Edgar reappeared in a sandy waste punctuated by two buildings, with a small pool of water and a pair of palm trees in the distance. The desert sands had grown cool under the blanket of the night, and the stars burned brightly overhead. This had to be the oasis Cassima mentioned.

One of the two buildings seemed out of place for the desert. It was constructed out of bricks, but instead of shingles on its roof, there was merely a wooden frame covered with canvas sheeting. Its door was firmly shut, and the large sign on it that said "CLOSED" confirmed that whatever wares the shop sold, Edgar wouldn't be able to buy any at this hour.

The second building was constructed out of what resembled adobe. Its windows had no glass, its doorway had no door, and atop the roof, several palm fronds covered an array of long poles propped up against each other. A young man sat resting against one of the building's walls, and welcoming light shone from within it. Edgar felt himself drawn towards the humble dwelling, and was inside it before he could stop himself.

The adobe structure seemed to be a shop of some sort…what such a place would be doing in the middle of a desert was beyond Edgar's comprehension, however. There was nothing but sand for a floor, small shelves protruded from the walls and a short, stout cactus with bright pink flowers grew out of a pot near the door. Hay was scattered about the floor, a counter decorated with palm leaves stood near the back of the shop, and behind the counter was a ladder that led up to an opening in the ceiling that must have provided access to the roof.

Climbing down this ladder presently was a young woman with short, dark hair. She wore a plain brown skirt, and for a dweller of the desert, her skin was quite fair. She didn't have much of a figure, but there was still an impish beauty about her. Upon reaching the bottom of the ladder, she lightly leapt to the sand floor and eagerly took her place behind the counter, upon which was a small but bright lamp, the source of the light that had lured Edgar inside.

"Good evening, sir," the woman said kindly. "Welcome to this little place of mercy in this unforgiving land. My name is Leticia, and this is my shop. I sell and trade just about everything. I also provide lodging for travelers who have no shelter of their own. But you… you don't look tired much at all, I see."

"No, I guess I'm not," Edgar shrugged. "I'm on a journey, and I've got to stay awake for as long as I can."

"Suit yourself then, friend. Just tell me if any of my wares interest you."

Edgar nodded his thanks and glanced around the shop, seeing if any of the items caught his eye. A variety of books sat on a shelf on one side of the shop, but the only book that jumped out at him was a volume on perfecting transfiguration techniques – a topic that Edgar did not find appealing at all.

On the other side of the shop were three shelves, one of which was empty, while another one held a strange, harp-like instrument, which didn't interest Edgar, since he couldn't play music to save his life.

The item on the last shelf, however, made him stop and examine it. It looked like a model boat, but there was something about it that suggested that it might be more than just that.

But what? Edgar pondered.

"Excuse me, Leticia?"

"Yes?" the young woman asked.

"What is that ship you have displayed over there? It doesn't look like a normal model boat to me."

Leticia lowered her voice, and her face suddenly grew very serious.

"Well, since you asked, no, it's not. It's anything but normal."

"What is it, then?"

"I can't reveal too much," Leticia whispered. "There's always an ear to the wall in this place. But you seem to be an honest man, and I'll sell it to you for whatever you have in currency. Artifacts like these do little good for me. I don't have much use for magic."

Edgar blinked in surprise.

"You mean it's…"

"Yes, but shhh!" Leticia urged. "I will say this much, though: it provides a means of travel, and it is genuine. That's what the trader who gave this to me said. And he looked fairly honest as well. Give me a sizeable offer, and the ship and the knowledge needed to make it work are yours."

"All right. Thanks." Edgar replied. Unfortunately, with no money to his name, he had no way of obtaining that boat…and something told him that he simply had to. His magic skills were quite limited, and supplementing them with another magical item could certainly come in handy.

As he exited Leticia's shop, he noticed the pool to the west that made life in this endless desert possible. He approached the tiny body of water and gratefully scooped up a handful of the cool liquid. As he was drinking, he noticed a lone camel tethered to the taller of the two palm trees. Though one tree was tall and majestic, its mate was quite short. It would take a long time before the little tree became as tall as its elder.

As Edgar was returning to the two buildings, his foot struck something half buried in the sand. He bent over to discover a carved piece of stone with a pattern of bright green grass painted on it and a brilliant ruby set in it. It was identical in shape to the two trinkets he had gotten from the Crystal Dragon and Derek, and like the other two, it gave no clue as to what it could possibly be.

