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The day that Whistler and Lila prepared for their journey into the trees was a beautiful one. The bluffs above the waves were covered with what Pandora called “paintbrush”—hundreds of wildflowers in reds, oranges, and pinks. The sky was sapphire blue. The soft winds were cool and clean.

Pandora helped Lila with her sweater and bonnet while Seabold stood nearby and reminded Whistler of all the rules:

“Watch the compass.

“Never separate.

“And come home when the sun is directly overhead. It will be time for lunch and Pandora is baking tarts.”

“Tarts!” said Whistler. “We shall sniff our way back home!”

“Sniff and watch the compass,” said Seabold.

Lila looked at Seabold as she straightened her bonnet.

“We will be very careful, Seabold,” she said. “We are very good with the compass now.”

“That you are,” said Seabold. “I do believe you could find your way to the North Pole from here.”

“I have a few friends there you might visit,” Pandora said with a smile. “Among them a walrus who sings.”

“Really?” asked Whistler.

“How did you meet a walrus?” asked Lila.

“Oh, he was just passing through,” said Pandora. “And he had a sore throat.”

“Did you help him?” asked Lila.

“A cup of roseroot tea and he was singing like a bell,” said Pandora.

“Well, we aren’t going as far as the North Pole,” said Whistler. “At least not today.”

Pandora smiled again.

“I should hope not,” she said. “One should always come home for tarts.”

“Yes,” said Lila.

Seabold handed the children their twine bags and a walnut flask filled with water.

“The compass,” reminded Seabold.

“Right-o,” said Whistler.

And with a kiss from each on Tiny’s soft head, the two children stepped out the door.

“I think that once we are in the forest, we should search for a fairy ring,” Lila said to Whistler as they walked along the cliff toward the woods.

“What is a fairy ring?” asked Whistler.

“It’s a circle of mushrooms under a tree,” said Lila. “Once, Pandora told me that when she was little, she collected them for her mother. Her mother cooked them into a nice soup.”

“I’m just hoping to look at bugs,” said Whistler.