The wizard's revenge 7/11

Back at the George and Dragons the crowd were dispersing sadly. Jennifer Jane was popular amongst the villagers but if she’d gone to Smallport there was nothing they could do, most of them had never even heard of the place, so the search had to be left to the sailors and witches.

Abigail took Fern on her broom and flew off through the fog to Smallport. She had a feeling that finding Jennifer Jane wasn’t going to be too easy. She was quite right. After asking a lot of people, she at last found someone who thought he’d seen a lad two or three days ago, following one of the captains onto a steamer. Where the steamer was bound he didn’t know.

“Could be anywhere,” he said, “once you’re in the fog you can ask to go anywhere you like. You should know that!”

“I suppose we could go to the Wish Warehouse and check the travel fog wishing registers,” said Abigail.

“It wouldn’t help,” replied Fern, “each of the worlds using the system keeps it’s own register which is administered by the fairy folk of that world. We don’t know the name of the boat or the captain and she could have transferred any number of times without us knowing.”

“I think she must have been kidnapped,” said Abigail, “although I can’t think of anyone who’d want to do so. Why else would she go to Smallport and disappear like that. I’m sure she’s never heard of the place. If she wanted to visit strange worlds I’d have thought she’d go direct, through one of our fogs.”

Fern was feeling too upset to continue her holiday with her new friends on Prudence. Abigail flew her back to the barge so that she could say goodbye and pick up her luggage before taking her back to the goblin boatyard. Norman agreed to ask any of the boats that came in to keep an eye out for the missing apprentice.

“This is going to be the worst bit,” said Abigail, “now I’ve got to go and tell her parents.”
She flew off feeling rather worried at the prospect of an emotional upset with Mary.

She parked her broom in the wood at the end of Jennifer Jane’s garden and walked slowly along to the house. Mary beckoned to her through the kitchen window. The kettle was boiling and Mary proudly presented an almost perfect cherry cake.

“I’m afraid I haven’t really come for tea and cake,” said Abigail sadly. “It’s bad news I’m afraid. Your daughter’s gone missing again and none of us can think of a way to trace where she’s might have got to”.

To her surprise, Mary didn’t seem to be all that worried. “She’s done it before and always managed to get back. I don’t suppose this time will be any different. Dave says she’ll get lost once too often, so it may be a week or so before I see her coming along the garden again but I’m sure she will. It won’t be any worse than the times she goes off camping with the guides.”

Abigail drank her tea and complimented Mary on the improvement in her cake.

“I must be getting on,” she said at last, “I’ve got a lot to do if we’re going to try and get her back home.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you,” said Mary, “she takes after her Dad. She’ll think of a way to get home in due course. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s not enjoying the adventure.”