Nonetheless, Edgar pocketed the strange item and headed back to the populated part of the oasis. As he was passing the closed brick building, he noticed a strange mud hut sitting beside it. He drew closer for a better look and as he did, he could discern something alive inside the hut.

"Excuse me?" he whispered, kneeling down and peering into the hut's gloomy interior. "Is anyone in there?"

In reply, a tiny, shriveled head shot out of the hut's entrance hole. The head belonged to an equally shriveled old man with leathery skin, spindly limbs, and a shock of white hair that formed a bristly fringe around his bald pate. His eyes were large and bloodshot, and they were glaring daggers at Edgar, who stumbled backwards and leapt to his feet in alarm.

"What the devil d'yeh want, yeh inconsiderate clod?" the man squawked in a voice about as melodious as a vulture's hiss. "Can't yeh see I'm trying teh rest?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Edgar said, "Who are you?"

"I'm the resident sage, whatd'yeh expect, boy?" the man snarled. "I can't tell yeh nuthin', and there's no reason why yeh'd wantuh know sumthin' at this hour. So g'night!"

With that, his head disappeared into the darkness of the tiny mud dwelling.

A sage, eh? This was certainly the right person to talk to about matters like finding a dark sorcerer or how to go about buying a strangely desirable model ship without any money, but apparently nighttime wasn't the right time to ask him about such things. But Edgar wasn't going to give up that easily. He was determined to get something of any importance out of this "resident sage." He knelt in front of the hut again.

"Please, wiseman, I need your help! If you are who you say you are, please help me."

The sage stuck his head out of his home again, like a tortoise sticking its head out of its shell.

"I have no interest in helpin' yeh, strangeh!" he barked. "Maybe t'morrow I'll help yeh, but now, jus' lemme rest!"

His head retracted again. Try, try again, Edgar thought to himself. Three times the charm.

"O sage, do you know anything about a sorcerer named Shadrack?"

The head appeared and the bloodshot eyes peered into Edgar's once more.

"Yes, I reckon I do!"

Edgar's heart leapt.

"You do?? What, then?"

"Only that it's yer wantin' teh know what he is that's keepin' me awake!" the sage squawked in a loud, piercing shriek. "Now go away! I'm warnin' yeh…one more peep outta yeh and that's it!"

Once more the sage's head vanished. Disappointed but not beaten yet, Edgar rose to his feet and stared at the tiny hut and snickered to himself at the preposterousness of the sage's threat. What was he going to do? Talk Edgar to death?

Well, maybe four times the charm…

"Please," Edgar said in his most plaintive, pleading voice, bending over slightly to be closer to the entrance to the hut. "Just one little piece of advice and that's it, I promise!"

When the sage's head popped out this time, the eyes were almost completely red.

"A'right! That's it! I warned yeh!" he bellowed. "Now here's somethin' to keep yer head busy!"

Before Edgar could react, the wiseman had whirled and flung some objects that were small, loose, irregular and very hard directly at Edgar's head. The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back in the sand with a pounding head and a friendly voice in his ears:

"Hey, you! Wake up! Are you all right?"

Edgar tried to open his eyes. After a few attempts, he succeeded. The stars still filled the night sky, and standing over him was a young man, lean and tan of body and wearing the plain, simple clothes of a traveler. It was the same man he had seen sitting beside Leticia's shop.

"I said, are you all right?" the man repeated.

"I…I guess so," Edgar mumbled, rubbing his forehead with his palm. He must have lost consciousness, but there was no way of knowing how long he had. "But my head…"

The man smirked a little.

"You shouldn't have kept on talking to the sage," he chuckled. "His temper is about as long as this desert is fertile. Your head should be better soon, though. Want me to help you up?"

"Yes, please," Edgar said. The stranger pulled him to his feet with a hand with the texture of a poorly tanned skin, as effortlessly as if Edgar had been a sack of feathers.

"Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Sure," the man replied. "Just don't try talking to that old scorpion again, right?"

He turned and walked back to the same spot by Leticia's shop where Edgar had first seen him, sitting down on the cool sand with his back to the wall.

