped add to the illusion, especially as she grabbed the two fillies and yanked them inside; Along with Megan.

It was a rounded room with a bed, cupboard, dresser and mirror... and that was all that could be identified. The rest of the room was swamped beneath rolls of fabric that sparkled with a life of their own. Numerous empty bowls that contained some long ago dish lay haphazardly stacked up in one corner of the room, some of them still contained the remains of whatever it had been which was now starting to attract flies. The unicorn mare's horn began to glow as she lifted up a sheet of fabric and held it out to the princesses. They both shook their heads and pointed at Megan. The unicorn looked up, and performed a rather comical double take, back peddling into the rolls of fabric and knocking them over. They crashed down upon the poor unicorn, swamping her and muffling her outraged shrieks. The two princesses giggled at the struggling lump of fabric that jerked and twisted, and Megan could not help but crack a smile herself.

Finally, the unicorn emerged from underneath to glare at Megan. She marched boldly up to the girl, preparing to make shooing motions when she spotted the collar, and the leash it was attached to. She followed its length back to Elizabeth, safely secured within the grasp of her telekinesis. Elizabeth began explaining something to the unicorn who just blinked back in amazement. When Elizabeth was done, she turned to gape disdainfully at Megan, before slowly eyeing her dress. She lifted up the front flap of the dress using her own telekinesis and muttered disapprovingly.

She began speaking in a dismissive tone, throwing out the word for zebra quite a lot as she looked over the many fabrics her room held. Exactly like the castle, this room held a TARDIS look. Rolls upon rolls of fabric lines the walls, obscuring the outside world from the once proud windows. She pulled out a tape measure and cautiously approached Megan, making sure to keep a safe distance as she used her telekinesis to get her basic measurements.

Megan blinked in surprise. New clothes. Was this the reason why she had been taken here? Was she going to be fitted out with new clothes? Why? She remembered back to the disapproval of her clothes by the fancy crowd at the sky dock, and the head servant. She looked down at her zebra attire with its strange line patterns. What was wrong with it? Granted, it did look a little worn out, but whatever the reason, nobody liked it. She quickly shrugged it aside. There was no way she could simply ask why, and besides, it would be nice to have a wardrobe that included something other than Jane of the Jungle.
The unicorn mare examined Megan while she worked. She thoroughly studied her arms, legs, waist, chest and even spent some time circling her feet. She got the princesses to have Megan raise her both her feet, one at a time, so she could examine the soles. What she saw made her muzzle twitch and when she poked them, her frown deepening as Megan giggled from the touch of her hooves. She could not help it if she were ticklish. Finally, she finished her calculations and observations, and headed off to a work bench that Megan had missed during her first glances, because it was submerged beneath a mountain of cloth and fabric.

Clearly she did not like the looks of Megan one bit, but was willing to work on new clothes for the princess's sake. Or, if the tone and hyperactive speed of her voice were any indication, she was more interested in the challenge of creating clothes for her bipedal form. And boy did she work fast. She ran this way and that, snatching cloth and fabric from the organised mess that was the room, causing the princesses to duck or in some instances, leap out of the way. She grew way too immersed within her work, often hunching over her project, and getting up to retrieve something else, never losing that hunched posture. Within half an hour, she had Megan's new clothes, complete with shoes, ready for trying on.

It was a set of light-blue overalls, with frills along the sides and on the hem, which ended at her ankles, and crowned with an embroidered pink heart on the chest area. The shirt she was given to wear was a pink button-up blouse with a white collar, and the sleeves extending down to her elbows, ending in white frills. The shoes were slip-ons and just like the colour of the shirt, were pink. The sight of the shoes had raised questions from the princesses, but the mare just pointed at Megan's feet and said something that caused both of them to cast a pitying glance at the two appendages. The mare then indicated towards the ensemble, not daring to come any closer to her. Although hesitant in coming nearer to Megan, she looked eager for her to try it on, including both princesses.

The princesses own eagerness soon turned to impatience as they started tugging at her dress with their telekinesis, trying to take it off so that they could get her into her new clothes. Carefully slipping the ruby from the hem of her dress, under the disguise of untying the ties, Megan climbed out of her zebra attire and started dressing in her new unicorn issued clothing. When she was finished, she could not help but admit, they were much warmer than her last pair. While pulling on the overalls, she discovered a small flap of fabric behind the embroidered heart, which could act as a makeshift pocket. She managed to slip the ruby in there without anyone noticing. The only thing that was lacking were a pair of bra and panties. Oh, what she would not give for underwear, but sadly, the only pair of purpose built human underwear quite literally existed on another continent.

All present appeared pleased with the work. The princesses believed it cute, clapping their fore hooves together widely, while the unicorn mare went off on a long-winded, smug sounding speech. Megan thought it would have been lovely, if she were still a single digit age. Good God in the foothills, this was something you'd give a baby, not a fully grown adult woman. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing this even if she were twelve years old.

The one thing that kept her from tearing it from her body were the princesses. They stared up at her with big, wide and adorable eyes filled with joy. They loved it. Megan was now beginning to understand how TJ felt that one time at Christmas she'd stuck the antler horns atop his head. He had hated it. He'd spent the whole day trying to dislodge them at every opportunity, and when she finally took them off, he would not even look at her. Karma is such a fickle thing.

Megan turned back to the unicorn mare, now cackling with pride. Megan had to admit, she knew how to do her job, even if she did not like the result. Looking around the room and at the unicorns own tardy appearance, she struck Megan as the type of person who'd be the disgusting genius. Still, because of her fashion designing skills, Megan knew instantly the perfect name for her: Coco Chanel.

Ecstatic that their pet had some new and cute clothes, the princesses quickly left the room and into the care of the servant mare, who'd been patiently waiting outside the whole time. After she realised she wasn't able to get the princesses to stick around, Coco slammed the doors closed so she could do her own thing, which turned out to be singing rather horribly off-key. The princesses and the servant mare flattened their ears as they increased their speed back down the stairs.

***

Over the course of the day, the entire castle staff came to know about Megan. At first, there was the usual hesitance, but that quickly gave way to curiosity and finally acceptance. All of the staff thought Megan looked adorable, now that she wore her new clothes. They cooed and smiled pleasantly in her direction, while some were bold enough to stroke her hair. They would gently touch it then pat it, before running off to giggle to their friends about it, commenting about it while dramatically looking at the hooves they used to feel her; probably talking about the texture.

The princesses enjoyed showing Megan off to everyone they could find. They paraded Megan around the entire castle, gleefully answering any and all questions about her. Most of the times, she carried one the princesses around on her back, as they traversed the seemingly endless halls of the palace. One difference Megan did notice was that their bodyguard was no longer accompanying them, as they moved about the palace freely with no escort or watchful eyes. Megan could only guess that they were considered safe within the castle walls.

Sometime later, lunch was called. Although she was allowed to join the princesses in the dining hall, she wasn't permitted at the table. She had a mat to sit on while the royal family sat on strange looking chairs, at the table to eat their lunch. The said lunch turned out to be fresh fruit, bread with some flowers, and hay. Her lunch turned out to be soup. Again. Only this time, it was the most delicious version she'd ever eaten. Every ingredient seemed absolutely perfect. She spooned her lunch into her mouth, trying to ignore the curious stares of the dining room and even the kitchen staff. She could not help but wonder what the unicorns did differently here compared with the zebras and the ship? And how long would it be before she could sick of fish and vegetable soup?

After lunch, the princesses decided to take Megan with them back to their room. It turned out to be rooms, as they both lived on opposite sides of each other. Their luggage had been piled up outside both doors and a large collection of maids and butlers was unpacking everything into their respective rooms. As she allowed herself to be dragged about by the princesses and shown both rooms, one of the maids had shown up with what was supposed to be her new bed, while she was being shown Margaret's room. This time she was provided with not only an enormously large red cushion, embroidered in a golden silk with a fancy version of the unicorn flag, but a golden woollen rug. While relieved that she would not be sleeping on mats anymore, the arguing between the princesses quickly dampened her joy.

Margaret had told the maid who'd brought the pillow to leave it in her room. Of course Elizabeth had interjected, snatching the pillow from the maid with her mouth and started walking with it back towards her own room. Margaret's cries of protest had gone unanswered so she grabbed the pillow with her telekinesis, dug her heels in and started talking forcefully to her sister. Elizabeth responded with her own telekinesis and equally forceful words.

Megan could see a quarrel was about to start, but this time, she could not figure out what to do. The argument was over which room she'd sleep in, and that wasn't something she could solve by performing a silly little trick. She thought maybe she could alternate between the two each night, but that would bring her to the next logical argument of who'd go first? Meanwhile, the two princesses were straining over the pillow. Elizabeth's telekinesis was more powerful, but Margaret refused to let go, which resulted in her being dragged towards the door as she stubbornly held on.

Something slammed down on the floor, hard, and all turned to see a unicorn standing before Margaret's open door. It was a unicorn stallion, with a white coat and comically long beard of the same colour. He was wearing a dark blue pointed magician's cap with bells on the rim and top, along with a dark blue cloak with bells on the hem. Both the cloak and the hat were adorned with images of the moon and stars.

This new unicorn abruptly spoke with a firm but gentle authoritative tone. Whatever was said put the fear of God into the two princesses as they dropped the cushion and cowered slightly before him. He cocked his head to one side and asked a short question. Both princesses spoke at once, each blaming the other for causing the argument. The stallion rolled his eyes and began speaking to the two princesses calmly, first pointing from one to the other and back again. When he concluded his speech with a suggestive tone, they looked at each other, and then turning back to the white stallion, nodded.

He then produced a coin from within his robe using his telekinesis and asked another question. Both princesses spoke at once, and he tossed it into the air. The coin spun and hit the rug on the floor. All looked at the coin, and Margaret leapt into the air, cheering as her little wings blurred. Elizabeth just turned away and sulked. The white stallion walked up to Elizabeth and put a hoof around her shoulder, speaking calmly to her. She gave a hint of a smile but still wasn't happy with the outcome.

Margaret grabbed Megan's cushion and started dragging it across the room to lay it on the right side of her own bed. So, she was spending the night in Margaret's room first. Or whatever the arrangement the bearded one cooked up. When Megan turned back to see if Elizabeth was taking her lose with grace, she saw that the unicorn stallion was eying her with interest. He walked up to Megan, and slowly circled her, before standing directly in front of her.

{Me-gan?} he asked. She smiled, making sure not to show her teeth. One eyebrow rose slightly. He turned to the princesses and asked a question. They immediately launched into rapid-fire talk about her, using very expressive gestures, like trying to imitate her gittern playing or her bi-pedal movements. Megan began to notice something different about this unicorn as he listened. All others, the princesses, had talked to about her, had reacted to the information like one would to the tricks a dog could perform. This unicorn stallion was listening with genuine interest.

