Tinkletoes’ eyes stop at the baby dragon sleeping in the corner of the room. “What's he doing here?”
Writer Lady turns and looks at Furnatche. “He's curled up in the corner, his breathing is slower, his eyes are closed.” She looks at the self-proclaimed mercenary. “It looks like he's sleeping.”
“The lil’ guy doesn't usually sleep in here.”
“He's usually with the kids.” Writer Lady agrees.
“What's he doing here?”
“How should I know?”
“It's your house.” Tinkletoes says.
“Furnatche is another living creature. Autonomous, independent. I can't tell you what's going on in your…” Writer Lady chooses her words carefully before continuing, “...head how would I know what's going on in his?”
The self-proclaimed mercenary grunts and begins searching Writer Lady's dresser. He’s closing the sock drawer when he notices movement in the corner of his eye. As he opens Writer Lady's pajama drawer he turns to find Furnatche has raised his head. The baby dragon’s eyes open. Furnatche stretches, releasing the tendrils from his nose, the dragon puts nose to floor and begins walking towards the door. The self-proclaimed mercenary follows.
“What are you doing?” Writer Lady asks.
“Something's going on, the dragon knows it too. You got a problem with that?”
“What are the PJs for?”
Tinkletoes gives Writer Lady’s pajamas back to her. “Nothing. Here.” Tinkletoes looks everywhere but Writer Lady's eyes. “I was helping you clean your mess up,” or something like that fell out of the self-proclaimed mercenary's mouth.
Furnatche stops and sniffs at the molding at the base of the wall near the bedroom door. The baby dragon turns and looks at Tinkletoes.
“Do you smell something?” Tinkletoes asks.
Furnatche raises his head and walks into the hall, stopping near the door to Writer Lady's room. Tinkletoes follows, Writer Lady throws her pajamas on to her bed and follows, completing the group.
Tinkletoes puts a finger to his lips, gesturing to Writer Lady to be quiet. Everyone listens.
“Do you hear that?” He asks.
“What is that?”
“Someone's giggling.”
Writer Lady looks around and cocks her head, listening more closely. “It's coming from... behind the wall?”
Furnatche sniffs where the sound is coming from.
“It's the middle of the night T.P. would you just give it up already.” She says.
“It's not T.P.” Tinkletoes observes. “T.P. would just pop in. He wants us to know when it's him. Whoever this is, they're looking for something.”
“Or someone.” Writer lady observes.
“I keep this place on lockdown. No one else should be here.”
More giggling is heard coming from behind the wall.
“We can hear you!” Writer Lady calls out.
The giggling stops.
“This isn't your typical house. There is at least one doorway to Faerie here, there could be another one. Perhaps we have a new visitor.”
The self-proclaimed mercenary shakes his head. “T.P., Diomedes, Daemon, even the giant what was his name…Gordon, showed themselves. That pointy eared Teletubbie lookin' thing I saw or whatever this is isn’t coming in to say ‘Hello.’ Until we know who or what this is I'm raising security protocol. Effective immediately.” The self-proclaimed mercenary’s eyes sweep the hallway. “Someone is watching over this house and everyone in it, probably 24/7. You take the First Watch. Carp will come to relieve you at 6:00 a.m.”
“Isn't 6:00 a.m. a little late?” She asks.
“I'm kind of tired.” Tinkletoes admits. “Coffee can wait until 6:10.”
Writer Lady watches as Tinkletoes and Furnatche walk in the direction of the other bedrooms. “I'm not allowed to sleep anymore," she says with a sigh. After First Watch, making coffee, seeing to it everyone has eaten and cleaning up the kitchen, Writer Lady settles down in bed and closes her eyes.
“Mom?” Writer Lady turns on her side and opens her eyes to find Dobby Cat. She reaches out and rubs the ginger tabby's head. “What do you need, Bubby?”
“A situation is developing in Quadrant 8B.”
“Speak English Kitty.”
“Something is wrong in the bonus room.”
Getting out of bed she quickly puts on her robe and follows Dobby to the bonus room where a group has already gathered. Dobby stops walking when the pair are adjacent to the utility closet and holds out a small flashlight.
“You're going to need this.” He says.
Writer Lady notices that the light in the room appears to have ended at its halfway point. Taking the flashlight from his paw, she turns it on. Tinkletoes, Carp, Aunt Purdy, Peter, Paige, Dylan and Furnatche all look the way they should. Daemon and Diomedes stand next to the back wall. They are both glowing brightly illuminating the wall behind them which no longer has any color at all. Everything beyond the demon and the dragon only exist in shades of gray.
“Where did the color go?” She asks. “Why isn't House freaking out?”
“The flashlight Dobby gave you appeared after Diomedes discovered the changes to the room.” Aunt Purdy says, “Your initials are engraved in the base of it.”
Holding the base of the flashlight up to the light in the closet behind her, Writer Lady sees ‘WL’ engraved into the base of the flashlight in intricate script. She turns her attention back to the group.
“The wall is giving off a vibration, Mi’lady, one that feels like home.” Diomedes explains. Daemon emits a high pitched sound that Writer Lady hasn't heard coming from him since T.P. and Dobby drew the demon from his home several years ago. Furnatche yips in agreement.
“There is magic here. Powerful Faerie magic. It could be some sort of message.” Diomedes suggests.
“Your first magical mail. I'm so excited for you.” Carp says.
“I bet it's a letter,” Dylan says. “From Hogwarts.”
“Sorry kid.” Tinkletoes says. “Wrong story.”
“We are all curious Mi’lady.” Diomedes says.
Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes. “Open her up, let's see what we're dealing with.”