VII.

The sun had not yet topped the rolling hills betwixt October and November to the west (in the Marching Lands, the sun always rises in the west, towards the month previous, and sets towards next month) when the little princesses and their dapper steeds cleared the forbidding rose hedge and passed out into the wild forests. Of course, the hedge had been magiked so that the moment they passed it, the King Mar'vel opened his eyes sleepily, stared blearily at the alarm, then hit the snooze, rolled over, and went back to sleep. He had quite a bit of faith in those little horses! And he had been up quite late, reading, and was actually very very tired. Anyway, Carmina and Fatima headed North towards the only gate from November that they knew, which, alarmingly to the Brothers, led unto Faerie. But Carmina explained sensibly, "perhaps the gate hath a keeper, and such a one would know where the other gates are." Aleph pointed out, just as sensibly, that any gatekeeper would certainly call to check with their father, especially if it was -- and it would be by the time they got that far North -- past the princesses' bedtime. This undeniability caused the girls to fall into such a concerned rumination that they did not notice the little boggart until Beth practically trod on his wee boggart tail. "Aiiie!" it wailed miserably, springing out of the way. "What be ye? Some faerie frauns, come to poke at me in my shame?" And he made an expression of such deep and heartfelt, gloomy sorrow that Fatima melted and Carmina softened a tiny touch, although they both thought privately that their father did it much better. "My name is Fatima Rose, and this here is my sister Carmina Rose, and these are our brothers, Aleph and Beth, Mr. Boggart. Do /you/ have a name?" "I do, much good that it may do me." glummed the Boggart. "My name is Matrian Morblodued Fopussiant, an' it please you, ladies and horses. I'd say it was a pleasure to make your aquaintance forsooth, but I do much fear and hope that nothing shall be a pleasure ever again." And thusly the wretched creature fell into a pout even more fantastic than previous. But /still/ not quite as good as their father, the King Mar'vel, they both thought.