When the princesses finished, he turned back towards Megan with a look of wonder, before he then did something weird. For close to half a minute, he just stood before her with a look of absolute concentration on his face. She even saw a bead of sweat trickle down the left side of his face. Finally, he lowered head down to his cloak, and his horn glowed as something was levitated out from the depths within: a strange looking oval shaped stone. At first Megan was confused, until she saw the jewel in its centre. He pointed it at her, and thanks to the ruby, it gave a slight glow.

While all who'd seen it do that, just dismissed any doubts about Megan they might have, the same couldn't be said for the bearded one. For a hesitant second, Megan was able to see the perplexed look on his face. He shook it hard, before aiming it at her again, only to receive the same result. He looked up at Megan, his head tilted in thought. Margaret came up beside him and asked a question, breaking the white unicorn out from his trance. He turned to blink down at the little filly, before giving her a reassuring pat on the head. Margaret did not seem convinced by what the unicorn had said, and moved to hug Megan, before asking him something in a slow voice. Even Elizabeth looked a little worried.

The white unicorn blinked in surprise, as if caught off-guard by the response and quickly moved to reassure Margaret that whatever she asked, the answer was no. To emphasise the point, he also gave Megan's arm a reassuring pat, speaking genial words of reassurance to her. Megan's hand was now over the heart on her overalls where the ruby still lay hidden. She was beginning to understand it now, that this guy had not been fooled by the ruby trick. Well, not exactly, for he'd be genuinely confused by the reaction of the jewelled rock, almost as if i s answer was a contradiction rather than an explanation.

He asked something of the two princesses, and they both nodded happily. Elizabeth quickly ran outside and returned with Megan's gittern, handing it to her. Megan noticed that the stallion watched with keen interest as Megan took the gittern from Elizabeth's telekinetic grasp. The aura that enveloped the musical instrument simply vanished the instant she touched it. If Elizabeth noticed she showed no sign. The stallion asked her something, to which she only replied with a confused stare.

Megan eyed the stallion nervously. He knew, somehow he knew she lacked the Mcguffin. However, she was also aware of the fact that he was confused about it. Just like she did not know what it was that she lacked, he wasn't aware of what it was that was wrong with her. No doubt, the entire mystery left him confused as all hell. She swallowed the nervousness building in her throat as she started to play her gittern.

All the servants who were still in the room stopped what they were doing and turned with an amazed expression towards her, even the bearded one seemed to forget about her contradictions momentarily. She played a guitar version of The Last Waltz as more of the castle servants began to gather outside the door, looking within. They seemed hypnotised by the cords, while the white unicorn stared with reverence at her fingers. The princesses sat back on their hindquarters, their eyes darting all around the room with smug expressions on their faces.

As always, Megan tuned out everything around here as she played, losing herself within the music. For a brief moment in time, she was home, playing for her family, or TJ. She wasn't a pet to winged unicorn princesses, or having her life in danger because of something she did not understand. She finished up the last cords and sighed as she had to return to reality.

The stomping of hooves and cheering caught her by surprise. Megan blinked and looked up to see castle staff applauding her song, even the white unicorn looked impressed. In fact, he seemed to have completely forgotten his previous fascination with Megan. As cries for what could only be an encore filled the room, a unicorn mare, who'd been directing the staff, suddenly remembered that they all had a job to do and started barking at everyone who abruptly found someplace else to be.

The unicorn stallion had left not long after that, but not before casting one last unreadable glance towards Megan. She was getting confused vibes from that guy. On the one hand, he seemed to know her secret, but also seemed confused by it, and on the other, it did not seem like he was going to spill the beans. What had Margaret said that seemed to make her afraid for Megan? The stallion had assured both princesses of something that made them relax, but was that a reliable guarantee that she was safe? And if so, for how long?

Both princesses were watching her with their big, adorable eyes, and she knelt down before them to scratch them behind their ears, something they always enjoyed. She felt some of her anxiety melt as they leaned into her fingers, sighing happily.

It was then, that another, more dangerous thought ran through her mind. Could she trust them with her secret? They did care about her, they loved her, and, by all indication of the conversation between them and the white unicorn, didn't want anything bad to happen to her. Could she let them know she wasn't a smart animal but an intelligent creature? If they accepted her, would they then help her to speak their language?

She thought about it for the rest of the day. After the unpacking was completed, Megan decided to let Elizabeth pick the game they should play, considering she lost the coin toss. They played a game of hide-and-seek around the floor that their rooms resided on. Megan was able to find the two fillies rather easily, because they kept getting the servants to hide them, and whenever Megan would approach them, they would be very stoic and ridged, giving away the fact that they were hiding one of the two fillies. In the space of a day, Megan had come to see everyone behaved like that around them.

When she did find them, she would always tickle their stomachs, which she knew were very sensitive, making both of them roar with laughter as they struggled and squirmed under her fingers. The servants would even give a ghost of a smile at seeing the princesses having fun.

As the day began to draw to a close, Margaret began to grow more excited, and Megan could not quite understand why. As the sun sank lower in the sky towards the west, she had taken Megan out onto the balcony of her room to show her facing the east. Elizabeth had joined them, but she hung back, giving her sister the spotlight for once. This was very unusual behaviour from her, considering she always had to be number one. Margaret led Megan over to the balcony edge and pointed off to the east.

Following her hoof, Megan saw that she was pointing towards a large, domed temple that was crowned by a diamond shaped symbol. It was a series of star patterns that reminded her of the Southern Cross constellation. Megan blinked, and realised that she'd seen it on those two different robed unicorns at the Sky port. Before the temple, was a raised plaza with a row of horns on which a large gathering of robed unicorns now stood. These wore the sapphire blue robe and all of them stood in a perfect square shape, their heads lifted high and aimed towards the large crowd that had gathered before them.

Behind them was a strange symbol atop a large pole. It was a sideways crescent moon ringed with what looked like the shining rays of a rising sun. The front row of the robed unicorns walked forth and blew triumphantly on the horns. The crowd before them began to hush, as the horn blowers finished their call, and satisfied that they had everyone's attention, stood back into the square formation with their comrades.

Margaret's excitement grew and she kept pointing towards the robed unicorns. Examining their robes, it suddenly dawned on her that they were the same colour as Margaret's fur coat. Just as she came to this understanding, the robed unicorns all raised their heads high as one, their horns glowing brightly. Megan watched them with fascination, until Margaret's cries diverted her attention towards the horizon behind them.

What she saw made her jaw drop. The moon was rising. Fast! Behind her, she could see the last rays of sunlight fading, in sync with the rising moon. The robed unicorns' horns continued to glow as the moon rose above, and settled not too far from the tops of the hills in the distance. The robed unicorns' horns ceased their glowing and lowered their heads in a bow towards the crowd, which exploded into rapturous applauding. Margaret also joined in, bouncing up and down, her wings blurring, before she ceased and grabbed Megan's attention.

She pointed at the moon, then to herself, before pointing at the robed unicorns, and then herself again, all the wild chattering like a hyperactive chipmunk. Megan was too dumbfounded to even notice when she pointed at the picture on her flank. Her mind was too busy trying to digest what she'd just seen. Those unicorns had just used their psychic powers to raise the moon!

The freak'n moon! Jesus H. Christ, who were these unicorns? No wonder the unicorns were top-dogs on this world. Who the hell could mess with creatures who had the psychic ability to raise the moon? Her eyes left the robed unicorns to scan the crowd below them. Were all unicorns this powerful? And if so, why would she be a threat to them? Was this the mysterious Mcguffin that she lacked? Psychic powers? Why would they kill her if she did not have it?

She looked back down at Margaret, who was still explaining away something to do with that picture on her flank. She needed answers, and fast. If that white bearded unicorn were smart enough to twig onto the fact she wasn't all she seemed to be, others would not be too far behind. For the most part, that stallion seemed willing to let the subject lie, but for how long? She was walking a knife's edge at the moment, and she needed a plan. But before she could have one, she needed to know the language, so she could find out just what it was that would make her such a threat to creatures who seemed more powerful than the entire human race.

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Chapter 5

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Chapter 6

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Chapter 1

The sky was growing darker. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Megan Williams looked over the farm with considerable satisfaction, as she idly ran her fingers across the strings of the guitar that rested in her lap. The book she'd been reading at the start of the day, H.G. Wells 'The Time Machine,' lay next to her, its bookmark inviting her to pick up where she'd last left off. She was nearing the end of the book and she thought that the whole story was nothing more than a socialist tract about the divisions between capital and labour. Professor Carlton had given it to her when he'd first arrived on the farm, after telling him that she had a passion for history. Why he thought she'd be interested in a novel about time travel from a love of history, which incidentally had nothing to do with history, was something she didn't, nor care to understand. In her biased opinion, Professor Carlton was a few waves short of a shipwreck. She sighed incredulously. Is that what made people like him geniuses?

Turning away from the book, she looked out over the grassy plains once more. A good hard day's work was spent getting the animals into the barn and battening down the hatches. Taruo the bull had proven mighty stubborn in getting back into the barn. However, Megan proved that she could be even more stubborn than he, and with much effort, she'd gotten him inside, and locked up. Now with all the hard work completed, her parents and siblings could sit back and enjoy the storm that would bring the welcoming rains.

She wore a rust coloured vest over an orange flannel shirt. Her faded light blue jeans had seen better days, along with her dark brown cowboy boots. The wind was beginning to pick up and now played havoc with her long, blond hair. Although tied back in a ponytail with a red bow, it still danced about whenever the wind picked up.

She was twenty-two now and becoming more beautiful by the day. Her mother had questioned her why she hadn't found a nice boy from the town yet, but she had responded that her career was her priority at the moment. She was more interested in pursuing her intention to one day take over the farm from her father, and wasn't interested in a man.

She played no song in particular, just randomly strumming notes, and humming along with the sounds they made. She leaned back further into her chair, rocking it back onto its back legs as she put her feet up on the porch railings for support. She paused for a few seconds, staring out at the encroaching weather, before launching into a song.

“I saw you standing in the middle of the thunder and lightning,” she started singing, her fingers plucking the strings in a soft melody. “I know you're feeling like you just can't win, but you're trying.”

“Megan?” Her mother's voice cut through the air, causing her fingers to slip from their strings. “Are you busy?”

“It's hard to keep on keepin' on, when you're being pushed around,” Megan sang much loudly. The front door opened and her mother came out onto the front porch, a large dark blue cooler bag in her arms.

“I need you to deliver this to your father over by the valley,” she said, her eyes rolling at the choice of lyrics Megan was singing. “I also packed some extra sandwiches for the nice university people, as well. Also, tell your father to use the emergency phone we have in the shed out there. It has an underground line, and I don't want him to use the radio during a storm.” She paused. “Did you get all that.”

