<<set $InvitedBigCat = "yes">>The cat rolls over so its eyes look up your nostrils. 'Oh, well. Glad they've gotten someone on the job. Well, I'm perfectly happy here if you decide to bring everyone to visit me. If you find somewhere equally sunny, I'll consider that too.'\n\nWith that he rolls over again, and begins to snore, legs twitching as he chases imaginary nib-nabs in his dreams. \n\n[[You leave the cat be|Greenhouse]].

The angelic youths clap their hands with glee and whoop. Their voices are unsettlingly animalistic, though that may just be a trick of your ears. Eventually, Flora composes herself. 'I feel compelled to warn you, it will be rather ghoulish.'\n'Certainly, if Flora's involved.' Miles says, winking at you. \nFlora rolls her eyes. 'I'm sorry, but whose idea was it to taxidermy Foster?' \nMiles pales and goes quiet. You are not sure if Foster was a beloved pet or an aged relative, but decide not to inquire. \n'Anyway, as I say, there's something rotten in the attic. We're not sure what but Father's keeping it from us. We shall have to be discreet, surreptitious, and above all else, cunning.' Flora says\n'It'll be just like that time we went to the woodshed, because Aunt Ada had seen something nasty - ' Miles begins.\n'We agreed we weren't going to talk about that, Miles.' Miles quiets. \n'Now, follow us. We'll have to go in through the conservatory. We don't want to run into Millicent.' Flora says.\n'Millicent's our housekeeper. She used to be our bulldog as well.' Miles confides in you. \n\nHand in hand, they begin to walk towards the House that threatens on the horizon.\n\n[[You follow|The House]].

The sun is sinking a little, a great orange presence skirting the horizon. The sea is blessedly calm. As is, unfortunately, the winds. \n\n'Bother!' Julian sighs. 'Damn and blast!' explodes Margaret. From the crow's nest, Dominic gasps. \n\nFrom your vantage in the rigging, you can see dark clouds gathering behind you. Wind, hopefully, and soon. You relay this to to your motley crew. \n\n'Well, we could take advantage,' Margaret says, 'And go swimming in this lovely sea, lay anchor, and take off.' She seems quite enamored with the prospect.\n'Or,' Dominic says, looking eagerly at the hamper, 'We could have the picnic now. Save us time on the island.'\n'Well, we can't do both. Can't swim on a full stomach, and I don't fancy mucking about with cultery whilst dripping wet.' Margaret suggests foregoing cultery. Both of the boys are aghast. \n\n[[Go swimming. The water is so inviting|Swimming]].\n[[Eat the picnic|Picnic eaten]].

<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>There is a sudden sound of rushing water behind you. You turn to see water rising from every crevice within the first cave, rising around the hunched witch. A thousand faces bubbling, teeth bared in the babbling. A thousand faces of Nysa. The cup is empty in your hands. \n\n[[Call out to Nysa. Perhaps you can stop whatever this is|Nysa Called Out]].\n[[Leave Nysa to whatever is about to occur|Left Nysa]].<<else>>You walk on into the shadows under the wood. Along the way you encounter vast formations of rock, crystal, and hanging roots, hollow voices that boom and echo in the dark, and finally you come to a long stair. You climb the long stair that rises up and up and up, carved out of the earth, growing damper as Storm outside grows louder, and you reach the surface, and the heart of Storm.\n\n[[Leave the cave|Blasted Oak]].<<endif>>\n\n

<<set $InvitedCaterpillar = "yes">>The caterpillar does not seem surprised to see you. It chews over your offer for a long time. 'Well, you see' he says at last, 'I'm very grateful but I'm rather happy here. Nice and cool for a grub like me. I suppose everyone else wants to picnic in the 'orrible warm.' \n\nYou are about to say something in reply but are interrupted as the caterpillar continues, 'Although, I am rather 'ungry. If there happened to be a few tasty leaves at the picnic... Not an whole plant, too much for my little belly that. But a nibble on a nice leaf, and I might be tempted to venture somewhere all warm and dry.' \n\nThe caterpillar returns to his singing. \n\n[[You make your exit|Boat-house]].

