Zane sat quietly at the table eating her pear tart as the boys told mother and father how they discovered a dragonfly in the garden shed. The sweet treat did little to boost her mood as she wondered if perhaps clouds tasted like pears. When the meal was over and the dishes done, she retreated to her room to curl up in her round bed and sulk. She had worked hard to capture that dragonfly and come so close to her dream. Now she was back where she started, walking like a human who had no wings. A knock at the door preceded her mother coming in with a knowing look.

“That was your dragonfly, wasn’t it?” she asked.

Zane could only nod as her mother sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. She assured Zane that her brothers hadn't let it go to be mean and was proud of her for actually capturing one.

“What did you intend to do with it?” her mother asked as Zane curled into a tight ball.

“I wanted to give it to Webster,” she replied with a sniff. “They are his favorite food.”

“Anything that isn’t fast enough to get away is Webster’s favorite food,” her mother said as she reached down and scooped Zane up. She cradled her to her chest and rocked gently while admonishing Zane for being clever enough to catch one.

“Mother,” Zane said in a gentle voice. “When will I be able to fly?”

“Not for a few years yet,” her mother replied softly. “Most dragonlings don’t fully develop their wings until they are sixteen.”

“Sixteen?” Zane cried and felt even worse. That was a whole lifetime away, and she had barely started this one. Of course, lifetimes never ended, or they don't anymore, but Zane couldn't believe she would have to wait so long.

“You can’t wait to fly, can you?” her mother asked.

“I just want to fly like you do,” Zane said as she snuggled in. “I want to spread my wings and taste the clouds.”

“Hmm,” her mother replied and gently rubbed her head. “Did you know that dark clouds taste different than white ones?”

“They do?” Zane asked in surprise.

“They do,” her mother said. “And the higher you go, the flavor changes, but what you really want to taste is a rainbow.”

“A rainbow?” Zane repeated as her mind was lost to wonder. “Do all the colors taste different?”

“Every single one,” her mother assured her.

“Too bad Lorris is going to fly first. He will taste everything and tell me all about it. Nothing will be a surprise when I can finally do it,” Zane protested.

“You really like surprises,” Her mother said with a knowing nod. “I didn’t care for them so much when I was little. In fact, coming to this world was a bit of an unwanted surprise. I wanted to go home for a while, but then I met your father, and he showed me how wonderful this home could be.”

“Do you like surprises now?” Zane asked as she looked up into her mother's deep red eyes.

“I suppose I do, and do you know what? You are my favorite surprise,” her mother said with a wide smile. “And seeing your face is my greatest joy.”

“I’m glad you’re my mother,” Zane said and reached out with a big hug. “I just wish I could fly before Lorris did so he couldn’t spoil everything.”

Her mother set her back in the bed and tucked her into the covers. She stroked her head a few more times, then leaned over with a gentle kiss.

“Sleep tight, my little dragonling,” her mother said. “And don't let the boys bother you. I promise you have something they will never have and couldn't hope to spoil.”

“I do?” Zane asked before letting out a big yawn.

“You do. Now go to sleep and dream one of your amazing dreams,” her mother said and left the room.

Zane woke from a particularly vivid dream where she was living in a tree that was so tall the clouds passed through it. She was the tree's protector and queen of all the winged creatures that called the tree their home. It was a silly dream because, in it, she was a dragon like her mother with wings as bright as gold.

With a yawn and a stretch, she clambered out of bed to sit by the window. Her mother arrived a few moments later to help her dress and brush her hair. She suggested Zane wear her new sun hat and helped her adjust it just right. Then they gathered around the kitchen table as the boys asked for cookies and pie. Zane knew better than to make such a silly request. Her mother served sweets before afternoon tea and certainly never for breakfast. They were given bacon and eggs instead, and judging by how they devoured them, that must have been what they wanted all along.

After breakfast, Zane snuck off to wander the house. She went to the red hall and ran as fast as she could but couldn't reach the end before all the doors were out. Instead, she used one on the right and entered what her mother called the sitting room. It looked like what she imagined any room designed for sitting would. There was a big plush couch and some additional chairs padded with cushions. Paintings of faraway places and towering bookcases covered the walls on every side. The floor was made of dark wood, but most of it was under an enormous woven rug filled with intricate patterns. A few low tables and potted plants filled out the decorations but what truly dominated the room was the great hearth. It was made of black stone smooth as glass and streaked with lines of gold. Father said they quarried the stone far to the north, where her mother's minions did most of the work. Zane was always concerned that she would have to dig stones one day; after all, her father always called her his little minion.