Megan abruptly switched songs. “I hear you knocking; but you can't come in,” she sang. “I hear you knocking; go back where you've been.”

Not to be outdone, her mother shoved the cooler into her lap all of a sudden, and started singing herself. “Hit the road Jack, and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more!”
Megan grinned, and started playing the song on her guitar. “Whoa Woman; oh woman; don't treat me so mean; you're the meanest old woman that I've ever seen. I guess if you say so; I'm gonna have to pack mah things and go.”

She then placed the guitar down and picking up the cooler bag, rose to her feet, letting the chair plunk back down on all fours. “Don't take too long,” her mother warned, delivering a kiss to her cheek. “I don't want you caught out in this foul weather.”

“I won't, momma,” she said she started down the steps and began jogging towards the shed not too far away from the house. “Just deliver the cooler bag and come straight back.” Her mother nodded approvingly, and Megan waved good-bye, before sprinting towards the shed. Sliding open the large metal doors revealed the inside of the shed, containing the family range rover, pick-up truck, and the three motor-bikes. Normally she would take her horse, TJ on such an adventure, but not this time. Still, she had to leave quickly if she were to take the bike. If TJ knew he was missing out on a ride across the farm, the haughty little stallion would be miffed.

She smiled at that, grabbing the keys off the rack as she hurried over to her personal bike, the battered old blue and white Suzuki Trojan. TJ always seemed more human than most humans she'd met. He was smarter than most people gave him credit for, and Megan found herself trying to placate him almost all of the time, whenever he felt like he was being ignored. Still, Megan loved him. She chuckled at the memory of being a young girl, telling her parents that she wanted a unicorn. TJ was no unicorn, and in spite of his behaviour, he had a special place in her heart. As her mother always told her, after watching him steadfastly refusing to let her younger brother Danny ride him, 'Only you could love that horse.'

Securing the cooler back to the back of the bike, she chuckled to herself as she pulled on her helmet, and tightened the chin strap. She'd have to be quick in leaving, so as not to let TJ discover he'd been hoodwinked. She mounted the bike and started up the engine. After a few sputtering coughs, it roared to life. Megan revved the handle bars, once, twice, and then kicking up the stand, took off out of the shed.

Her vest flapped in the wind as she sped around to the left of the house, and towards the dirt road that lead to the far south of the family farm. As she hit the dirt road, she turned to give a quick glance over her shoulder at the barn, and cursed. TJ was at the barn door, his head looking out; no doubt he'd have heard the sound of the motorbike. He was always getting out of his stall, and to this day, neither Megan nor anyone else in the whole family, had yet to figure out how. His head was cocked on an angle and looking in her direction, and was it her imagination or had his eyes been narrowed? Almost as if he were saying, 'Where do you think you're going without me?'

She sighed as she turned back to the road. He'd be giving her the cold shoulder when she'd come to see him next. The old Trojan wasn't just battered from the numerous times she'd stacked it during her more rambunctious days. One day, while she'd been washing the bike, she accidently forgot to put it away in the shed. TJ, who'd been wandering around the house, saw it and immediately kicked it over. He hated the bike. At first, the family thought he hated the noise it made, but it clearly became evident that he was jealous of Megan riding it, instead of him.
Her long ponytail fluttered out behind her as she crouched down, and put on a little more speed. Subconsciously, she reached back behind her with one hand to confirm that, yes, the cooler bag was still there.

Further up ahead, the road branched off, and she took the shortcut to the valley: the old hiking trail through the forest. The forest grew thick around her, as she rode on, turning sharp corners, and nearly losing control. Tree branches scraped at her ribbon and vest, threatening to tear them off.

Then, with a burst of light, she broke out of the entangled forest and shot out into an open grassy plain. All around her, the tall grass swayed and bent, in some arcane dance that looked just as eerie as the strange blue lightning that crackled in the dark black storm clouds high above. She frowned at the sight of that. She hadn't seen that from the porch.

So this is why the university team wanted to set up shop on her family farm. A few days ago, some University Professor had rang up, requesting permission to bring his class out onto the farm to record and catalogue a series of strange weather phenomenon that had been witnessed across the state.

Her father had naturally agreed, but also tagged along, just to make sure that whatever was going on up in the clouds, it wouldn’t be harmful to the farm. Sadly, the family insurance plan didn't cover strange lighting storms. She found herself petting the iPhone in her left breast pocket. Hopefully, that lightning wouldn't affect that. She'd hate to have it fried. She'd already had to replace one damaged phone, and she couldn't afford to replace another. Her fingers tightened on the handlebars as she increased her speed. She had a sudden urge to get back home ASAP.
Cresting a hill, she had to slow down, as the bike began to weave its way down a set of winding narrow tracks with tight turns. However, it wasn't long before she spotted the familiar outlines of the storage shed poking above the tree tops.

Passing over the ever faithful wooden bridge, she rounded a corner and spotted the university team. There bright orange tents stood out against the dark green on the grass and bushes. Her father was instantaneously recognisable by the way he dressed. He was standing next to a much younger man with short red hair and a goatee, wearing khaki shorts that had once been long pants, mud covered hiking-boots and a light blue T-shirt with a picture of all four Ghostbusters, their backs to the viewers as they stood before urinals. The legend underneath read, “Don't Cross the Streams.” She recognised him as the University Professor.

She chuckled as she brought the bike to a halt. Both men turned around to see her cut the engine and kick down the stand. “Hey Megan,” her father greeted her with a concerned look upon his features. “What are you doing out here?”

“Mom,” she answered, unstrapping the cooler bag from the Suzuki's back. She carried the bag over to her dad and handed it over. “She also wanted me to tell you to use the shed phone, not the radio.” Her father casually looked over his shoulder at the shed, before turning back to give the antennae on his Ute a worrisome glance. He clicked his tongue against his teeth in thought before turning back to his daughter.

“Mmmm,” he said as he opened the bag. “What has your lovely mother made me?”

“She says that there are some sandwiches in there for the others,” Megan answered, removing her helmet. “So don't eat it all.” Her father returned the jibe with a mock hurt expression. She returned it with a half smile, before turning to the man beside her father. “Hello Professor Carlton.”

Professor Edward Carlton smiled back. “Megan,” he answered. “Are you going to stay and watch the show?” He turned to glance up at the ever darkening sky, which was occasionally broken by the flashes of blue lightning. “Our instruments tell me we're in for a once in a lifetime display.” He turned back to hear her response.

“Sorry,” Megan replied with a shake of her head, “But Mom wants me to head home right after I delivered your food, and told Dad to use the emergency phone.” She gave a half-hearted shrug and repeated, “Sorry.”

“Your loss,” he answered. He opened his mouth to say something else when an almighty flash light up the sky, flowed just as quickly by a clap of thunder that made a few students jump. His words were lost to the sound. He cut himself off, not bothering to finish, nor clarify what he'd been saying, and turned to look back up at the sky. “Did somebody get that?” he cried out. “Please somebody tell...”

“Here!” a female voice called out. Professor Carlton quickly vanished.

Megan turned to her father who was frowning up at the sky. “Dad?” she said, drawing his attention back to her. “I'm going to head back now, take care.” He nodded.

“You too,” he replied, before turning his worried eyes back to the skies. Megan smiled as she put her helmet back on. Her Dad wasn't going to sweat over her safety. He knew that she was more than capable of looking after herself. He wouldn't have to worry about his daughter going home in this mess of a weather system. No, he was worried about what this mess of a weather system would do to his farm.

That's what Megan loved about him. Granddad had always insisted that her younger brother, Danny should inherit the farm. However, her brother had been more interested in sports rather than agriculture. Although he'd never outright said it, he was disproving of Megan following in her father's footsteps. Her father had wanted his kids to do whatever they wanted, and always encouraged them to explore the things that interested them.

He knew that he could trust her to do the right thing, and she loved him dearly for it.
She swung her leg over the Suzuki and started the engine. She didn't bother with any theatrics and instead took off back towards the farmhouse. Thunder rumbled ominously behind her as she sped down the dirt track. As she worked her way back up the winding road, she couldn't help but glance back at the clouds.

They were now situated directly above her, covering the whole sky and blocking out the sun. She nervously glanced back to where her father was and whispered a silent prey. “Stay safe Dad,” she muttered, as she exited the forest and onto the grassy plains.

High above her, the clouds shone down with an eerie glow, making the grass seem to shine with a light of its own. Lighting lit up the night sky, and the thunderclap that followed made Megan jump, and she nearly lost control of the Suzuki. She eased back on the accelerator a fraction, just as the motorbike careened over a slightly raised section of the dirt road, sending the vehicle into the air for a split second, before bouncing back down on the road with a shuddering jolt.

In order to calm her nerves, Megan started doing what she used to do as a little girl. She started to sing. Well, just mumble the words. “Can you handle the curves? Can you run all the lights? If you can, baby boy, then we can go all night,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “'Cause it's zero to sixty in three point five, Baby, you got the keys... Now shut up and drive, drive, drive, Shut up and drive, drive, drive.”

As she neared the forest and the narrow hiker's trail, she flicked the switch that activated the bike's headlamp, just as she plunged into the thick green foliage. The trees grew thick around her, somehow more than before. Megan was forced to slow down as branches and leaves were now scraping her limbs, and slapping her helmet.

She began to notice that the forest was getting darker. All sounds seemed to diminish, as it someone was slowly turning down the volume. Her bike also seemed to be moving faster. She knew it wasn't possible, but it felt like she was speeding up. She eased back on the throttle again, but she still felt like she was gaining speed.

All around her, whatever natural light there was appeared to be fading. Daring to take quick glances off the road before her, she saw that she couldn't make out the trees or the bushes. Everything seemed to be pitch-black, interrupted with shades of blue, grey.

All of a sudden, the foliage exploded into empty air as she exited the trail. Megan let out a scream of surprise as she saw that she was right in the path of a gigantic tree. She pulled hard left, and zoomed around it. Only to find herself speeding right into another. She pulled hard right, and just managed to miss it, the back tyre clipping against a root causing the whole rear of the Suzuki to jump.

As the rear tyre returned to earth, it landed in, something, she couldn't tell what, but it caused the back to spin out. Megan swung the handlebars in a desperate attempt to keep the bike stable. It worked.

For about one second.

The rear swung back the other way, and with a flash of horror, Megan realised she couldn't stop it. The back tyre swung outwards all the way until it connected with something hard, and Megan was catapulted into the air. She pinwheeled until she felt the soft grass hit her right side.

Megan rolled and rolled, until she felt her body slow down and cease its movement altogether. For what felt like minutes, she lay there, looking up at the sky above. The sky was blocked out by the forest canopy high above. Sighing heavily, she gingerly tested her limbs. Although there was pain, nothing felt like it was broken. She groggily sat up, and slowly removed her helmet, before looking around.

