Macster - The Missing Links

Virginia stared at the fairies, uncertain whether to be grateful for the warning or upset that it had increased their paranoia. Tony tugged on the chain and began to turn away back the way they had come. "All right, enough."

Then the first fairy saw the manacles and gasped. "Oh, look, they're all chained up! That can't be helping. Do you want to be separated from each other?"

Virginia looked back at them in relief. "Oh, yes!"

"More than you can imagine," Tony muttered. Virginia glared at him.

"All right then," the first fairy said, extending a hand with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. But the second fairy knocked her hand aside.

"No, let me!" Her pixie face was scrunched up cutely.

The third fairy shook her head. "It's my turn to be naughty!" She extended her hand.

"Wait, what do you mean, be naughty?" her father protested.

But it was too late. With a giggle the third fairy sent a sizzling stream of golden electricity toward them. It struck the manacles and coursed all along the chains. Then the manacles snapped open, and the chains fell away into the muck. They were free.

Tony rubbed his wrists, sighing contentedly. "Well, that's better, because..."

He looked up. The fairies were gone. And so was Virginia.

Hurriedly he wheeled about, gazing into the swamp. It looked completely different now. Somehow the magic had shifted him to another part of the swamp, and none of the trails or foliage looked familiar. He had no idea which way to go to get out--or to find Virginia.

"Virginia!" he yelled. There was no answer. Either she was too far away, or there was too much noise for her to hear him. He yelled again, this time at the vanished fairies. "Hey, when I said we wanted to be separated, I didn't mean literally!"

Yet he knew there was nothing he could do about that now. Once again he had not thought ahead but acted on impulse. Slowly he turned around again, trying to choose a direction. But it was hopeless.

He was utterly lost.

He smelled of sulfur and rotten eggs, his feet were wet, and his pants were coated with muck. Tony was getting really tired, and he had the horrible feeling that he was lost forever. Even though he could still hear the mysterious music, and it seemed to be getting louder, he had stopped singing long ago.

Occasionally, he would slap at a mosquito or some other kind of bug, and that would be the only sound in the darkness.

Ahead was another little island. He half walked, half swam to it, then pulled himself onto the mossy surface. He should have gotten up and walked, but he didn't.

Looking around, he discovered the remains of a small campsite: a burning pyramid of wood, a pair of discarded rucksacks, a frying pan set over the fire, and a small clutch of eggs in a sack. He scanned the island but saw no one else around, just lots of choking vegetation.

"Hey, anybody gonna eat these eggs?"

No answer, of course.

Shrugging, Tony sat up and began cracking eggs into the pan. No sense letting this food go to waste. No one else was around, and since they weren't mushrooms they had to be safe to eat.

And anyway, he was too hungry to care.