Zane crept across the room and headed for the relatively plain hallway beyond it. This short dusty corridor went to one last closet of a room that contained nothing but an open archway and a warning carved into the wall.

“None shall pass this way save those blessed with my blood and aged by sixteen passings,” Zane read aloud and then peered into the mysterious archway. Beyond was a room filled with wonders, from floating orbs that gave off a white mist to strange crystals that glowed with vibrant colors. Books of every shape and size filled shelves along one wall, with a few laid out in special containers or wrapped with metal bars. There was a rack full of magical staffs and a special mount over a fireplace for mother's scythe. A few chests of gold and treasure stood in the corner, but the center of the room was the most spectacular. Here the floor was decorated with silver lines and magical symbols that often glowed briefly and then faded away. This ring of lines was surrounded by tables her mother referred to as workstations where she would craft many of the wonders found in the house. A metal door on the far side led to the vault where some of the most unique or dangerous things were kept but what held Zane's attention was a glass cabinet by the chest. Inside it were various little things, put on display as curiosities, and it was here she could see several white figurines.

This was her mother's study and a place she was forbidden to go. To ensure the room wasn't tampered with, her mother placed an enchantment on the archway that prevented access. Under normal circumstances, only her parents and Webster could enter the space. However, Zane had once seen mother sing a little song to the archway and allow auntie Quinny to pass.

Zane stood before the archway and reached out with a hand. She felt a wall as solid as stone even though she could see nothing under her fingertips. With a determined stance, she tried to recall the song her mother sang and clumsily recreated it. She reached out again, but the barrier was still there, so she tried over and over, singing to make it go away.

“What are you doing, Zany?” came her brother Lorris’s annoying voice.

She turned to see Lorris and Gerris standing in the hall and smiling as if catching her at something they could tell on. Her older brother was almost a full head taller, and of course, his horns were already showing through his short brown hair. Mother said he was thin as a bean pole, whatever that means, and he could smile so that you were sure he had just played a prank on you. Gerris was almost as tall as she was but a little less bold. He and Lorris were inseparable and delighted in reminding Zane that they would do everything first.

“None of your business,” Zane replied defiantly and stood tall against the intrusion.

“You can’t get into mothers study,” he laughed and leaned against the wall.

“Neither can you,” Zane replied and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You will never get that figurine to peck me.”

“Ha,” Lorris replied and shook his head. “Shows what you know. I don’t have to get into the room because I have something to get it for me.”

“No, you don't!” Zane protested, but Lorris only smiled wider as if the joke was on her. He turned to Gerris and asked him to confirm his plan, and Gerris nodded vigorously. Zane still didn't believe him, but he was perhaps even more devious than her. Father said he took after their mother in how he often found ways around the rules. He dared her to keep trying and then let her in on his little secret. He would have the figurine in exactly two days, and then she would have to keep a hat on all day.

“You’re mean,” Zane accused and remembered what her mother said about mean people. “And mother says that mean people always get what is coming to them.”

“No, I'm brave, and father says that fortune favors the brave,” he replied until Gerris cut him off and reminded him that it was fortune favors the bold. “Brave, bold, it's all the same,” Lorris protested and turned away. “Common, let’s give Zaney some space to waste her time singing like a frog.”

“I do not sing like a frog!” Zane protested, but her brothers just walked away, leaving her to fume. She waited until they were gone and tried the song again, but the barrier remained to taunt her. With a heavy heart, she gave up and went back to the sitting room to throw herself on the plush couch. Facedown, she flapped her little wings and tapped her tail on the cushions as she wondered how Lorris was going to get the figurine.

It was true that her mother was famously known as a rule-breaker, and occasionally guests came to the house to talk to her about it. Zane listened to several of these conversations, but she didn't really understand much of what was said. All she knew for sure was that bad people made some bad rules and her mother set out to break every one of them. She forced them to deal with her before she broke the world again, and when they did, she had them trapped.