There were trees all around her. This made her frown. Where was the road? She should have exited the hiking trail and come out onto the dirt track. But it was nowhere to be seen. Where was it? She steadily rose to her feet and looked around. Lightning flashed high above, casting a strobe effect down through the tree canopy. Trees were everywhere. Bushes grew in clumps, but no road.

Scanning the ground, she located a dim light, shining from the grass. Her bike. Her legs felt bruised and she managed a hobble of sorts. High above, lightning flashed down through the canopy, drawing Megan's attention skyward.

She saw a dark, bird shaped blur shoot across. She paused, looking in the direction it had gone, but saw nothing. Cautiously, she continued back to her bike. She spun at the sound of fluttering wings. That sounded awfully close. Looking high above, she spotted nothing.

Turning back, she started towards the bike, but instantaneously froze. Something was standing before her bike. It had four legs, a bulky frame and large. Her eyes narrowed. A wolf. Damn. If only she had a weapon of sorts. Slowly, her hand reached towards her breast pocket. Maybe if she played some loud music from her phone, that would scare the…

Her whole body tensed as its head shot up and looked in her direction. Its glowing eyes chilled her to the bone, but Megan refused to give into panic. All she had to do was keep calm, and she'd be okay.

What happened next caught her completely off guard. The wolf raised its head up, and spread its wings. Megan couldn't help it and gave a short gasp. The head tilted slightly. Then, the forest was lit up as lightning flashed down through the trees.

It wasn't a wolf.

It was a griffin. Megan found her limbs wouldn't even move. She'd been prepared for anything but this. A real live griffin. No joke, it had a lion's body, with the head, wings and forelegs of an eagle. Oh, but that wasn't the only thing that was odd about it. Around its breast area, and long its upper torso, it wore some kind of leather armour. The only comforting bit of information was that it wasn't as big as she thought it might be, coming up only to her waist in height.

Its head jerked back slightly as it got a good look at her. Surprise so caught her that she didn't notice when the helmet slipped from her fingers to hit the ground. The griffin seemed caught off guard by this and raised one of its forepaws. Megan barely had time to notice there was something bulky around its wrist, before it gave the said appendage a quick flick, and there was a metallic clicking sound, accompanied by sliding metal.

Now, Megan saw two metal prongs projecting from griffin's paw. Her eyes went wide in terror. Although Megan had been a strong girl, she was used to dangers. Natural disasters, Wolves, muggers armed with knives, hell even guns. What life had not prepared her for was facing down griffins with predator claws. She gave a startled cry and fled.

Megan ran. She had no idea where too, but she just had to get away from that griffin. She cursed herself under her breath for running. Everyone knew, when facing wild, possibly dangerous animals, never run. Back away slowly. However, coming face to face with an amour wearing griffin with metal claws would cause anyone to panic, and as the boys in Vietnam used to say, 'When you're up to your ass in alligators, it's difficult to remember that you were supposed to drain the swamp.'

Something stung her at the back of the neck, and her hand went to her neck. Something small and hard was lodged there, and she dared a quick look back over her shoulder. She did a double take, the thing in her neck forgotten. She saw not only the griffin, still standing by her bike, watching her as she fled, but next to it, stood two more griffins; both almost seemed to be as weary of her as she of them. One of the griffins was holding a long pipe, which it was in the process of lowering from its beak. She frowned at this. Why would they do that? Unfortunately, Megan forgot another important rule. When running away from danger, always keep an eye on where you're going.

She cried out as her foot snagged on a root of one of the trees and started falling down a hill. She bounced and rolled down, sending leaves, rocks and sticks flying everywhere. It wasn't long before she stopped, bouncing off a big boulder in a clearing of some sort before she fell to the ground with an audible thud that seemed to echo all around. She got up a bit dizzy from the tumble, rubbing her head where she hit a large rock. “Ouch,” she groaned through gritted teeth.

After her head felt better she carefully sat down against the bolder and tested her limbs, thankfully, nothing was broken. But as she lay back, the bolder shook rapidly. Megan leapt to her feet, alert and ready for whatever she may have to encounter. Had the griffin followed her? What she saw was the last thing she was prepared for. A long serpent neck slides out from the unravelling ball that was the boulder? No, it wasn't a bolder, it was a Dragon.

A freak'n dragon.

It'd been curled up and sleeping, well 'was' sleeping. Megan just stood there, her jaw hanging loose as though every tendon had been cut, looking up at the towering figure above her. Standing before her, the Dragon stretched its giant body and flapped its wing briefly. The dragon before her had to be at least 50 feet tall, and she could not even guess how long he was with that tail coming out of his rear. He had eyes resembling any reptiles, and a medium sized snout. His hide was a dark red colour, and his underbelly was a bright yellow... just as she imagined a Dragon would look. It shook its great head and stared down at Megan. It was deathly still for solid half minute.

Megan didn't know what to make of it. First the griffin, now this dragon. For a time, both just looked the other over in curiosity. It was apparent to Megan that neither dragon nor the griffin had ever seen a human before, which caused the young woman to lose some of her fear. Megan didn't know what to make of it. How could they not know anything about humans? There were over six billion of them. The look in the dragon's eyes was undeniably human, and inexplicably cautious. As if the giant reptile was expecting Megan to suddenly shoot laser beams from her eyes.

The thought of that made her giggle slightly, and at the sound of her voice, the head jerked back a fraction. At this, Megan smiled. It was weary of her. Before this day, the largest reptile she had ever seen was a lizard the size of her finger crawling up her bedroom wall. It was a different experience for her to be the tiny one. It was also another experience to be smaller than a creature that could gobble you up in one bite, but know that it was treating you like a poisonous enemy.

She was about to slowly back away, when the Dragon lowered its head toward her and sniffed. Megan took a big step back, not exactly afraid of the Dragon, but still being very cautious. She knew she could not run. The monster looked like it could catch her even if she had a mile head start. And hiding was now out of the question, since she was the focus of its full attention with no possible hiding places close by.

Megan wasn't sure what to do, but it was immediately clear to her any sudden movement on her behalf could antagonise the dragon. Slowly, she took a step back. Then another. The dragon's head inched forward, keeping a fair distance away, but close enough to keep smelling her. All of a sudden, the beast licked its lips just two feet away from her face.

Megan froze.

Her whole body went stiff with fear. Slowly, the dragon rose, towering high above her. Megan wanted to scream. To run, but her body just wouldn't obey. The Dragon reached out with its left front foreleg and grabbed at her without warning, effortlessly lifting her off the ground. It was as though she were nothing but a doll to the great beast.

Now she screamed.

She struggled in its grasp, but it was like trying to pry apart a vice. The dragon continued to rise, sitting back on its haunches. It raised Megan upwards, and in sync with this movement, its great head lowered towards her. The dragon's mouth was wide open and thick streams of drool were oozing downward from almost every spot and angle. A horribly hot air blew past her from the back of the dragon's mouth, and she was frozen in absolute terror.

Megan's screaming cut off in a petrified squeak as the jaws closed around her upper torso. To both her surprise and relief, she didn't feel the teeth penetrate her flesh. No, it was as if they were only holding her in place. She felt the clawed hand that gripped her release, allowing her legs to kick freely at the open air.

She felt the dragon's muzzle rise, then tilt backwards. She was now looking down into its throat. The tongue was a darker pink and everything looked as soft as Jell-O and even slimier than she imagined it would be. Surrounding her on either side where the razor sharp teeth, and in the back, beyond the tongue, lay a dark, almost red throat that constantly pulsed with movement. Megan felt tears streaming down her face. She couldn't believe what was happening. She was about to be eaten by a dragon. A creature of myth. She felt the dragon gave its head a quick flick, and she was tossed completely into its mouth.

Megan screamed again in terror, only to be cut off as the world around her violently jerked sideways. She had no idea what was going on. One second she was in the dragon's mouth. The next, she was cart wheeling through the air.

She hit the ground, hard. Before she could even contemplate what had just happened, something crashed down dangerously close to her. Turning her head towards the source of the commotion, she saw the dragon, lying on its side, a spear jutting from one of its eyes. Her thoughts were jumbled. What...?

A loud banshee like shriek pierced the air, and she looked up, just in time to see a griffin dive bomb the dragon. It shot past the beast's neck, and Megan just managed to glimpse a flash of metal, before blood showered everywhere. Including over her. Megan quickly scrambled away as the dragon writhed and thrashed, its bellows clearly telling of its agony.

She turned to the sky as more cries filled the air. There must have been twenty griffins. All of them armed with weapons of some kinds. She saw spears, longbows, crossbows, battle axes, gladius swords, katar daggers, slings, and even one was sporting a horseman's pick. With a battle cry, the group split in two and dived on the dragon from both sides, while those with projectile weapons started firing them at the dragon's one remaining eye.

The dragon never stood a chance. It was too busy trying to stem the bleeding from its neck, and too busy fending off the arrows and rocks directed at its eyes to properly defend itself. The griffins with hand weapons landed on both sides of its wings and tore into it. The dragon screamed and rolled over. The griffins on the right side instantly shot up, but one wasn't fast enough and was crushed without a sound.

Still rolling with the momentum, the Dragon lifted its snout high and opening its mighty jaws, spat out a jet of flame at the griffins shooting at its good eye. The sky griffins scattered, but not before two of their number tumbled from the sky, nothing more than fire balls. However, it had made a mistake. The dragon wasn't capable of tackling multiple attacks at once, and rolling over, had left its belly exposed. The group that had evacuated its position then dived on the now exposed underbelly. The dragon's body hid what happened there, as all that could be heard was the sound of flesh tearing, and the Dragon's screams echoed all around, causing Megan to clamp her hands over her ears.

It was then, that Megan realised something she should've realised earlier. She could escape. Without a moment's hesitation, she was up and sprinting across the clearing. Ahead of her, lay the rest of the forest. Trees clumped tightly together and bushes obscuring the ground. That's exactly where Megan wanted to be.

She cleared the distance between the battle and the foliage in the time an Olympic sprinter might have envied. Not even looking to see what was ahead of her, she dove head first into the bushes and rolled into a supine position. Listening to the sounds around her, she could still make out the battle between the griffins and the dragon. Only now, the dragon's cries sounded weaker. The important fact she discovered, and what she had hoped for, was that no one was coming after her.

Blinking once, she rose to her feet and took off into the trees. She could hear the sounds of battle behind her, but none of those sounds followed her. No arrows whizzed past her head. No beating of wings, feathery or -- thank Christ -- leathery, perused her. The branches and leaves scrapped at her arms and face, they tore at her clothing, slowing her down, but she kept on running.
The commotions behind her faded into the ambient noises of the forest around her. Only then did she slow her pace from a mad dash to a brisk jog. Finally, she stopped, as she leaned against a tree to catch her breath. The back of her neck was aching.