Rubbing his pounding head again, Edgar casually looked over his shoulder. Resting in the sand behind him were the objects which the recluse in the hut had flung at his head and knocked him out with. As reluctant as he was to do so, Edgar picked up and examined the items.

Whatever they were, there were two of them. Each one had a single leather strap with a crudely wrought buckle. The strap was threaded through a metal loop about three inches wide, forming a void about four inches broad and four inches tall.

Edgar stared at the loops. They appeared to be made of iron. This puzzled him because Rosella had once told him that in her world, it was a well-known fact that fairies tended to detest and avoid iron whenever possible. Edgar had no idea where her ancestors had gotten this idea. He had never had any problems with iron. He had never had any feelings of hatred towards it, nor had he experienced any burns, rashes or even a mild itch from handling it.

Now that he thought about it, he had no qualms about running water or bells, and the thought of somebody wearing their clothing inside out didn't make him shiver with disgust either. Either these unusual dislikes only appeared in a few species of fairies, or else they were unique to the fairies native to Rosella's world – though he had certainly never seen Lolotte quiver at the sight of iron. Then again, perhaps fairies' hatred of these items was merely a fabrication formulated by humans – if this were the case, hopefully it meant that all the unpleasant things Lolotte had told him about humans were false, too.

As Edgar examined the iron and leather items, he suddenly realized that the loops were just the right size to fit his foot through. Perhaps that was the purpose these things were made for, to secure someone's feet to…to what? To whatever the leather buckles could fasten them onto, Edgar supposed. So these objects were foot straps. Of what use they could possibly be? He had no idea, but nonetheless, he decided to keep them, in spite of the fact that their first meeting hadn't been a particularly pleasant one.

After tucking the foot straps away, Edgar turned his attention to the man sitting by Leticia's shop. The man looked quite well traveled. His dark brown hair was streaked with sun, his dark eyes had the permanent squint of someone who spent much time in the desert, and his tan skin indicated that he wasn't a person who stayed indoors all year round. A small knife lay at his side on the sand.

"Good evening, friend," Edgar said, taking a seat in front of the stranger.

"Good evening," the stranger replied amiably. "It's a little late for a traveler to be up and about. Why aren't you sleeping and saving your strength for tomorrow?"

"Well, I guess I'm not your average nomad."

"I might've guessed that," the man replied, eyeing Edgar suspiciously. "I could've sworn I saw you appear out of thin air over there a few minutes ago. Are you some kind of magician?"

"No, but I am a fairy."

The man raised an eyebrow at this statement.

"Excuse me? Are you ribbing me or something? All the fairies I've seen or heard of have either wings, pointed ears or a tiny body, and you, my friend, own none of these. I'm guessing you're just an ordinary fellow trying to make a big name for himself."

"I'm not joking," Edgar said, a little irritated at the man's insinuation. "I am a fairy."

"Oh yeah?" the man chuckled. "I'll bet you a whole gold coin that you're not."

"Hey, I don't want to be part of whatever gambling scheme you've got prepared for me, friend…" Edgar said angrily.

"Gabbro is the name, wanderer, and listen: I'll make the game fair. Either you prove to me that you're a fairy and get a gold piece for my impudence or you 'fess up and get nothing. Does that sound like a friendly enough gamble?"

"Er…I guess so…Gabbro," Edgar replied uneasily. "But how can I prove to you that I am a fairy?"

"Well, no cheap sparks or floating things," Gabbro said, making a meaningless gesture with his hand. "Those are everyday magic tricks. I met a real sorcerer once who could manifest tiny living things using just a piece of the actual animal or plant. If you could do something like that, I'd probably be convinced. But I quite doubt it."

"We'll see about that," Edgar said, getting to his feet and walking away.

He never imagined being in a situation like this, but he supposed that he should have seen it coming. He looked just like a human to the casual observer, though another fairy would be able to see him for what he really was. If only he had been born with green skin like his mother, or with wings…even pointed ears would be enough to prove himself to be more than a fairy that was externally human in every way.

But there was no point in thinking about that now. He needed money to buy that ship in Leticia's shop. Gabbro had money and was willing to part with it on the condition that Edgar proved that he was what he said he was. The traveler had even given Edgar a way to do so…but could Edgar create a tiny life form out of a piece of the original plant or animal? It didn't seem impossible. It might be a bit taxing on him, but not impossible. But what could he create first? And where was he going to get a piece of a plant or animal in the middle of a desert?