“I wish I was as smart as mother,” Zane sighed and rolled to her side as something on the nearby table caught her eye. It was the book her mother was reading from the other day, the one she called her journal. Zane sat up and eyed the mysterious book, wondering if it would be alright to touch it. After all, her mother had never said she couldn't, but that didn't always mean it was allowed. Then, with a glance around the room to make sure she wasn't being watched, Zane approached the dark blue tome and carefully picked it up.

“I wonder if mother wrote the song in here someplace?” she questioned before flipping through a few pages. The book was full of stories written like memories about times and places from her mother's past. Zane marveled at full-page pictures depicting scenes of faraway places where strange people looked back as if they were watching. Some featured pictures of aunt Quinny and Breanne, and a few showed Webster and Mother when she had red hair. She continued to flip pages, not really understanding what she was reading when Webster jumped on the couch beside her.

“Oh, you scared me,” Zane said as she looked up from the book. She held it up for him to see and tapped at a picture of her mother with three eyes. “Where you there when she looked like that?”

He bobbed in a yes and let out a little squeak before tapping the page with a furry arm. Zane flipped a few more and found a closeup of aunt Breanne. Zane always thought aunt Breanne was pretty with her pointy ears and sharp features. Mother said she was an elf and a powerful banshee, but Zane had no idea what that meant.

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A hundred pages went by, and Zane found no hint of the mysterious song. However, she did find references to other rooms and pictures of some she had yet to discover.

“Do you know where these rooms are?” Zane asked in wonder as Webster bobbed that he did. “Can you show Tildy and I were…” she paused and looked over the text. “The mausoleum is?” He bobbed again and jumped down, tapping at her leg to follow. “Wait, I need to get Tildy first!” Zane squealed, eager to have a new adventure but unwilling to go without her lizard woman warrior friend. She agreed to meet him in an hour and rushed through the house and into the yard.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” her father asked as she ran past.

“I want to play with Tildy,” Zane replied with a big smile. “We’re going on an adventure.”

Her mother and father laughed before cautioning her not to get her new hat dirty. Zane promised and ran through the gate, heading down the stone path and turning left to go to Tildy's house. It was just a good walk down the road where a clump of trees with massive trunks grew. Tildy's family were all lizard people, and her father was something called a nature walker. Her mother was particularly good with something called a spear, and Tildy said she was a gladiator and used to compete in arenas. They lived in what Zane's mother called a magical pocket, hidden behind a door in the center of the grove. The door was hard to find if you didn't know where to look, but Zane had been here many times before. She liked how dark the forest was and how ferns and green things carpeted the floor. The tree at the center was old beyond telling and covered in green moss and tiny flowers.

There was a large stone set out in a gap between the leaves where Tildy's parents would often sit to soak up the warm light. Today was no exception, and Zane found Tildy sitting with her parents as her mother wove flowers into her horns.

“Well, good morning, Zane,” Tildy's mother called. “How are your parents?”

“Father is back from his travels and brought me a crystal dragon,” Zane said proudly.

“Oh, and where did you get that lovely hat?” she asked.

Zane suddenly remembered the hat and stood tall to say he got her that too. It was just like the hat her mother wore when she tended the garden, and Zane would soon be helping her. She then asked if Tildy could come to play and go on an adventure. Tildy's parents wished them good luck as Tildy jumped down and hurried to join Zane.

“What are we playing?” Tildy asked as they hurried down the path.

“A new room!” Zane said excitedly and explained how she was reading her mother's journal and discovered that there were places in the house she had never been. Tildy couldn't believe there was more to find but was anxious to see what it contained. She then asked how they were going to find an unknown room and Zane explained how Webster was going to show them.

They returned to the house to find Webster waiting, and he took them to the red hall. They tried once again to outrun the doors, but the effort was as futile as before. Heading for the end door and into the tower, they stood a the center as Webster to a chirp and little dance.

“What is he doing?” Tildy asked as he turned in a circle.

“I don't know,” Zane admitted when the tower began to move all of a sudden. To their utter amazement, it turned the opposite way and, instead of going up, began to descend.

“It goes down?” Tildy said excitedly as door after door appeared on the spiraling stairs.

