Megan and Bach woke to a wonderful view at the top of the cliffs. Megan loved the way the early morning sunshine crowned each wave with pale gold. Bach, with other needs on his mind, liked the way that the fish were coming in close to shore. He was sure that he could catch some for breakfast.
They wound their way down the narrow path to the beach. The white sand, streaked with rivulets of water trickling down from the mountain, was warm underneath her feet. Bach dived into the waves and had breakfast.
“How can we possibly manage to get across the water?” Megan sat on the sand and wriggled her toes. “I can’t afford to get a boat and we certainly can’t swim the whole way.”
Bach sat down next to her. “Do you remember what I told you about how people know things deep down inside, when they think they don’t?” He asked.
“Well, what about it? Do you think you could do something? After all you have the fairy dust in you and you have Michaels travelling stick.”
“I think that this is too big for instinct alone.” Megan said mournfully. “Somehow I can’t imagine a mortal crossing a distance this wide without the help of a boat.”
Bach stood up and passed along the sand in front of her. “Time for Lesson two” he began.
“You have your wand for when you need to act instinctively and you don’t have time to think of a rhyme. This is sloppy way of doing magic and you can never be sure of the result. Your emotions will cloud your judgement when you try to use it in a stressful situation.”
He sat down facing her and looked deep in to her eyes. “Right now you have the time to sit and think about what you want to achieve with your spell once you have decided this, all you have to do, is form it in to some sort of a rhyme.”
Megan thought about the problem for some time, until the sun was high in the sky. Then she stood up. Looking out across the sea she began to chant.
“Water is an element of life
Life is what I am.
So I may save the one I love
I’ll do what ever I can.”
She patted her pocket to check she had not dropped Michael’s stick. Then picking up Bach, she walked into the water.
“Stop!” exclaimed Bach.
“I told you that you had the power of a fairy, not the power of a mermaid.”
Megan walked back to the beach and sat down again to think. Once again she cradled Bach in her arms. She began to chant for a second time.
“Fairy, fly though the air
On wings that shimmer and shine.
I wish that I could rise up now
To find that love of mine
“A little bit soppy” growled Bach.
Then seeing the disappointment he changed his tone “That’s more like it” he said encouragingly.
Megan shut her eyes tight and imagined a way to cross the ocean. ‘Flying’ she thought ‘that’s what fairy’s are famous for. I will fly to Michael.’ She thought about what it must feel like to fly above the clouds, in the warmth of the sun. Gripping Michael’s stick harder she felt something begin to happen.
All at once she felt her feet leave the ground. A strange feeling was growing from her back. She opened her eyes and looked down. She was hovering above the water. She looked over her shoulder to where the funny feeling was coming from.
“Wings!” she exclaimed with delight. “I have wings”
Flying up to the top of the cliff she saw the path of the sun moving across the sea. She landed again. I really need to do something about Bach she thought. She held her wand over him.
“Wish to fly too Bach, so you can come too. I can’t fly all the way over the ocean with you in my arms you are much too heavy.”
“Dogs,” said Bach “are not meant to have wings. You can only bend the rules so far. That would definitely be breaking them.”
Megan looked disappointed for a moment. Then she grinned.
“What about a travelling bubble?” she asked. “I think that I could produce some sort of bubble for you to fly in. You could use Michael’s travelling stick to direct it, the way that he does with his pocket handkerchiefs.”
Bach thought for a while and then agreed.
Megan thought quickly this time.
“To save us some trouble
From this big wet puddle
We need air to thicken and
Create a travelling bubble.”
Bach groaned with despair. “I think the only redeeming feature of that rhyme, was you leaving out the word Cuddle.”
“You did not say that it had to have rhythm as well as rhyme” Megan replied cheerfully “and it is working.”
Sure enough the air around was thickening and within a few minutes a bubble had appeared. It had a faint pink and blue sheen to its surface and looked as delicate as a soap bubble. Megan and Bach peered closely at it.
Megan poked it with her finger to see if it would burst. Her finger came up against a wall that felt as if she was poking a baby’s tummy. Bach took Michaels stick from Megan then nudged the bubble with his nose. It enveloped him entirely. Megan realised that although she could still see him, Bach looked fainter than before.
“I think that no one will notice you flying around in this.” She shouted
Bach’s voice wafted through the bubbles’ wall to her. “There is no need to shout I can hear you perfectly well.”
So, Bach and Megan set off to fly across the ocean. Half way across Megan began to get tired. Having to flap wings for mile after mile was more exhausting than she expected. Bach suggested a quick stop on an island below so that they could both rest.
Resting on the beach of the tropical paradise, Megan realised that the rocks she could see scattered around the bay, were covered with people; people with long vary-coloured tails.
“Who are they” she quizzed Bach.
“They are the Mir-people.” He replied. “I think I will go and talk to them for a while. You wait here and rest. They may know some handy tips for getting through the Dragonlands. We must be getting close now as the Mermaid islands are quite close to the Dragonlands boarder.”
Bach pranced into the water and doggy-paddled over to one of the mermaids’ rocks. Megan remained on the beach thinking about the wonderful exhilaration of flying. The feeling of the clouds, as her feet brushed by them, and the heat of the sun on her back, the memory of them made her smile.
Bach returned soon from his chat with the Mermaids.
“We are getting close.” he warned, “We will soon be at the boarder to the Dragonlands. You had better prepare yourself. If we meet a dragon you must be polite and respectful. They are known to be quite the grumpiest of creatures and we don’t want you burnt to a crisp.
Megan nodded and picked up her wand. Bach’s bubble appeared again. With a wave goodbye to the mermaids, they floated off towards the now setting sun.
The curve of the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Megan realised that instead of the darkness she had expected, she was surrounded by a dazzling orange and red blaze. Beneath her the ocean vanished and was replaced by a carpet of pink and purple flowers. Then the orange radiance of the border between her world and this one receded. The sky was filled with cloudless blue of such a deep shade that it almost hurt Megan eyes to look at it.
Bach looked around. “We have made it! Welcome to the Dragonlands”
Sleep well and don't let the bed bugs bite.