Then Edgar remembered that he was in an oasis. He returned to the pool with the two palm trees. He noticed a large splinter sticking out from the smaller tree and tried to break it off, but didn't succeed in doing anything except acquiring a few slivers of wood. Still, a few slivers was more than enough for what he planned to do.

He returned to Gabbro, sitting down in front of him as he had done before, then held out a hand littered with the fibrous slivers.

"I thought about what you told me about that sorcerer who could create things out of parts of living creatures. I'm sure I can do that, so why not start with a plant?"

"All right," Gabbro grinned. "Just watch out it doesn't take root in your hand."

I hope it doesn't, either, Edgar thought nervously. With his free hand, he gave the slivers a good zap, concentrating with all his might on the image of a living, growing tree. Within moments, the slivers had coalesced into a single lump, which began to mold and shape itself, eventually forming a perfect miniature palm tree about five inches tall which appeared to be (though thankfully it truly wasn't) sprouting right out of Edgar's hand.

Gabbro guffawed in amazement.

"Now that is something!" he laughed. "A palm…in a palm! Very clever!"

His face suddenly grew suspicious again.

"But I'm not completely convinced."

Edgar let his tree droop, then dissolved it, reducing it to a handful of slivers once more.

"You're not?" he asked.

"No," Gabbro said. "A plant's one thing, an animal is another. Show me an animal, and I'll probably believe you're a fairy then."

"All right," Edgar sighed, tossing the palm fragments to one side and getting to his feet.

Manifesting a tree hadn't been as difficult as he had feared, but just as Gabbro had said, "a plant's one thing, an animal's another". Of course, he would have to find some animal hair before he could conjure one up. There was that camel at the oasis, but Edgar wasn't going to risk a faceful of camel saliva and a kick in the ribs just to get a handful of that beast's hair…but there weren't any other animals at this oasis, were there?

But wait…perhaps he didn't have to find an animal to pull fur from after all…

Edgar returned to Gabbro and held out a handful of the light brown fur he had found on the console in the Bountiful Woods.

"Okay. You wanted an animal, here's an animal."

He concentrated his energies on the fur, willing it to assume the shape of the animal it had originally came from. His hands began shaking as he worked, but after several seconds, a tiny doe appeared in Edgar's palm, looking placidly up at him, then Gabbro.

"Why…is that a deer?" Gabbro asked, his voice brimming with childlike wonder. "I've heard of them, but I've never seen a live one, even one this size. Why a doe and not a stag?"

The fur that I picked up must have been from one, that's why, Edgar thought, watching his creation pick its way cautiously across the great ditches formed by the gaps between his fingers.

"I'm not sure," he said to the traveler, carefully reducing the doe to fur again, "But I tried. Are you convinced now, Gabbro?"

Gabbro paused thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"I'm just this side of saying 'yes,'" he said.

Edgar sighed. He still hadn't proven himself to Gabbro.

"Well, what more could I create to show you that I am what told you I am, then?"

"I was thinking that myself. You've shown me that you can create palm trees and deer - normal living things. You could probably create a human if you wanted to. But you haven't shown me any…shall we say, abnormal beings, creatures that you don't see every day."

Uh-oh. This didn't sound good.

"So you want me to conjure up some fantastic creature and that will make you believe me?"

"Yes."

"And which creature do you want, exactly?"

Gabbro smiled a slightly askew smile.

"Guess," he said.

Edgar didn't have to, because in an instant, he knew what Gabbro wanted.

"Oh…I see…"

"That's right. Just manifest me a genuine fairy: wings, pointed ears and all. That will be enough to make me believe you're as out-of-the-ordinary as a troll."

Edgar flinched. After that incident with his aunt changing him into one, trolls were still an uneasy subject for him. He could tolerate their mention in normal conversation, but being indirectly compared to one was a bit much.

"Ah…right. I'll do that," he said, getting up.

So Gabbro wanted to see a fairy now, did he? Though Edgar had feared manifesting something supernatural would prove twice as difficult as his previous conjuring tricks had been, it seemed as if it would truly be the simplest of the lot…he had all that he needed to manifest a fairy literally right at his fingertips. Since fur had been sufficient to create a deer, some of his hair would be sufficient to create a tiny miniature of himself…the question was how to separate it from his skull without resorting to yanking it out…

Edgar glanced at the knife at Gabbro's side. Question answered.