The hill rises on the far side of the stream. Barren, but for a copse of bare trees blowing in the wind, their leaves scattered like bouquets at a wedding. Grey clouds skid across the ashen crest, where old stones furrow their brows and something jangles in the wind. \n\n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack gestures to the crest, and begins to mount the hill. 'Wards are at the peak,' he calls out behind him, his voice almost lost to the mounting winds.\n[[Follow|Hallow Hill Peak]].<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>The cup you've been holding gingerly before you for the last mile or so begins to rattle in your hands. A tiny face forms in the water and looks ahead with glee. 'To the peak, water will flow. Where words are stoppered so river might run.'\n[[Ascend the hill|Hallow Hill Peak]].<<endif>>\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>The Fox darts ahead of you, its tail aflame in the setting sun. 'Wards ahead, and we're here first. Let's see it stays so. No use provoking anything.' With that the fox is off in the wind, a blur of red on a dark horizon\n[[Follow|Hallow Hill Peak]].<<endif>>

<<set $MorpheusKeys += 1>>You wander the gallery, silent but for the storm thundering outside. You fish about behind the portrait frame of the Baron and unearth a pale-silver key, emblazoned with the initial 'M'. \n\nYou find a discarded bottle, broken, beneath the portrait of Aunt Perpetua. A few drops of a curious green liquid that seems to have left an oddly - evaporative - residue on the ruined floorboards.\n\nAfter a while you notice Flora and Miles have closed their eyes tight shut. Their lips are moving but no sound emerges.\n\n[[Leave through the right door|The Ballroom]].\n[[Take the left door|The Cellar]].

<<set $InvitedFish = "yes">>The fish does not hesitate for a moment, but in a leap and a whoop has propelled itself into the watering can, where it lands with a hearty splash. You are left somewhat damp. \n\n'Well, come on then! Round up the guests and let's get to picniccing!' It cries, its voice echoing in the depths of the watering can.\n\nIt is, on reflection, a rather bossy fish. \n\n[[You continue to explore the water garden|Water Gardens]].

<<set $StormAppeased += 1>>You bow deeply and with all the reverence you can muster before the Woodman. There is a long silence, long as the blade on the axe before you. \n\nAnd then the Woodman slowly, like the fall of an oak, steps aside. The path ahead is clear. \n\n[[Walk on|Leaving the Woodman]].

Flora frowns and Miles sighs as they bid you a good day. They disappear into the maze. \n\nYou wander for a time through the labyrinth, your breath ice in the dark. Eventually you come to a vast rambling House, perched on a terrace brooding over the maze and gardens to the east. Great gables jut ominously out onto the darkling sky. Cobwebs occlude the rooms inside from clear view, but you endeavor to peer inside a few on the ground floor all the same. You don't see much but what you are able to is simply ghastly. Deliciously so. \n\nUnfortunately, there seems to be no means of entrance. Eventually, you are compelled to return to the Pavilion. With a heavy heart, you trudge through the interminable labyrinth of the hedge maze.\n\n[[Return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

<<set $MillicentsFootsteps += 1>> <<set $DancedMiles = "yes">>Miles is a surprisingly elegant dancer, though the music from Flora's valiant efforts at the pianoforte sound more like a dirge than a waltz. \n\nStill, he takes your hand sweetly, and the potential awkwardness of having to fish you out of a sudden fissure that violently erupts in the floor is averted by his quick reflexes. Between that, and the gentle collapse of the piano, the dance comes to an end. \n\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the Ballroom]].\n[[Take the left door|The Cellar]].\n[[Take the right door|The Bathroom]].

Dominic nods, and smiles. 'You know best. We shall have scones, after all.' Together you lock up the hamper, and carry it back along the shore, the sun hanging orange in the sky, creating a path of gold shimmering out onto the sea. \n\n[[You make it back up the coastline|Embarking]].

