Wide-eyed with fear and dishevelled, Kara stumbled into the nearest seat to watch the ensuing journey with her heart in her mouth. This was not at all how she had imagined her first flight would be! Clutching the armrests with both hands, she closed her eyes, small frame stiff with fear, and muttered over and over to herself, 'I'll never fly again! So help me, so long as I live, I'll never fly again!'

Half an hour had gone by when Secret Island loomed off the right wing as the aeroplane banked to make its approach. It was a large island, green and lush and shaped like a mountain with steep, sheer sides and a flattened top that appeared a convolution of hills. As they drew near, Kara spotted a lake shaped like a spear point whose tip plunged deep into a mountainous valley, and as they descended it became apparent that this was to be their landing point.

Rather than land on the open water, the aeroplane flew deep into the valley until they came in sight of something that made Kara catch her breath. At the head of the spear point was an open area of fields, farmland, orchards and meadow, and at the lake's edge resided a huge stone chateau. As the aeroplane finally lost momentum and dropped towards the water's surface, Kara caught a glimpse beyond the chateau of rising hills covered in dense forest, terraced farmland and grassland bordered on all sides by forest. 'No roads, no cars, no traffic,' she mused absently. 'And clean air. Perhaps this place won't be so bad.'

Upon reaching the dock and securing the plane with it's engines still idling, the skinny young man removed Kara's carpetbag to a nearby bench. 'Someone will come for you soon,' he smiled, casting a nervous glance in the direction of the chateau. 'You'd best wait here.' With that he hastily untied and reboarded the plane, which, coughing and smoking like an affront to the pristine beauty of its surroundings, turned and began making its way to rejoin the smoke and factories of civilization.

After waiting for over an hour, Kara belatedly realised that no one was coming to get her and decided that she might as well carry her own luggage up to the chateau. In the meantime, some warning sense made her check the wallet she kept in her carpetbag.

It was empty.

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'That- that miserable thief!'

Crying angry tears of frustration, she began walking towards the chateau. But when she finally gained the front doors, she discovered neither bell nor knocker. She tried knocking on the massive wooden doors but they proved so thick and dense that they absorbed her futile attempts to make her presence known. With a sigh, she was just about to leave her luggage and try for a back entrance when she noticed a rope dangling to her left. A bell rope, perhaps? She tried it, felt through its tautness that it was connected to some heavy and ungainly mechanism, and pulled. In response, from within the house came a satisfyingly loud and musical chiming. Momentarily, an harassed-looking woman dressed in black maid's attire answered and began speaking to Kara is rapid Spanish. Belatedly noting the girl's incomprehension, she slowed her stream of words to a comprehensible trickle.




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