"Gabbro, is it all right if I borrow your knife for a while? I promise I'll return it, good as new."

"Why?"

"Ah…no reason," Edgar replied innocently. "I just might need it for something."

Gabbro eyed him dubiously.

"That's a pretty weak reason for taking my good knife, but since I'm not the selfish type and I've got quite a few more knives tucked away, you can borrow it. Just be careful with her."

Edgar nodded, bent down and picked up the knife. He then slipped around the corner of Leticia's shop so that he was standing behind the wall adjacent to Gabbro, out of his sight. He looped a small lock of his tawny hair around the blade of the knife and began sawing away at it. Soon, he had cut away a small, but sufficient chunk of hair. If there was one good thing about having hair so long that it touched his shoulders, it was the luxury of being able to do something as drastic as cutting off a large piece without causing any discernable change to it.

Once more, Edgar returned to Gabbro, the chunk of hair clenched in his right hand.

"All right, Gabbro," Edgar said, holding out his fist. "You wanted it, and you're going to get it."

Edgar then closed his left hand around his right, concentrating on the image of what he wanted to create with all his might. He knew he couldn't create a simple duplicate of himself. He had to create what he knew Gabbro wanted to see. A yellow glow began to engulf his clasped hands, and after several more seconds, Edgar wrenched them apart, revealing a tiny entity hovering between them. It was a tiny person with wings like a dragonfly, large, pointed ears, and dressed in clothing that seemed fashioned out of leaves. It began flitting about in a frenzied, yet carefree manner. The look on Gabbro's face showed that Edgar had succeeded.

"Why, by all the sand in the world," the traveler gasped. "You really must be a fairy to create one like that! And a powerful one, too!"

The tiny fairy zipped up to Gabbro and made a rude face. Then it disappeared – which was naturally Edgar's doing. Though Edgar had unfailingly created a generic fairy, he hadn't been able to prevent his creation from having the same long brown hair and large hazel eyes that he had. He wondered if Gabbro had noticed, but then realized that it didn't matter if he had or hadn't. The traveler was finally convinced that Edgar was what he claimed to be.

"Well, friend, I hope you'll forgive me for all I said," Gabbro smiled. "You are definitely a fairy. And as promised, here's that gold coin I said I'd give you."

Edgar shook the tufts of hair out of his hand and gladly took the proffered coin.

"Do you want your knife back, Gabbro?" he asked, removing the instrument from his pocket. To his surprise, Gabbro raised a hand and shook his head.

"No, no, keep it. You really impressed me. It's been a long time since I've been so close to a true magic-worker like you."

Edgar gratefully thanked Gabbro, carefully pocketed the knife and the gold coin, then walked through the doorway of Leticia's shop.

"Would this gold piece be enough to buy that ship of yours?" Edgar asked Leticia quietly, taking the precious object out of his pocket and showing it to the young woman, whose dark eyes grew large at the sight of it.

"Why, sir! You are quite generous. I haven't been offered this much money for a store item in years!"

She carefully took the coin from Edgar and slipped it under the counter.

"Certainly, this is enough to buy the ship," she said. "Take it now, please."

Edgar took the little ship from its shelf and carefully took it into his possession. It was definitely a magical item, yet the magic it generated felt oddly faint.

"Thank you, Leticia. But now tell me: What does it do?"

"Well, like I said, it is a means of travel," Leticia explained. "All you need to do is place the ship on the ground in a stable place outdoors. It will then rise into the air and start to grow. It will grow and grow until it is the size of an actual boat."

"Good grief!" Edgar exclaimed.

"Then you can climb into your boat and sail through the skies to wherever you wish," Leticia said with a slightly dreamy air, as if wishing that she were free to do such a thing. "The sky isn't the limit with that boat."

"Wow. That is amazing! I can't thank you enough, Leticia."

"No problem," Leticia replied, her eyes shining in the light of the lamp. "Every now and then, I get a real gem, and I'm always thankful when it is sold to someone just as golden."

"I see," Edgar said. "Well, thank you again."

He turned and headed out into the desert night. Leticia waved cheerfully to him as she watched him leave.

