Chloe plummeted towards the ground at an astounding rate. A shadow moth glider did little to slow her descent from Dedlam Asylum. "Why isn't this thing working?!" she cried with her eyes screwed shut. Then a thought, faster than the crack of a gun shot through her head. "Duh."

She lifted her hands like the wingspan of a bird and soared back up into the sky. Even the battering wind and rain and the ensuing turbulance did not prevent her ascension. She was still fraught with emotion and she shivered in the frigidness of the late afternoon downpour.

The countryside was wraught with a dense wall of fog. Fortunately for her, there was no way they could see which way she flew and she could easily make a break for it in town. She breathed easy for the first time as her glide stabilized.

But unprovoked, her fingers began to twitch uncontrollably as she hovered closer and closer to town. Gruesome images flashed in her brain. The shadow draped Fienmond standing over her body with a writhing demon's eye in his grip. The cries of her parents to leave her alone before he silenced them forever.

A raspy, deep yet sultry voice whispered in her ears, "Child...I could easily make you tear this glider from your arms and drop you flat on the ground, splattering you like a delicious flapjack."

Chloe nearly hyperventilated over hearing Rosemary's icy purr warn her of her possible demise.

"But I won't…" she said, her whisper making Chloe's hair stand on end. "You are my vessel and as long as things remain as they are, I will be stuck inside your diminutive, child body."

"What do you want with me?" Chloe said sternly but mannered. She'd normally tell Rosemary to sink herself six feet under the ocean, but she could not anger the demonic flapper while she was gliding several feet above the ground.

"You are to obey my commands when I tell you them…" Rosemary said, causing Chloe's hands to seize into fists. "You are to get off this island, away from the people who are looking to kill you--us."

This proved to be too much for the young Queen when she heard Rosemary's obvious demand. It pushed her straight off the precipice of sarcasm.

"Well la dee da," Chloe grimaced as rain continued to soak through her blouse. "What do you think I was doing before you tried to get me to nosedive headfirst into the ground."

Rosemary pointed Chloe's body at the ground. "Test me, child, and you're very welcome to an early grave."

Chloe soared towards the cobblestone pavement of the Market Square at breakneck speeds. She screamed loudly and cried...admittedly, a bit too high and loudly than she'd like to admit. But before she splattered, Rosemary pulled her arms up like a marionette and caused her to land safely in a puddle of mud.

"Even if I can't kill you," the demon eyeball laughed mirthfully. "You do make a great little wind-up toy to play with."

"Rosemary," Chloe growled, face down in the mud. "Wind me up too far and we're both gonna wind-up dead."

"Oh ho ho," Rosemary's sinister cackle circled around her head as Chloe bathed in the dirty water like a drowned rat in a drainpipe. "You remind me of my sister. She was the firebrand while I was the sickly one, always fainting and dying in bed. You'll do just nicely."

"Now get us out of this no-woman's land," Rosemary commanded, as Chloe shook the mud and rain from her face. "And I will lie inside you until you are needed again. You're only slightly more than an object to me."

Like a miserable wretch, Chloe pulled herself up out of the mud, shivering and muttering. She had no idea where to go or what to do until she saw a sign that reflected brightly in the rain. A single candle in a foggy window illuminated an "Open" sign. Upon reading it, she realized it was the only place left to go.

Chloe walked out of the rain and into the warmth of Satyr Styles, home of the GOAT of fashion.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The young queen soaked up the warmth of the central heating in the always debonair Satyr Styles. Rows upon rows of elegant robes, overcoats, dresses and hats imported from the finest wormweave silk were layed out in an easily navigatable fashion. Mannequins hawked the latest fashions involving feathered hats and matching feather boas. Admittedly, the images of feathery boas struck nervousness into the young Chloe due to their lounge singer association.

As the golden bells rang on the front door, a mannered and suave voice answered, "Hello, yes hello? Who enters my shop on such a dismal day?"

Chloe was silent, but slowly, she peeked out from behind a clothing rack. Sitting behind the counter, she saw Ramone the GOAT fashionista, playing with his elegantly combed goatee. He was half-goat and half-man with a black tuxedo and matching dark horns rising out of his silver head of hair.