“Look at all the doors,” Zane exclaimed and pointed to one painted bright yellow.

“Look at that one!” Tildy added and pointed to a metal one that looked like green scales. “Sheesh, how big is your house?”

Much to their surprise, there were far more doors going down than up, and she wondered what secrets they must contain. Suddenly the movement stopped, and they arrived at a door that looked rather plain. It was wood with a metal ring to pull it open and a small grate near the floor.

“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble for being here?” Tildy asked as they approached the mysterious door.

“My parents have never even mentioned this place,” Zane admitted as her curiosity went wild.

“Then maybe we should ask for permission,” Tildy suggested, but Zane wasn't convinced. After all, there were places she wasn't supposed to go, and her parents were very clear about them. Since they hadn't mentioned this or any of the other rooms at all, she could only assume it was alright. With a brave face, she approached the door and took the ring in hand. Webster scurried along with them and tapped at the door as if telling them to open it.

“Here goes,” Zane said and pulled, producing a groaning creak. They stepped back as the door came open to reveal a dark passage lit by flickering torches.

“It looks like a dungeon,” Tildy said as they peered into the shadows. “I don’t know about this.”

“There wouldn’t be a dungeon in our house,” Zane said but had second thoughts as Webster scurried into the hall ahead of them. She took courage in the fact that he wasn't afraid and followed him in with a cautious step. Tildy was close behind, and the two huddled together as the tunnel widened into a towering hall of cut stone and massive pillars. Spiderwebs hung in the corners, and a layer of dust covered the floor, which was very unlike her mother. Still, Webster hurried on, going straight down the hall as if nothing were the matter.

“This place is spooky,” Tildy said as they followed the spider.

“Why would my parents not tell me about this?” Zane asked as a doorway flanked by two brass bowls burning with fire came into view.

“They probably didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you down here,” Tildy insisted. “I just know we are going to get in trouble.”

Zane tried to be reasonable, explaining that her mother would have protected the door if they were not allowed. Since the door was so easily opened and Webster happy to show them the way, she could only assume it was safe. Tildy took little assurance from that argument but kept on as they entered the dark doorway and stepped out into a flight of steps.

“Wow!” Zane gasped as she looked up into a cave so massive she couldn't see the far walls. Before them was a road of paved tiles that ran in a gentle curve following one of the walls. To either side of the tiles were tombstones and graves of every shape and size. It was a veritable forest of stone markers and the biggest graveyard she had ever seen. Above their heads was a gloom lost to darkness that massive stalactites hung out of like teeth. Gnarled and leafless trees grew in a few places, as did a strange assortment of dark vines with blood-red roses. Mists crawled along the ground, and the whole place seemed to be bathed in a perpetual moonlight. Webster jumped down the steps to arrive a the tiled road, then waved his limbs to signify that this was it.

“Why do your parents have a massive graveyard?” Tildy asked.

“I don't know, but does this remind you of the story my mother told us?” Zane replied as she thought of cookies and tea the other day.

“It does,” Tildy agreed as they dared to descend the steps, joining Webster on the path below as he waited for them. “Do you think it’s safe to explore?”

“Webster, is it safe to be here?” Zane asked and was relieved when the spider bobbed in a yes. The two looked at one another and decided to at least approach some of the stones. Together they stepped through the mist to see names and dates that meant nothing to them. They explored all the way to the wall finding that much of it was carved into small buildings with stone doors they couldn't open. Many were plain-looking, but a few had steps or even metal bowls of their own through their fires were long since burned out. Along the strange road, they found a light pole with a magical greenish glow that danced about like fireflies in a bowl.

They began to grow brave and explored the other direction, walking deeply into rows of stones. In places, they found open graves, some just bare shafts, and others with a mound of soil and shovel as if freshly dug. There was an old gazebo on a hill just ahead, and they crept along like shadows to see what mysteries it held.

“I wonder if this is a lost city,” Tildy said as they dared to ender under the gazebo’s dome.

“A city for the dead,” Zane said as she looked over the yard. “My mother once said that the dead fought at her call. I wonder if this is what she meant.”

“Maybe this is her army,” Zane said excitedly. “Waiting here to be called again.”