A flying ship! Edgar couldn't believe his luck. It was just like the flying ship his parents had, only this wasn't a whimsical magical swan-shaped ship – it was a real ship! Edgar could hardly wait to try it out. He couldn't see any other reason to stay in this oasis and was eager to move on…and what better way to travel than in a flying ship?

But first he had to figure out which way to go. He had no idea how far this desert extended in each direction, nor where each direction would take him. He had to ask someone which way he ought to go. A traveler…

"I want to thank you for your gifts, Gabbro," Edgar said to the tan man who was still sitting beside the shop, "But I also want to ask you one more thing."

"And what's that?"

"This oasis is in the middle of nowhere, as far as I can gather, but I'm on a journey that won't let me stay in one place. I've got to head somewhere else, but I don't know where to go."

"Well, this place isn't exactly in 'the middle,'" Gabbro said. "It's closer to the Impossible Mountains than to Llewdor."

"The Impossible Mountains?" Edgar said, gaping in astonishment at Gabbro's words. "You mean…the Impossible Mountains? The range that borders Tamir?"

"That's the only range that I know of. But as I was saying, the Impossible Mountains, as you probably already know, are so high that no one's ever crossed them. At least…no one I know of. But hey, you're a fairy, aren't you? You should probably be able to cross those mountains like you were crossing a meadow."

"I guess you're right," Edgar shrugged. "What direction are the mountains?"

"Where the moon and sun lay down to rest…" Gabbro said, growing suddenly poetic.

"I meant from here," Edgar said impatiently.

"Oh. Just head straight thataway, between the palm trees," Gabbro said, pointing towards the pool. "That's due west. Keep going that way by whatever magical means you have at your disposal, and you should hit the mountains. Getting up them, however, is another story. Good luck anyway, friend."

"Thanks. Good-bye."

Edgar trudged through the sand, soon finding himself at the pool once again. He gazed westward. There wasn't much in that direction but dunes and darkness, but somewhere out there were the Impossible Mountains. As he continued walking in that direction, he contemplated how remarkable it all was: Llewdor and Tamir were side by side, the landmass they were part of bisected by that mountain range. This land he had been tramping around in was a veritable neighbor to the land he had known as home for most of his life.

How had he managed to wind up here? Fate? Coincidence? When Cassima had told him to visit the oasis, she said that she "just knew it was important." Did she somehow know that he would find out about Llewdor bordering Tamir, or was it something else that she somehow "just knew?" If the latter was the case, Edgar decided that he would eventually find out just what it was.

He paused. He had covered several yards, but he still couldn't see anything but sky in front of him. But wait…there weren't any stars in the lower half of the sky now…something was blotting them out.

The mountains. It had to be. But they seemed so far away…it would take all night to reach them…

…If Edgar walked the entire distance.

The temptation to try out his ship was strong, but Edgar decided to wait until an appropriate moment to do so arose. He didn't want to overtax the ship's magic and wear it out. He decided to try his other method of transportation across moderate distances – his pendant. It wouldn't take him directly to the mountains, but it would help shorten the time it took to get to them considerably.

Edgar picked out the farthest dune that was visible to him, which was almost a mile away. He was there in the blink of an eye, the oasis now a little dot towards the east. He thought himself to another distant dune, then another. The mountains were growing more and more distinct, becoming less like silhouettes and more like jagged peaks, their tops hidden in a strange dark mist.

Finally, about ten minutes after departing the Llewdor Oasis, Edgar found himself at the base of the Impossible Mountains. The gigantic peaks abruptly jutted straight out of the sand like daggers through skin. They were a dull, craggy gray, with no soil or vegetation dotting them, even hundreds of feet up their slopes. Their sides were so steep that they appeared almost vertical, yet Edgar was determined to scale them, and he had just such an object that would enable him to do so.

He carefully removed the magic ship from his pocket and laid it on the sandy ground, then quickly stepped back. The little ship rose into the air, stopping about eighteen inches off the ground, then quickly began to grow. In a few seconds, it had almost doubled in size.

"All right!" Edgar said triumphantly. "It's working! It's…"

He paused. The ship had reached a length of about four feet, then suddenly stopped growing. Edgar waited for a few moments in the hopes that this was just a temporary lag in its growth, even urging the ship to do what Leticia claimed that it would do, but with a sinking feeling, he realized that this was as big as this ship was going to get.