The town's fashionista was a good friend to her and never ratted her out whenever she snuck out of the palace into town. Surely, he'd hear about the recent coup on her throne. As much as she didn't trust adults, Ramone was always such a good listener when she spoke to him.

"Bah! I say!" he screamed upon seeing Chloe covered entirely in mud. "I will not have some tiny child mucking about….literally...in my shop! Get out!"

"Wait Ramone!" Chloe cried. "It's me! Chloe!"

Ramone's bushy white eyebrows raised so high, Chloe was nearly afraid they'd float away like newly transformed butterflies.

"Queen Annabell?! What are you doing here and in such a sordid state."

"Well," the girl queen answered, "We don't have much time, but I've got a story for you that involves treason, unwanted eye surgery and a lounge singer from the depths of hell itself."

Ramone immediately fetched a rag. "Ooh yes," he said with a knowing smile. " You always tell such wonderous stories, your majesty, and you know, I'm always down for some T. Now would you like earl grey or camomile?"

"No time!" Chloe said, and she told him the events that had transpired that hellish afternoon. Ramone grew paler and paler than his white mane as he heard her tale. "Now then," Chloe said with a smirk. "Now that you've heard the story of the century, we gotta run…"

Ramone's eyes widened and he brushed his goat beard, intrigued and slightly dismayed. "What do you mean we?!"

"If they find out you've been harboring the escaped queen of the Mainland, you'll probably be hauled off and cast in the barracks."

"Or even worse," Ramone shivered. "I'll be sent to the barnyard for sure. Heavens knows I'll be someone's goat cheese or slippers! I cannot believe you got yourself and I into such a fine mess, your majesty!"

Well..." he scoffed. "I'm not going. I will not give up my cozy life as the number one tailor in the land. You can go yourself."

Chloe bent her head in sorrow. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

The satyr turned his head. "Nope…"

He crossed his arms. "Hmph…"

Chloe sighed, knowing she was going to have to break out the heavy artillery. Even if she aspired to be the queen of the pirates, she was still a twelve year old girl who hadn't hit her growth spurt yet. She raised her voice with a sparkling, wide tearful eye. "I'm sowwy, Rammy," she said, her lips trembling.

Ramone blew out a gust of air.

***

A tiny rowboat crossed the storm darkened ocean like a miscule cork. As Ramone and Chloe turned the paddles and breathed the salty spray, the satyr muttered, "My mother always said, when you encounter a little girl escaping from an insane asylum and she asks you to come on a journey so she can become queen of a bunch of scoundrels, you just send her on her merry way."

"Did your mother really say that?" Chloe asked, squinting in the foggy mist.

"No," the satyr sighed. "But if she met you, she would have."

"Look at the bright side," Chloe said, as they went over another giant wave. "At least, you're getting some good exercise."

"Unless I die of muscular cramps from eating before a workout," the satyr scoffed. "My pilates class is a much safer source of exercise."

Lightning cracked down the sky like a broken tree, and a boom was short to follow. The sea billowed, churning in the dark maelstrom. Everytime they scaled a wave, another one followed that was even bigger and imposing. "I gotta say, my dear," Ramone said, "You really picked a smashing day for an outing on the sea. Where in sand hill are we headed?"

"Anywhere there's pirates that are ready to submit to me," Chloe said, "And The Underpass is the place."

"T-t-the Underpass?!" Ramone gulped and tried to duck inside the boat. "That wretched pirate city located between those giant rocks on the Western Sea?"

"Yep," Chloe nodded as she pushed the paddles harder. "According to all the castle books, it's known as the closest thing to the capital of piracy. I can guarentee you that the elite of the elite will be willing to serve me, a bonafide pirate queen!"

Ramone whimpered. "Perhaps you are crazy, my queen. The Western Sea is countless miles from here. There's no way we can reach it in a little dingy."

"If we keep paddling," Chloe screamed, throwing her whole back into it. "Anything is possible."

A seering feeling loomed behind her demon eye, and as she pushed and pulled the paddle, she felt Rosemary lending her strength. But all the strength in the world could not prevent the rowboat from disaster. With another rumble, the sky lit up and struck the row boat right down the middle, sending Chloe and Ramone flying. She held on for dear life, clutching onto a piece of driftwood. But the electrical blow had made things hazy, and without warning, she drifted into the unconsciousness.

The last thing she heard was a cry from Ramone. "Young master!"