It sounded plausible to Zane, but something about it felt off. Her mother enjoyed bright colors and clean spaces. She would never have allowed this place to become so dusty, and she would almost certainly have planted more flowers. This felt more like her father, as he liked quiet and lonely places. From the gazebo floor, they could see the graveyard went on and on until it ended at the stonewall about waist high. She and Tildy headed for the wall, disturbing the mist as Webster followed.

“What do you think is beyond that wall?” Tildy asked as they drew closer and noticed a strange light.

“It must be something important,” Zane said excitedly as the adventure became even more grand and exciting.

Slowly they approached to see the light was coming from someplace beyond the wall, and with curious eyes, they peeked over to see a cliff that fell deep into the earth. It was lit from below by a red light making it one of the brightest places in the graveyard. Along the sides were tunnels and caves, some with bridges that reached across and others just ledges that ran along the edge. They marveled to see what looked like buildings along a road that ran down one side with more of the strange lamps to illuminate the lane.

“It is a lost city!” Tildy said in awe as something crunched behind them.

“Whose their?” they squealed and turned about with backs pressed to the wall. Somehow the mist had grown thicker, and now it obscured their sight beyond a few rows of stones.

“Who dares trespass in the twilight gardens?” a voice asked from somewhere in the darkness.

“I told you we shouldn’t have come here!” Tildy said in fear as the mist before them seemed to shift.

Zane felt her heart begin to race, but Webster didn't seem bothered as he turned and bounced as if happy to see who was speaking. With that to bolster her nerve, she stood up and announced her name. She was Zane, the daughter of Heather and Frank, the great heroes of the land.

“So you think yourself as brave as they were?” the voice asked as a shadow moved in the mist. As the two watched, the form took shape, and they realized there were two. One was a tall, slender shape with a staff in one hand and a broad hat. The other was a giant with long arms that went all the way to the ground. They could hear a ticking noise as if something were being tapped against a stone.

“I am brave,” Zane protested but tried to step back. “I will tell my father on you if you keep scaring us!”

Suddenly the voice changed to gentle laughter as a pair of yellow eyes appeared on the giant shadow. The mist suddenly parted as if blown in a great wind to reveal a woman with long golden hair wearing a peaked hat with a wide brim. She carried a staff of gnarled wood that was capped by dark crystals that glowed with a faint purple light. Beside her was a giant of gray rubber skin and bulging muscles. He had long arms that ended in sharp claws that looked as if they could tear stone. His face was narrow and gaunt with slits for a nose and pointed ears with jagged edges. The most telling feature was his empty yellow eyes, glowing with an almost lifeless luminance.

“Mother! Father!” Zane cried as she trembled. “You scared us!”

“I scared you?” her mother questioned as she took on an angry expression. “Imagine my surprise to discover that not only has my daughter found the graveyard, but she had decided that the best place to play is along the edge of the cliff.”

“We were just looking over the wall,” Tildy tried to say, but Heather shook her head that she would have none of it. “You two could have fallen to your deaths, and then I would have nobody to listen to my stories at tea time.”

“We were just going on an adventure,” Zane insisted as she looked down, ashamed that she was in trouble.

“Zane,” her father began as he stepped forward. “Playing at adventure is one thing, but standing at the edge of a cliff is another. You are lucky this place is protected by magic that alerts me when somebody trespasses. I hate to think of you two being down here for hours and our not knowing where you were.”

“What is this place?” Tildy dared to ask as she stepped forward with her tail swishing nervously.

“This is my garden,” Frank replied and held up his arms. “The twilight gardens of old eldrith.”

“Old eldrith?” Zane repeated the unfamiliar name.

“It’s a place from long ago, even before your father and I were here. We learned about it in our travels and recreated it from sketches in an old book,” her mother answered and walked up to the girls. “Now then, how much have you seen?”

“Just the entrance and the gazebo,” Zane admitted as her mother nodded. “Well, why don’t we let your father give us the tour then. It is his private space after all.”

“You mean it?” Zane asked excitedly and had another thought. “Did I find this before Lorris and Gerrin?”

“Yes, daughter,” her mother laughed. “You get to be first.”