“What... In the name of Zeus’s Butt-hole... was all that!?” No one answered her.

She looked around. She was now in a more sparsely populated area of the forest. Looking up, she could see the sky. Dark black clouds blotted out the night sky, broken by the constant flashes of lightning from within. She rested her back against the tree and slid down into a seated position. Where the hell was she!? Looking around at the forest, she couldn't help wonder what part of the farm was this? She paused. More importantly, where the hell did those griffins and that dragon come from? She abruptly sat up in shock.

“Dad!” She was now on her feet, looking around frantically. Her hand was fishing the iPhone from her pocket. She could call home, and get Mom to call Dad and…

No signal.

She let loose an almighty profanity. She lifted her phone as high as she could. Still nothing. Swearing again, she deposited it back into her pocket, and began looking around. Off to her right, the tree's began to disperse. Perhaps in that direction, the forest ended, and she could get a clear signal. She started jogging, ignoring the spreading pain from her neck. She'd have to be quick. If there were suddenly dragons and griffins about, who knew what else lurked out there now.

As she hurried along, she kept glancing up at the sky. The lightning crackled and flashed, accompanied by the rumble of thunder. Was this what that weird weather had done? Brought dragons and griffins into the world? Her eyebrow went up in thought. Maybe if they caught one, they could be rich.

No way was she going to do that. Griffins travelled in packs, and dragons were too dangerous for her to tackle by herself. Besides, those griffins had technically saved her life. She subconsciously yawned, and began to slow her pace. Boy, was she tired all of a sudden! Her jogging became a slow trot.

Why was she so tired all of a sudden? She stopped jogging and glided over to a nearby tree, resting her back against it. But she couldn't sleep. She had to call Mom. She had to warn Dad. Why did her neck hurt so much?

Finally, she raised a hand, rubbed at the back of her neck, and she felt something. A small stick stuck back there. Pulling at it, her hand came back with a small feathered dart clasped in her fingers. Scenes she'd remembered came back to her. Briefly.

The rest of her thoughts were incoherent as she faded off into a deep sleep.

***

Megan's eyes snapped open. Daylight was streaming down through the trees. She groggily yawned, as she rubbed the back of her neck. She had slept the night away in a forest? Why? What was she doing out here? Just then, like releasing the floodgates, the events of yesterday came rushing back to her. She gasped, and quickly shot to her feet.

The storm. The griffins. The dragon. The battle.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. She whipped out her phone. Still no reception. Looking around, she wondered where on earth she was. Was she still on her property? Was she on someone else's? She had never been to this part of the farm before? Come to think about it, she did not even know if there was anything like this area around.

She started walking in a direction away from the area where she had encountered the dragon. Damn, her limbs were stiff. After a few disjointed movements, she managed to cease her deranged puppet imitation and started a brisk pace.

Then she stopped as other events from last night caught up with her. The dart. She had been shot by one of the griffins. The dart had drugged her. She looked back over to the tree she had been sleeping against. It had been late afternoon when she had gone to visit Dad and the University Team. Looking up at the sunny sky, it looked to be about mid-morning.

Wow, what the hell was in that dart? However, that thought were pushed from her mind, as looking up at the sky more closely, she realised it was completely different from what she was used to. The clouds were heavy, bunched together and had a battleship grey colour. The sky reminded her of her last trip to Scotland.

As she placed a hand on her chin in thought, she felt a dried, almost sticky substance coating her face. Looking down at herself, she was covered in dried blood, which was now peeling off. Also, some unknown film-like substance that stank when she got a good whiff of it.

“Oh, good lord,” she muttered, scrunching up her nose in disgust. She cupped a hand to her ear and listened carefully. Birds chirped, leaves rustled in the breeze. “Ahh!” Not far off to the left, she could make out a distant gurgling sound. “Bing-Go.” She started off in the direction of the sounds.

As she approached the sounds, the forest began to grow thicker around her. The plants and bushes were dense on all sides, some of the leaves were still slick from dew. Megan pushed forward, shoving branches and leaves aside as she attempted to see what little she could make out in front of her. The gurgling sounds were growing louder, more distinct now.

Finally, her arm pushed through the foliage and into empty air. She pulled aside the leaves and stepped out of the forest and immediately felt her boots sink into the soft earth. She blinked a few times at the sudden rush of light and saw the sparkling blue currents of a river, barely ten feet wide.

The way the sunlight sparkled off the water just invited her to jump right in. Slowly, she eased herself down the embankment, taking care not to slip. Finally, she reached the water's edge, and crouching down, dipped her hand into the clear blue water. It was cool, but not cold. Looking up, some sun was making its way through the clouds and was warming the water. Turning her head to look up stream, she saw that the river seemed to be flowing down from up high. Maybe from some nearby hill.

Smiling, she reached up and removed her phone, setting it down on a rock, then pulling off her boots and removing the ribbon from her hair, she placed them down next to the phone, before wading into the cool water, till she was up to her knees. She paused, and then dived head first in. All sounds ceased as she was immersed under the cool blue water. She swam along the rocky, muddy bottom of the river, before kicking to the surface. She burst forth with a spray of water and flicked her hair back.

She drew her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face. Her clothes were thoroughly soaked now. Slipping slightly beneath the water, she began to remove her vest, then her shirt, finally her jeans. She then dunked them under the water and began scrubbing vigorously with her fingers, trying to get the blood and dried dragon spit off them. After a good eleven minutes of dunking and soaking, and scrubbing, she got a good chunk of the mess off her clothes. She swam back to her other stuff, and after wringing her clothes, she placed them on another rock, one that was strategically positioned under the rays of the sun. Flattening them out so that they would dry quicker, she guiltily looked around before removing her bra and underwear. She placed them next to her clothes, before heading back into the river.

Diving back in, she paddled out to the middle of the river before treading water and looking upstream. She gave a sad sigh. Should she really be doing this? Here she was, having a bath while there were griffins, who had drugged her, and dragons, who had tried to eat her, on the loose? Her family had to be warned. Hell, the National Guard had to be warned. She scowled. Then again, what could she do? She had no idea where she was she was out of communication range, and her only method of transportation was in a direction she had no intention of going in. She punched at the water in frustration.

“Come on, Megan,” she muttered. “You're a smart girl. Think!” She weighed her options. She could not go back the way she had come. But where could she go?

Go. Her eyes went wide as she looked down at herself. Or rather, at the surface of the river. The water was flowing down on a slope. She let her gaze travelled downstream. If she followed the river, maybe should could find some sign of civilisation and a way of communication. He gaze travelled back up stream. Then again, if she followed the river upstream, she could find the source of the river, which no doubt was coming from a hill. A hill meant some place high. Some place high meant she could get a bird's eye view of the surrounding area and find out where she was. That could give phone connection.

Excellent. Now she had two plans of attack. The only problem was which one to go on? She looked downstream and then upstream. Finally, she nodded. “Up stream,” she cried, pointing in that direction.

There was a griffin, sitting on one of the rocks further upstream calmly watching her. Megan's eyes went wide. Where the dickens did that come from? Slowly, she lowered her arm back into the water. The griffin was just sitting there, much like a dog, calmly watching her. “Change of plans,” she muttered, slowly backing away and towards her belongings. “Downstream.”

As she edged closer to the river bank, she took in the griffin watching her. It was rather majestic in the daylight, and she could make out its leather armour more clearly. It was highly embroidered with arcane symbols that looked like hieroglyphs. Its armour looked scratched and dented, and appeared to be stained with a dark paint that looked like it might have been red once. Around both its wrists were some kind of bulky looking gloves with a metal glint…

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. No. Freak'n. Way.

There was a rustling to her immediate left. She turned, just in time to see what looked like a spiders web fly right at her. Something with a rope-like feel to it hit her in the face and forced her back into the water with a surprised cry. More splashes sounded from both in front and behind her. She turned to see a giant eagle face snap at her. She screamed and staggered backwards, only to trip up in the rope net that entangled her and splash down into the river.

Once again, sounds were muted as she plunged beneath the surface of the river. She struggled in fright and thrashed about, trying to get the next off her. The more she struggled, the more it seemed to constrict around her. All of a sudden she was being pulled along the river bed, her head bounced and scraped along the muddy, rocky bottom. She momentarily ceased her struggling as a particular hard rock smack against her head.

Then she was on dry land. Loud incomprehensible and highly agitated squawking sounds filled the air as finger like claws grasped at her naked skin. She gasped in pain as one set scrapped along her back, and she kicked out in that direction. “Back off, you friggin chickens!” she shouted with all the authority she could muster. Her foot struck something fleshy, and there was a different squawking sound.

She cried out in pain as something heavy, with a wooden feel to it, slammed down on her attacking limb. More clawed hands were grasping at her now. She tried to strike her opponents again, but found the ropes pulling tighter around her. “No,” Megan cried out. “Let me go! Let me go!”

Then, just as quickly as it began, it all stopped. The claws were gone. Megan struggled once more, but her movements were restricted. The rope net was tight around her. She could move, but not by much. She paused in her thrashing so she could observe her surroundings. Five griffins were looming over her their looks were mixed. Curiosity, fear, disgust, wonder. Another griffin pushed its way through the crowd and glared down at her with an unreadable expression.

Megan returned the same stoic gaze. “Why are you doing this to me?” she snarled at it. The griffin cocked its head in thought, then turned as one of the other griffins began squawking at him in a concerned tone. The griffin scratched at his beak tip and then snapped something out loud.

One of the griffins, she could not see who, gave the lead griffin, she guessed he was the leader, a small oval shaped box with two open sides, revealing some sort of gemstone at its centre. It then aimed the device at her. Megan frowned. What the hell was that? The other griffins seemed to take an interest in what the device was doing. Nothing happened. The griffin then pointed it at the griffin next to him, and Megan saw a slight glow, coming from the gemstone. The leader pointed it back at Megan, and the glow vanished.

The leader withdrew the device and snapped out what had to be an order. The other griffins all reached for her. Megan braced herself, but was surprised when their claws all grabbed the ropes and not her. Then, they beat their wings and launched into the sky.

Megan gave a startled cry as she felt her whole body rise with the griffins. She curled in on herself as she rose higher and higher. First she could see the river below her, and then the tree tops. Looking down stream, she could see that she was in a valley of some kind. She could also see that they were flying upstream. Turning to look up stream, she gaped in shock.

Good God in the foothills. Mountains! They were flying towards mountains. Towering, snow capped dark grey mountains. Megan was unable to utter a single syllable. There were no mountains on, nor within the general vicinity of her farm. Where the devil was she? She could not have gone that far. Her mind flipped back to the storm, with the blue lighting.