Apparently the ship did work, but not completely. Perhaps this was the reason for the faintness in its magic – perhaps the magic had drained from it as it sat in that shop, or perhaps the man who sold it to Leticia had removed most of its power. As disappointed as Edgar was with his purchase, though, he just couldn't bring himself to go back to the oasis and return it to Leticia. But still, this ship was his only way of continuing west. How was he going to get out of this one?

Edgar examined his puny ship. It was about two-thirds as long as he was tall, but despite its small size, it still looked amazingly sturdy. Still, unless he found a way to make himself two inches tall, there was no way he could ride this ship…

…Or was there?

A wild idea suddenly struck Edgar. He approached the ship, then carefully placed a foot on its stern, being careful not to snap the mizzenmast. The tiny craft remained aloft in the air. He then shuffled closer and with great trepidation, stepped onto the ship, placing his other foot on its bow. It barely even sagged under its weight.

He was standing on a flying ship. A skyship. The thought made him a little dizzy with amazement. But how could he control such a tiny ship? Could he control it with his thoughts, like his pendant? Or did he have to somehow manipulate it with his feet? He tried shifting his body forward just slightly. The ship began slowly moving forward in response. He leaned back slightly and pushed down with the leg on the aft side of the ship. It stopped dead. He looked upwards and began mentally urging the ship to rise, which it did, slowly at first, then higher and higher.

Suddenly, Edgar became disoriented. He flailed his arms wildly, but it was too late. He lost his balance and toppled from the skyship. It wasn't a long fall, but it was a painful one. He stood up, brushed the sand from his clothes and saw the ship hovering above the ground several feet away – at least it hadn't continued rising, Edgar thought.

He thought he had solved one problem, but now another had popped up. How was he going to keep himself from falling off that ship? There had to be some way to keep his feet from slipping, some way to strap them down so that…

Strap them down? A dull ache in Edgar's temple reminded him of the foot straps that the oasis's sage had so kindly "given" to him. If he fasted the foot straps to the ship…why, of course! They would be perfect!

Edgar took out the foot straps and began carefully bucking them to the ship. Unfortunately, he snapped all three of the skyship's masts in the process, but thankfully, this had no discernable effect on the ship's performance. After he was finished fastening the straps, he remounted the skyship, slipping his boots through the iron loops that now gleamed atop it. His feet fit the loops perfectly, and when he urged the skyship upwards this time, he didn't even wobble. His stomach was quivering and his nerves were jangling, but he was so spellbound by the experience of riding a miniature ship through the night sky that he didn't have time to feel frightened. Apparently size didn't always matter when it came to things like this.

After continuing skyward for several hundred feet, he spied a huge gap between two of the mountain peaks. It was as if he had just set out astride a new horse and he had just discovered a wide, clear trail. Caught up in the excitement of the moment, Edgar urged his skyship forwards, and he shot through the great divide like an arrow, his cloak flapping wildly behind him.

Controlling the skyship turned out to come as natural to Edgar as breathing. It was as if the skyship was part of him, and he could manipulate it with incredible ease. He began trying out fancy swoops and zigzags as he flew through the barren, near-featureless mountains. A great sense of freedom and happiness filled him as he traveled onwards with the speed of a swooping hawk.

Presently, he noticed a narrow gorge ahead of him. He quickly slowed down and entered the gorge at a much more controlled rate. As he was carefully gliding through the chasm, there was a sudden flash of light and a loud, sonorous sound like a thunderclap. There was even a strange pulsation in the air that almost pushed him backwards, like an invisible tidal wave. He reeled uncontrollably for a moment on his skyship before bringing it to a halt, panting and looking about nervously.

Something was different. The air seemed a bit warmer than it had a moment ago. The crags of the surrounding mountainsides seemed slightly different in shape. If Edgar had been able to see the stars through the strange mist overhead, they would have probably been in different positions as well, but when Edgar noticed the gnarled tree growing out of the rock face, his heart began to pound.

That tree had been there before that strange flash and the loud noise, but it had been fairly large then, as if it had been growing there for a decade or two. Now it looked young enough to pass off as a sapling. Edgar stared at the bare rock walls that surrounded him, trying to find a logical explanation to what had just happened. Perhaps that flash had made the tree grow younger, but that wouldn't explain the subtle differences in the air and the mountains that Edgar was suddenly feeling. Could it be that he had somehow passed through some sort of window that…

…No. No, it couldn't be. He couldn't have stepped into the past. It was impossible.