“Yay!” the girls cried and ran up to hug Heather at the waist. Heather nodded and patted their heads before turning her gaze on the spider as her smile widened. “I am blaming you for this,” she said as Webster curled into a ball and tried to hide in the mist. “Don't you play that game with me,” Heather scolded. “I know they didn't get here without your help.”

Her father laughed and swept up the girls to carry them on his shoulders. He told a story of how he used to carry her mother so they could talk and be close on their travels.

“You occasionally carried aunt Quinny as well,” Heather said as she gave him a smile. “That made me very jealous.”

“I only ever had eyes for you,” he insisted and laughed as they walked back to the road. He then took them down the path, explaining the buildings along the wall were called mausoleums and were usually made to contain the remains of a very special dead person. Of course, this was just a recreation of a graveyard, and no real people were buried here. However, since he was a ghoul, he was technically undead and, as such, needed a place like this to build his strength.

“So you need the graveyard?” Tildy asked.

“All undead need a graveyard or other place to harness their full power,” father Frank said. “For example, Quinny has barrow mounds in her forest that act like old tombs. Breanne haunts a lonely moor and the surrounding lands. Lydia has her castle high in the mountain pass and acts as the gateway to our domain.”

“Do you have to haunt anything?” Zane asked as she looked at her mother.

“No, dear. I am not undead, though I came pretty close to being one,” she admitted.

Frank went on with the tour, taking them down the road until they reached a great circular plaza A stone he called a monolith rose up like a spike whose top glowed with a green haze. A single green rune burned on the surface about halfway up, flickering in the dim light. He explained that this was a form of clock, and the runes would change as time went by, slowly climbing the stone until they reached the top at midnight.

“What happens when they reach the top?” Tildy asked.

Heather leaned in close with eyes wide with wonder. She threw her arms out in a flourish and explained that at midnight this plaza became part of another graveyard, and you could step from here to there in the blink of an eye. But if you didn't come back before the first rune started at the bottom, you would be stuck there until the following midnight.

“Is it safe to do?” Zane asked.

“I wouldn't recommend it,” father said and carried them on. They arrived at a sort of church with vines growing on crumbling walls and broken stained glass. Father explained that this acted as his focal point and a way for him to earn experience. He took them inside to see the ruins of once ornate benches and old statues along the walls. At the far end was an open pit of loose soil where he said he buried his victories so they could turn into points.

“What does that mean?” Zane asked as Tildy nodded in agreement.

“It's a little advanced for you just yet,” father said. “One day, your mother and I will teach you all about it, and depending on the choices you make, you might just need a focus of your own.”

“Will I need one?” Tildy asked as they looked at the pit and wondered what treasures were buried below.

“I think your parents would prefer you followed in one of their paths,” Heather said and patted the lizard girl's leg. “Your parents are both very accomplished fighters.”

“Well, I want to be a rogue,” Tildy declared as she tossed her head. “I can stick to walls and climb over them to steal all the treasures.”

“Ha,” Frank laughed and commented that she did indeed have a useful skill for the class. He took them on as the tiled road began to descend a gentle hill. They passed all sorts of wonders, from underground waterfalls to floating tombs anchored to the ground by chains. Her father was full of stories about old graveyards and ancient places, explaining how he always wanted to build one that encompassed everything. They eventually arrived at a towering gate cut into the rock before which stood two massive stone statues.

“And here is where our journey ends,” her mother said as they stood before the statues. “The space beyond these doors is every bit as private as my study. I don’t want to find out you even so much as put a hand on those gates.”

Zane looked up at the gates that were large enough for a giant to pass and wondered how she would even open them. They promised never to try and enter but were a little disappointed they hadn't gotten to see the city, which must be beyond them. Her father made a promise in return that one day when she was older, he would take them to see it, but only when they were ready.

They went back up the road and returned to the entrance as mother explained how father once had a very small graveyard. She then paused with a little smile and asked the girls if they wanted to have some fun. With bobbing heads, they all agreed, and her mother tapped her staff twice, causing it to vanish in a puff of smoke. She then declared the graveyard to be the boundary for a game of hide and seek and encouraged the girls to hide.

With giggling laughs, they ran off, seeking a safe haven from the witch and ghoul that would be hunting them. It was a fun end to a fun adventure in the magical house of Heather the Necromancer.