No. There's no way it could have…

A cold wind blasted her, causing her to shiver violently. Good grief, how high up were they going? Although she could not see much except the forest canopy below her, she could hear n the distance sounds of thunder. As they flew further on, she began to realise that what she was hearing was the distant sound of a roaring waterfall. She craned her neck to try and get some kind of idea where they were going and saw that they had reached a mountain whose height vanished up into the grey mists of the clouds. Looking up at it gave Megan a bad case of vertigo.

A great waterfall streamed down from somewhere up in the clouds, in an endless cascade of water. Then she frowned. She could make out some kind of growth, or obstruction on and around the waterfall. As they drew closer, she saw that the growth was actually a village of sorts, built into and up the rocky slope of the mountain. Houses jutted out, connected with a web of rope bridges and platforms. Two water wheels had been constructed into the waterfall and were constantly turning their purpose unknown.

Here and there, griffins glided to and fro on their wings. Megan watched as one griffin banked hard towards a large semi-circle wooden platform and landed with practised ease. It then folded its wings up against its side as the landing morphed right into a trot. She noticed that none of the griffins seemed to be using the rope-bridge walkways that connected the houses together. Although a few did, most just simply flew. The houses themselves reminded her of bird houses, with platforms instead of perches. Some were small, and others quite large, with large doorways and platforms. Most likely the griffin equivalent of a building. In spite of the whole village's cobbled look, the houses were well made and looked quite sturdy.

Megan just stared at it in shock. There was no way, no way in hell that something like this could have snuck in under the radar of human society. This griffin village was just way too complex to be some kind of hidden elf village. She just stared blankly ahead, unable to make a sound as they drew closer. The puzzle pieces were all there, but she just couldn't, no, didn't want to put them together. The griffins. The dragon. No phone reception. The different terrain.

She wasn't on Earth anymore.

It was a titanic effort to hold back the tears, but she managed, though her bottom lip did tremble slightly with fear. If she wasn't on earth, then where was she? Another planet? Another reality? Her thoughts were derailed as the group flew lower, leaving the village behind. The base of the mountain wasn't too far below, and at the bottom, she could make out a set of wide, wooden stairs that connected the ground to the rest of the village, proceeding up the mountain in a zigzag pattern. At the base were a number of tents and... Megan's eyes went wider still.

The dragon. That damn dragon who tried to eat her the other day. It had been gutted and was half de-scaled revealing bone and muscle underneath. Its head was missing, along with all four of its clawed hands and feet. The wings had been removed and were spread out on the ground, along with all the spikes that had once dotted its spine. Looking at its dead body, Megan could not help but pity it. Yes, it had tried to eat her, but for some reason, she felt sad seeing its carcase dismembered like that.

With the fear and sadness of no longer being on earth all but forgotten, she noticed a number of some things, crawling all over the dragon. As they drew closer, she saw that they were griffins, swarming all around the dead dragon as the group she was with landed. She gave a cry as they set her down on the wet grass. The leader cried out, and the meanest looking griffin she had ever seen trotted up to them. One eye was covered over with a black eye patch, and that side of its face was heavily scarred. It wore a butcher's apron that had once been white, but was now a brownish colour.

It looked at Megan, and then pointed at her, granting her the sight of a mangled hand that was missing one claw. Its squawking sounded half strangled. The leader looked back at Megan, before pulling out that strange device with the gemstone in it. It pointed it at Megan, and just like before, nothing happened. The griffin with the eye patch frowned with its one good eye as the leader clucked and squawked at him.

The eye patch griffin gave a guttural sound and jab a mangled thumb behind him. Megan then found herself dragged over the grass. She cried out as the wet ground chilled her exposed skin. By now, a crowd had gathered to watch as she was pulled along. Some wore armour and sported weapons while a sparse few wore bloodied aprons. As the grass gave way to rocky ground, she saw slabs of meat were lying on the ground. So that's what they were doing with the dragon. A few griffins who were handling the meat all stopped what they were doing to stare at her. Until a griffin began screaming at them, and they quickly got back to work, hauling the meat off to a large circus tent.

As she was dragged towards the tent, fear began to spread throughout Megan's body. Were they going to eat her? Had she been spared from being eaten by a dragon, only to be eaten by griffins? Her fear drained away as they dragged her past it towards a series of smaller tents. The lead griffin walked up and pulled the flap aside, gesturing the others forward. They dragged her inside, and with a sigh of relief, Megan realised that it was warmer in here.

Not by much though. She was still cold without her clothes, and although the tent kept out most of the cold, it was not enough. Looking around, she saw that this tent contained a number of cages. A great big wild boar dominated her view. It was lying down on its side. It raised its head slightly at the intrusion, snorted once, and lay back down again. The griffins dragged her towards one of the cages.

“Hey, no, no!” she yelled, and started struggling. The griffins tightened their grip and continued towards the cage. One of them opened the door, and she was lifted off the ground. She tried kicking and punching out, but the next restricted her attempts to retaliate. They carried her the rest of the way and dumped her inside. The bottom of the cage was covered in straw. She hit the ground and rolled a few times, before coming to a stop in an undignified tangle of limbs.

As she blinked the world back into focus, she heard the metallic clank of the door slamming shut. She turned around just in time to see the lead griffin putting a heavy lock on the cage door. With a snarl, she lunged at it. The griffin backed away just in time to avoid her clasping hands. “Let me outta here!” she snarled, and then gave the iron bars a hefty shake for good measure. “Let me out, you mythological freak!”

The griffin snarled something at her. Megan snarled back. The griffin raised its fore paw, showing off its bulky glove. It gave a flick of its wrist and two metal prongs, six inches long, slid out. Megan backed off, just in time as the griffin struck the bars with the weapon, showering her with sparks. Slowly, she inched away from it, into the centre of the cage, where she sat down. “Please, let me out,” she stammered. It eyed her warily as she curled up, and started rubbing her hands up and down her arms as the chill began to finally make its presence felt.

She shivered as she lay down, attempting to bury herself in the straw that covered the cage bottom. She looked up as a questioning noise came from the leader. It was giving her a look that strangely looked like concern. Or was it curiosity? Whatever the look was, it made the griffin snarl out something which caused a griffin, who was hanging by the tent entrance, to leave. It returned not too much later with something dark brown on its back. It pulled it off, and handed it to the leader, who unlocked the cage door, and threw it at her. No, towards her. The thing landed with a muffled plop before her, and looking down, Megan saw that it was a bear skin rug.

She unfolded it, and her eyes went wide at the thick, fluffy fur. She ran one hand through it before she quickly wrapped herself up in it. The fur was nice and warm and did not tickle her bare skin. It was a Godsend and the best part was it kept out the chill of the air. It reminded her of her old woolen blankets when she was a kid, and how she would wrap herself up in it on cold winter mornings until her mother came banging on her door, demanding that she get up and come get breakfast.

She chuckled at the memory. It was a pleasant little escape from the reality she was in at the moment. Looking up, she saw the griffin leader was still observing her. Then it smiled. Megan's eyebrows shot up at the human gesture. It was not a snarky smile but one of genuine calm, almost as if it cared for her. At that thought, her eyes narrowed as they slid towards the bars that had been struck by its metal claws. That blow came awfully close.

Her gaze drifted back to the leader. “What's your game plan?” she muttered softly as she idly rubbed the back of her neck, specifically the spot where the dart had struck. The griffin seemed watched her for a good two minutes, before slowly turning and walking out of the tent, the others followed close behind.

Left alone with her thoughts, Megan looked around the cage she was imprisoned within. It was obviously built for something much larger than her, and the floor covered with straw. In the corner, was a wooden bucket, while opposite that, laid a wooden water trough. Shuffling over, she peered into the water. It was clear with no signs of muck floating on the surface or beneath. Still, she was hesitant to drink from it. The bucket she had no idea what that was. It could be her toilet or food bowl. She decided to wait and see what would happen in regards to food before she touched it.

She sighed and shuffled her way back to the centre of the cage, before sitting down. So, she was trapped in a cage, by griffins, possibly on an alien world. She gave a half shrug. On the brighter side, at least she did not have to worry about her family being in danger from dragons. Or griffins. Or whatever else lives on this world. She gave a sad sigh. On the down side, how was her family coping without her? Were they looking for her right now? They would not find her. How were her siblings taking this? Danny? Molly? They would take it pretty hard. Unless she figured out a way home. But how? How could she find the exit, if she did not even know how she came through the entrance?

It was impossible to tell the time inside the tent, but what felt like hours later, a griffin showed up carrying two large wooden buckets that stunk. It walked over to the giant boar and tossed the foul smelling contents into a large wooden trough. The boar staggered to its feet and waddled over, before shoving its hairy snout into the muck with disgusting noises that made her stomach turn.

She was completely unaware when the griffin appeared at her cage, only to jerk her head in its direction as it banged the bars to grab her attention. It then placed a clay bowl down inside the cage and gestured at it. Keeping the bear-skin rug wrapped tightly around her, Megan crawled over to the bowl and looked down at it. It was green goo of sorts, with chunks of something floating within, with steam wafting up from it, greeted her. Almost, as if mocking her, an air bubble floated to the surface to erupt in a minute pop. Megan once again felt her stomach beginning to flip-flop.

The griffin said something and gestured at the bowl again. Megan picked it up and looked back up at the griffin with a lopsided grin. “I don't suppose the complementary hotel meal comes with utensils?” A confused blink was her only response. She sighed. “Well, in that case, I guess the hope of napkins are out of the question.” She looked back down at the bowl.

Oh well, you only live once.

She experimentally dipped a single finger into the goo. It was hot, and the stuff stung her finger a bit as she raised it to her mouth. Unsure of what exactly this was, she was hesitant to try it. Daring a glance elsewhere, she saw that the griffin was still watching her. Was it waiting to see if she would eat? Closing her eyes, she stuck her finger in her mouth, sucked the stuff off, and swallowed.

It was vegetable soup.

And not that bad either. She picked up one of the chunks and popped it into her mouth. That was fried potato. Another was fried pumpkin. She dipped two fingers into the soup and ate it. She did this again. Then three fingers. Before she knew it, she was licking the bowl clean. Looking back up, she that the griffin was smiling. It seemed pleased that she had eaten, and before she could question this any further, it left. She gave the now empty bowl in her hands a quizzical look, before feeling the bare-skin rug around her body. They obviously wanted her healthy and fed, if the dinner griffin stuck around long enough to make sure she ate.

Why?

Well, she did not have to worry about ending up on the menu. Unless they wanted her to get fat. Glancing down at the bowl, she was sure that was not what they wanted, or they would be giving her lots more to eat. Idly licking her lips, she subconsciously wished she did have more.