Edgar gazed up at the peaks that surrounded him and reflected on the irony of his choice of words. Perhaps the Impossible Mountains weren't as impossible as their name implied. Whatever had happened a few minutes ago, he wasn't going to find out what it was here. He could only hope that somehow, someway, he would learn the answer.

As he was preparing to continue up the gorge, something caught between the young tree's branches caught his attention. He floated closer to it and discovered that it was a fourth trinket. Like the first one that the Crystal Dragon had given him, it had a white pattern painted on it, but unlike the first trinket, it had a pale blue gem set in it – probably a turquoise, Edgar surmised.

Even more puzzled than before, Edgar dislodged the trinket from the tree's branches and continued making his way up the gorge at a much more sedate rate. The night's activities were starting to tire him, and hopefully he would find a spot to sleep somewhere in these inhospitable mountains.

As if in reply, the gorge came to a dead end that forced him to fly higher in the hopes of finding a way out of it. He soon was able to see several mountains in the distance, and winding its way through several of them was a tiny, rocky path. Edgar decided to follow it – on skyship rather than by foot – and he did so for some distance as it twisted and turned through the bleak gray peaks. He wondered how old the path was and whether it was created by humans or by other creatures that had once inhabited this region. Such thoughts were becoming more difficult for him as his exhaustion became greater and greater.

Finally, the path widened slightly, forming a small, flat clearing, which was surrounded by sheer rock walls on all sides, yet still looked like a good place to sleep. Edgar brought his skyship low enough to the ground to dismount it, then wondered how to return it back to its original size. He tried mentally commanding the skyship to do so, and it obediently began shrinking, the foot straps flopping loosely to the side as it did. Satisfied, Edgar removed the straps from the much-reduced skyship and tucked all of them safely away. This ship was probably the most useful thing he had ever bought. He would have to take good care of it if he expected it to keep working.

Now to attend to the matter of sleep. Edgar found what looked like a fairly comfortable slab of rock, took off his cloak and folded it to serve as his pillow. He then gratefully lay down on the cold, hard ground, but despite the less than optimal comfort of his bed, he was asleep within moments.

As Edgar slept, fleeting visions that were barely coherent enough to be called dreams flitted across the surface of his consciousness, visions of all that had taken place so far, all that he thought was going on in his homeland, and all that he thought Rosella was doing in his absence.

Rosella.

The image of her entered his mind and stayed there. As he thought of her and her golden hair, her beautiful laugh and sky blue eyes, his pendant began to glow brightly. He didn't notice this at first, but soon the glow became so intense that he had to open his eyes…and when he did, there she was.

She was lying on the bare, rocky ground next to him, clad in her nightclothes, staring at him. With a distant, dreamy look in her eyes, she nonchalantly raised her hand and began reaching towards Edgar, who, almost without thinking, did the same. Their fingertips grew closer and closer together, approaching as slowly as two leaves drifting towards each other on the surface of a pond. Unfortunately, just as they were about to touch, the horrible truth that this was only a dream dawned on Edgar. He sprang awake with a gasp, then looked achingly at the empty spot where Rosella had been.

Although Edgar had no way of knowing, however, far away in a different time and place, Rosella had slept restlessly in her large canopy bed, and in a semiconscious state had turned over to see Edgar lying beside her. When she had tried to touch him, however, something had caused her to wake up to a bed that was as empty as it had been when she had fallen asleep in it. It was odd, though, for the place where she had seen Edgar lying was sunken and rumpled, looking very much as if another person had been sleeping there.

Edgar rose late the following morning, feeling quite stiff and uncomfortable. He refastened his cloak around his neck and painfully rose to his feet. He was too sore to attempt riding the skyship again, so he had to walk along the path for a few minutes to get most of the aches out of his body. The path seemed to be meandering through the peaks with no destination in mind, and Edgar was starting to ponder the soundness of following it further.

Still, since he had no destination in mind either, he unpacked his skyship, placed it on the ground, buckled the foot straps onto it, gingerly slipped his boots through the loops, and once again he was soaring through the barren cliffs, wondering why he had ever wished he could have wings.

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