Looking around the cage yet again, she sighed. There was nothing to do. Then she gasped. “My stuff,” she cried. The boar just flicked an ear and emitted an annoyed grunt. She did not take any notice. Her clothes, her iPhone, her bike. Where was it? Had the griffins taken it and if so, where did they keep it? If they were looking after her, would they at least let her have her clothes back? This rug was nice, but it would be rather degrading walking around in her birthday suit. Having her clothes would also make her feel more dignified, and less like an animal.

She blinked. Then she turned to cast a suspicious look towards the tent flap. They thought she was a wild animal. Or did they? They were tool users. They made rudimentary clothing. They constructed permanent shelters that would take a good knowledge of physics and mathematics to construct. Surely they could recognise sentience. If they did think she was an animal, how could she prove them otherwise?

She had quite a long time to formulate a plan. Nobody, or was it no griffin, visited her for what felt like hours. Finally, the tent flap was pushed aside, and a griffin walked in carrying a steaming hot pot. It walked up to the cage, and gave a squawking sound as it gestured at her to back away from the cage door. Megan observed the griffin as it eyed the empty clay bowl. Megan smiled, and made a coughing sound to catch its attention. When she succeeded, she pointed at the bowl, and then pointed at the pot. The griffin frowned, then seemed to get curious.

It pointed at the bowl, and mimed pouring something into it. Megan smiled, and the griffin flinched. Megan stiffened. What set the griffin off? It gave her a dubious look as if second guessing itself. Megan began to panic. She had frightened the griffin by smiling at it? What was wrong with smiling? The panic within her began to manifest as she saw the griffin slowly reaching for a billy club that hung around its waist.

Whatever she had done, it now thought she was being threatening. She had to salvage the situation fast. Foolishly, she moved like lightning, startling the griffin with a loud high-pitched squawk. Grabbing the bowl, she moved into a cross-legged sitting position and held it out towards the griffin. The griffin settled down as it saw what she had done. The billy club hesitated, before it was slowly returned to the belt. Megan gave an exaggerated sad look, hoping against hope that, that expression would not be considered hostile.

The cage door was unlocked, and the griffin cautiously entered inside with her. Megan did not move a muscle. The pot was placed down, the griffin never taking its eyes off her as the lid was removed, and more hot soup was ladled into her bowl.

“Thank you,” she said slowly as not to alarm the already weary griffin. The said creature frowned at her. Megan inwardly smiled. She had its attention now. Time to try something else. She slowly, deliberately held up a single finger, drawing the griffin's attention to it. Then she cautiously moved it to point down at the bowl, or rather the soup. Then she carefully picked it up, and mimed eating it with a spoon.

The griffin's frown deepened. After a few motions of pretend eating, she put down the bowl and carefully held out her hands in a begging gesture. The griffin did not even flinch. It just stood there. Then it picked up the pot, backed up, out of the cage, and gently closed the door, making sure to lock it. Then it turned about and walked out of the tent. Megan cocked her head to one side. Did her plan work? Did the griffin believe that she wanted a spoon? She rubbed her chin in sudden thought. What if they did not have utensils? What if they just used their claws and beaks? She groaned. Damn it, why didn’t she think of this before? If that was the case, maybe the griffin thought she was a trained animal and was simply performing tricks.

She sighed. Whatever the answer was, she would get it if she waited. So, moving herself into a comfortable seating position, she hugged her legs to her chest, wrapped the rug around her whole body, and waited.

The soup had lost its steam by the time the tent flap opened. She had been eyeing it hungrily as her stomach was clearly not prepared to wait, and had almost given up hope, when the griffin returned with the leader. It was easily recognisable in that armour it wore, causing Megan to wonder if the griffin actually slept in it. The other griffin in tow was the one who had brought her the soup. That griffin took the leader over to the cage, and started talking to it. At least she assumed it was speech of some kind. It reminded her of parrot trying to dislodge something stuck in its throat.

The leader stood by, listening as it eyed her. Then when it finished, the leader pulled out something and held it towards Megan. She blinked in shock. It was a wooden spoon. She had to keep herself from grinning. No telling what this griffin would do if she did. Moving slowly, she bowed her head towards the griffin, and slowly held out her arms, cupping her hands before the griffin. The leader slowly extended its own foreleg, and paused. Megan watched as it seemed to work something over in its mind. Slowly, it placed the spoon into Megan's cupped hand and held it there.

Megan watched this and gave the griffin a curious look. The griffin held onto the spoon for a good half second, before slowly releasing its grasp on the wooden utensil, and withdrawing from the bars. Megan waited until the foreleg was completely withdrawn before pulling her own arms back to her chest. She bowed again, and said, “Thank you.” The leader did not even move.

It was then that if finally hit her. The leader had been testing her, to see if she would attack him or not. Even perhaps to see if she could be trained? Megan did not try to dwell on that thought for too long, but instead held up the spoon for both griffins to see before she carefully, leaned forward to pick up the bowl of soup. Then with slow, deliberate movements, she started spooning the soup into her mouth. The two griffins watched her all the while until she had finished. Then she placed the spoon in the bowl and carefully slid it towards the two griffins, before just as carefully, moving back. Sitting down, she bowed again, and thanked them, giving her stomach a satisfied pat for effect.

The other griffin turned to the leader who just stared back at Megan. Slowly, it reached in through the bars and removed the bowl from her cage. The leader handed it over to the other griffin who left after a command was delivered, leaving her alone with the leader. The griffin smiled. A strange one in itself as the beak was kept closed, but the corners tilted upwards in a strikingly similar gesture. It looked weird, considering that the beak should not have been able to do that, but it did.

Megan decided to see how far she could push it. Slowly, she pointed at herself and spoke her own name. “Mee-ghan,” pronouncing it slowly and clearly, so that the griffin could understand and repeat it. The griffin cocked its head, then pointed at Megan and spoke her name. Or what sounded like her name.

“Mhe-gha?”

She said it slowly, more precise this time and was rewarded with the same mangled response. In spite of the griffins flexible beak, it could not pronounce her name. After a few more tries, she gave up. Looks like she was going to be, 'Mhe-gha,' to this stupid bird. Moving on, she pointed at herself, spoke her name, and then pointed at the griffin. What followed were two consecutive squalls that made the griffin sound like it was channelling Donald Duck.

Megan scrunched up her mouth, and tried to imitate the vocals. It took five tries, but she came close enough that the griffin actually seemed pleased. Well, pleased enough to stop repeating. As the two of them just stared at each other, she began to wonder if it was ts name, or its species? Hell, she would hate to think that the griffin thought she was of the Megan Race.

Before she could think about it any further, the griffin abruptly turned about and left. Megan just sat there, wondering if her plan had succeeded or not. Had she convinced the griffin she was civilised? Did it think she was a trainable animal with manners? She hoped to God it was the former. She patiently waited to see if anything else would come of her display but after what felt like two hours of nothing she gave up and lay down in the straw, trying to get some sleep.

***

In spite of the lack of sunlight, she managed to work out that three days had passed since she was captured by the griffins. In the time she spent inside the cage, she attempted multiple times to convince the griffin who brought her food that she was an intelligent being. She gave displays of etiquette and understanding of rules. She always made sure to say thank you whenever she received food. She emphasised greatly that she was no threat, and it still did not work. Every encounter ended the same. The griffin in question would make a hasty exit.

On the fourth day, she woke to loud noises. She had been used to loud noises inside the cage by that time as she discovered to her dismay on her first night of captivity that the damn boar snored like a broken weed wacker. No, this noise was different. Cracking open her eyes and sitting up, she saw that the boar was now outside its cage, and was being led outside the tent. Most of the noise being made was being emitted from the boar as it appeared to protest being forced to move after such long inactivity. A single griffin led the boar outside by a bridle around its muzzle while another griffin carefully watched the rear.

The behemoth lumbered out through the tent flap, now pinned back, and into the outside. She watched with interest as this had been the only exciting thing to happen in the past three days until she was once more alone. She watched the tent flap for a minute, before shrugging her shoulders. “Well, that was barrel of fun.”

She leaned back into the straw, when the tent flap opened again. Looking up, she saw the griffin leader approaching her, a length of rope slung across its back. Megan was curious until it pointed at her. “Mhe-gha,” it said, then pointed at her, before sticking both its arms out and holding its wrists together. Megan eyed the gesture with suspicion, before looking at the length of rope on its back.

“Oh hell no,” she muttered, and to emphasise the point, she folded her arms and shook her head. The griffin frowned and repeated the gesture, more emphatically this time. “No, means no, chicken,” Megan snapped. “I'm a human being, not an animal.” The griffin sighed, whether in understanding or frustration she did not know because it opened the cage door, and walked inside. It carefully approached her and just as cautiously, reached out to stroke the left side of her rug-covered arm, making soothing noises all the while.

Megan sighed as she looked back at the tent flap. The rope meant that she was going somewhere and that she had to be secured before she would be allowed outside. So she could not escape she realised bitterly. That raised an interesting question. Where were they going? Why? And why did it mean having her hands tied up with rope to do so? She looked down at the griffin's foreleg, gently stroking her arm through the rug.

That made her realise something. She caught the griffin's attention and pointed at herself, then towards the outside, and gave an exaggerated shiver. She then pointed at the rug, and hugged herself, making contented noises. The griffin appeared to understand this, or at least she hoped it did. She decided to hammer the point home. Slowly rising to her feet, she then pointed at the rope, and outside. She started walking slowly forward, holding her arms out in the position of having them tied together, before allowing the rug to slip off her shoulders. She then mimed being cold.

The griffin now seemed to understand as she hastily picked the rug back up and wrapped herself up in it, the cold starting to bite at her exposed skin. Having her clothes back would be great, but she did not know how to convey that across. The griffin on the other hand appeared to come up with its own solution. It gestured for the rug which Megan reluctantly handed over.

With the quick flick of its wrist, the two metal prongs shot out from its glove and it began cutting. Megan watched as it worked away until he ceased his activities and motioned for her to kneel down, which she did. The griffin then stood up on its hind legs and tossed the rug over Megan's head, manoeuvring the hole it had cut into it so that her head fit neatly through.

Looking over the work, Megan now saw that the rug had been converted into a rather simple poncho that came down to just above her ankles. Looking back down at the griffin, she saw it was holding out the rope. Megan sighed in defeat. It just would not take no for an answer. The only way she was leaving this cage was with her wrists tied up.

How much did she trust this griffin? Where were they going? Why? And why did it require her wrists tied up like she were a dangerous criminal? Megan looked down at her own hands. Well, she was the strange one here, maybe where ever they were going required some kind of leash law or something. In the end, the question came down to what price she was whiling to pay in order to finally get out of this cage.

With a roll of her eyes, she held out her hands. The griffin worked quickly. With a few sharp tosses of its own hands, her wrists were neatly wrapped and secured. Megan was stunned. Not one, not even her grandfather had ever managed to tie a knot that fast before. One corner of her mouth rose in admiration for the griffin. It was a short rope, but long enough so that the griffin kept a slight distance between them, but also left plenty of slack as if to reassure Megan that she was not going to be forced into a pace she could not match.

The griffin then said mangled her name once more and pointed at the tent flap. Megan nodded and followed it outside. The cold still stung her as she exited the tent. The rug helped, but the wind blew up from the sides, ruffling the rug about. She blinked as the sunlight dazzled her eyes. The boar was now loaded up with baggage of all kinds. Bags containing God only knew what. She gave a startled yelp as she abruptly remembered the cold, damp grass beneath her feet. Looking down, she cursed herself for not thinking about footwear.

A few griffins stopped what they were doing to see what the fuss was all about. For the first time, Megan got a good look at multiple griffins without the shock of encountering them for the first time. The difference between genders was easy to spot. The females were slender while the males were bulky. As she discovered the differences between the two genders, she then noticed an interesting fact about them. The females wore armour while the males wore nothing. In fact, no males appeared to carry any weapons of sorts what so ever.

The males appeared to be labourers while the females were the soldiers. Looking over at the griffin leader confirmed that yes, it was a she. A boisterous squawk cut through the air, and the leader turned to face the wounded griffin with the apron Megan had seen when she first arrived. She tilted her head as the leader began conversing with him. That griffin was a male, but it appeared to have more authority than the leader. So was he the true leader then? If so, what should she call the other griffin? Her actual name was an untranslatable Donald Duck impression, and there was no way she could keep calling her that.

She tilted her head. She needed a nickname. She had originally wanted to call her Colonel Sanders, but she was not a he. Watching the female griffin, her eyes slid to the armour she wore. A smile formed on her lips. She would be Joan of Arc; Joan for short. While she had been working on a good name for Joan, she realised that most of the conversation between the true leader and Joan had been about her. Well, it was easy to hear her mangled name, combined with the occasional gesture in her direction answered that question.

The true leader, she settled on calling him Gordon Ramsay because of both his loud voice and the apron, was in a heated discussion with Joan over something that Megan could not quite figure out. There was a lot of pointing at her, and the giant boar. It eventually came to a conclusion when Gordon interjected to something Joan had said, which caused Joan to pause and think. Joan then nodded, and Gordon turned to shout to a nearby griffin that raced off. Joan gave the rope a gentle pull, indicating that Megan should follow, and she was led over to the massive beast.

The sides of the boar held all sorts of bags and baskets, strategically tied to both its sides to prevent it from falling over. The boar occasionally grunted as griffins tightened straps in an attempt to secure whatever was being attached to the giant beast. Joan got Megan to halt near the rear left, which was uncomfortably close to the giant swishing tail for Megan's liking.

Finally, Gordon returned with another griffin, carrying what looked like a large canary cage. Megan blinked at it and gave an irritated sigh. With a sinking feeling, she knew whom that was for. From one cage to another, and a bird cage to boot. The irony was too humiliating to dwell on.
The cage was set on the ground before Megan, and opening the door, Joan gestured for her to climb inside. Megan gave her a pleading, sad look, hoping that she would change her mind. Joan seemed to sense her distress and walking over, gently patted her arm, making soothing sounds. It was a repeat performance of when she was trying to coax Megan out of the first cage. Megan again sighed in defeat. She was glad that they were not being forceful, for now, but if she was beginning to suspect that if she continued down this path that could easily change.

She threw up her hands. “Fine,” she muttered and climbed into the cage. It was cramped inside. She had to crouch down, and there was barely enough room for her to sit with her knees pushed up against her chest, let alone for the bear-skin rug. As she tried to get comfortable, Joan gestured for her to hold out her arms. Complying with this request, Megan watched as she quickly untied her wrists, giving her back the freedom of her hands. She rubbed the skin where the ropes had unfortunately chafed as Joan quickly closed the door and locked it.

She gave a startled cry as four griffins abruptly lifted her off the ground, and carried her towards the boar. She could not see what they were doing above her, but there were the sounds of ropes being tightened, and when they let go, the cage was secured to the side of the great beast. Then, one of the griffins above her, threw a sheet over the cage, shrouding her in darkness, before lashing a few ropes around it the sheet in order to secure it.

Thinking about the situation, Megan could not help but wonder what was the point of all this? Where were they taking her? Why did it require her cage to be covered up? Why were her wrists tied up only to be taken outside? Did they think she could not be trusted not to bolt? Megan sighed once more in frustration as she leaned her head back against the bars. Where ever they were going, she would find out, as well as her purpose on this trip.

A full hour passed before she felt the boar began to lumber forth. Megan had somehow managed to doze off, but was jolted back to reality as the trip now began. However, she soon began to drift off again as she realised that there was not anything to look at. The sheet that they used to cover her cage was thin enough to let in light, but she could not see through it. Looking around, she managed to find a small hole located behind the left side of her head. Shuffling her whole body around, she managed to reached through the bars, and using her finger, work at the hole until it was big enough for her to look through. She did not try to make it any bigger as the wind began to slip in, chilling her face.

What she could see was not all that interesting either. Nothing but mist and mountains. At first it was beautiful, reminding her of Scotland, but it all became monotonous after it was apparent that nothing would be changing anytime soon.

They stopped when night began to fall, making camp. They unloaded the boar, and her cage, setting it aside with all the other stuff they were hauling. Megan realised with a smirk that she was being stored with the cargo. They fed her, before attending to themselves. It was clear after they removed her bowl that they were not going to let her out of the cage for the night. She mumbled a curse, before settling down into a position that likely would not kill her spine for sleeping hunched up like this. Watching through the hole she had made, Megan watched as they gathered around a campfire, eating, and what sounded like laughing.

Then one brought out something that resembled as lute, and began to pluck at the strings. All sounds ceased amidst the campfire as all present listened to the lute player. Megan could not help but listen also. The melody was hard to describe. The beat being played had a fast tempo but was not as complicated as human music. Where the human hand had ten fingers to work with, the griffin's forepaws only had eight stubby claws. It felt like a song for a beginner being played by an expert.

Megan listened through song, after song mildly unimpressed. She could do better. Eventually, the camp broke up, the fire was doused out, and one by one, the griffins retreated into their tents for the night. Finally, Megan was all alone. Well, not exactly alone. She still had the boar who once again began to eat at her sanity with its snoring.

She must have drifted off to sleep because she was startled when the sheet was ripped off her cage, exposing her to the cold air. The sun shone down from behind grey clouds while the griffins were busy sitting around last nights camp fire, eating. That was when Megan realised what was going on: it was Breakfast time. The griffin in question was holding out a bowl of grey something with a spoon in it. The said mystery food turned out to be porridge. This turned out to be more delicious than the soup, and she was licking the bowl before she knew it.

The one dietary habit of the griffins that bugged her was the fact that they only seemed to have breakfast and dinner. So naturally, they assumed her dietary habits worked along the same lines as theirs. This resulted in her being hungry all the time. Another interesting sight was the griffins did not give her any meat, in spite of the fact that they ate lots of it. Then again, Megan was glad they did not because she had also taken note that the meat they did eat was raw.

It was not long after breakfast was consumed that the griffins got straight back to work. They reattached her cage to the back of the boar, and barely fifteen minutes after that, she felt the beast lumber off. Megan found that she had to make another hole in her sheet because her old one was located somewhere else, but now she saw that they were winding their way through a mountain pass. Tall, imposing granite structures surrounded her on all sides, blocking out the sky. She could not see what lay below, but one chance encounter had the boar leaning dangerously to one side that she could see they were on a narrow road, with a large, snaking ravine below, its depths obscured by fog. Not surprisingly, she did not look out of the hole after that.

The road trip lasted at least another three days. When they stopped for the night, Joan let her out so she could do her business. Every time, she hastily found a rock to go behind and relieve herself. Much to her annoyance, Joan followed. The damn bird was not going to let Megan out of her sight while she was not in the cage. Realising she wasn't going to lose her shadow, Megan decided to show the griffin that she was indeed civilised. She dug a hole, did her business, and then buried it. Joan did acknowledge this with a raised eyebrow but did nothing else.

As she was led back to her cage, Megan felt frustrated. What did it take to make this oversized chicken understand she was intelligent? As the door was locked behind her, she flipped Joan off in frustration. The griffin did not even seem to understand, let alone acknowledge what she did. She hoped against hope that she was not convincing Joan that she was a trained animal. If that happened, she may be spending the rest of her years behind bars.

After a rinse and repeat of the usual morning routine, she noticed a change in the atmosphere of the griffins. They seemed excited. Almost jovial. That could only mean one thing. They were nearing their destination. After they once more got on the road, Megan found herself constantly looking through her peephole, looking out. The mountains still dominated the scene for most of the morning. Then they parted and to Megan's amazement, opened up to a sea.

White capped breakers dashed themselves against the rocky shoreline, spraying foam high enough to splash the path their little convoy was taking. Low grey clouds obscured the horizon as the wind began to pick up, lashing the coast line with billowing gusts.

Megan shivered as the wind began to creep in through the numerous holes she had made in her sheet in order to get an outside view. She was beginning to regret that decision when jubilant cries erupted from all the griffins in the party. Scrambling to her peephole, she looked out and felt her eyes widen at what she saw.

It was a city. Its size made it clear that the caravans starting point was a small town in comparison. Like the town, it too was built into the mountain side, but its buildings extended up the mountain side, and even carved into it, allowing the mountain to hold more housing and structures, all the way up to a large mansion like building that dominated the scene.

Thin bridges were sprawled everywhere, connecting communities of houses together. Megan noticed that the more wealthy looking ones were located higher up the mountain side. At the very base lay what could only be described as an industrial district. Great warehouse like buildings dominated the space between the sea and the rocky mountain side. Beyond that, in the ocean lay a stone breakwater, which within its protection lay at least forty sail powered wooden vessels of sorts, ranging size from numerous sloops to one large topsail schooner that dominated the harbour. At the corner of the breakwater, a tall wooden tower protruded into the sky, a bright fire blazing at the top. A lighthouse Megan realised.

Her overall impression of the whole city was it looked like someone was trying to recreate San Francisco while channelling Valparaiso.

As they neared the city, Megan could make out griffins, flying to and fro, but most appeared to be walking through the narrow streets. They passed a good number of griffins along the road, solitary griffins with packs on their backs, or small groups that grew no larger than five, all heading in the opposite direction to her party.

As they finally neared a checkpoint, Megan could not help but wonder why she had been brought here, and what plans did Joan of Arc have installed for her? Whatever would happen, Megan could only hope that whatever the answer turned out to be, it would not be too humiliating or a fate worse than death.

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