You turn and find two plaster-cast lions, paint peeling off them, stood utterly still before you. One is red, the other white. Both carry themselves with considerable dignity, despite their evident decrepitude. \n\n'I'm Osric, this is Eric.' The say together, leaving you confused as to which is which. 'You must be a dreamer. A long time since of those wandered through our garden.'\n\n'They never stay,' the red lion sighs, wistfully. 'And we always crumble a little more. If we're waiting much longer for another dreamer, there won't be much left of us to greet them at all.'\n\nThe white lion picks up the thread. 'That's too true. Very sad business, being a dream without a dreamer. Or one who never visits. Still, we were about to have a picnic, and now we have a dreamer among us! Hip hip hooray!' The red lion echoes the cheer, in simillarly braying tones. \n\n'Now where has that robin gotten to?' They look askance on you.\n\n[[Invite the lions to the new picnic|Lions invited]].\n[[Profess innocence of that knowledge. They seem like overbearing guests|No lions]].

'Bloody marvellous!' Julian says, and insists on shaking your hand. Margaret gives you a nod, a grin creeping across her face. Dominic rises from his rock-pool to enclose you in a hug, his head pressed against your chest. The four of you stand beneath the sun, discussing your upcoming adventure, as the waves wash in behind you. \n\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>'I must say, I don't approve of furs, old thing.' Margaret says, frowning at your collar. 'I'm not fur!' Cecily rises from your neck, radiating indignation. 'Oh,' replies Margaret, 'Well, I suppose that's alright then.'<<endif>>\n\n'There's a few things we need first,' Julian tells you, 'We've left the boat out in a cave, in case pirates or some other rotters thought to steal it. Mags is going to grab it for us, but she might need some help.'\n'I honestly don't, Julian,' Margaret says, rolling her eyes, 'Maybe if it were you going Julian, I'd say our new friend should go with you. Though,' she says reflectively, 'I suppose I wouldn't mind the company.'\n'And Dom's putting together the picnic. It's boring girls' work, really, but that's Dom for you. If you fancy farting about with gooseberry jam and ham slices and wrestling with our picnic basket, be my guest.'\n'It's a beastly old thing.' Dom concurs, the light of the sea in his eyes. \n'Or, you could come with me and gather some driftwood, for the fire we're going to start on the island, to celebrate our victory.' Julian says. You wonder why driftwood can't just be found on the island, but you think better of arguing with him. Three pairs of eyes look at you expectantly. \n\n[[Go with Margaret to fetch the boat|Sea Cave]].\n[[Help Dominic prepare the picnic|Picnic]].\n[[Fetch driftwood with Julian|Driftwood]].

<<set $WhatTheThunderSaid += 1>>The witch cocks her head to one side, surveying you like a housecat confronted with a mouse that coud miaow. 'Perhaps,' she says at last, her voice like the groaning of an old door, 'There is wisdom in that. Or perhaps cowardice. Refusing to jump one way or the other.' \n\nShe stands aside to let you pass. 'Perhaps you'll be stricken all the same.' \n\nA dark entrance stands before you - the caves underneath the wood, presumably.\n\n[[Enter the cave|Leaving the witch]].

<<set $MillicentsFootsteps += 1>>You find a good bottle of port. Your movements thereafter are somewhat hazy. Miles locates a set of fine cigars, which set your lungs to blazing. The air is thick with dark smoke. Flora plays a rather daring libretto on the pianoforte. \n\n[[Stagger on through the left door|The Cellar]].\n[[Attempt to take the right|The Bathroom]].

<<set $SummerHelp += "1">>Margaret smiles her thanks, as sweat beads on her brow, muscles in her arms bulging as she maneuvers the boat through the cave mouth. You help on the other side, half dragging, half-carrying the boat out of the cave and into the ocean water where it stands a slightly better chance of catching wind. \n\nThere is a satifsying splash, and a merciful easing of the weight on your arms as you drop the little craft. \n\nMargaret gives you a nod, and wipes her brow. 'Soon be seaworthy. Shipshape. Avast and buckling of swashes and so forth.' She waves a stick half-heartedly at you. \n\n'Come on, skipper. The boys will be waiting.'\n\n[[Walk with Margaret back to the shore|Embarking]].

<<set $StayingBehind += 1>> <<set $VisitedAutumn = "yes">> DREAMERS CHANGE LIKE SEASONS. STORM HERALDS CHANGE\n\nTIME COMES, TIME CHANGES. SWEEP FOREST CLEAR - SO NEW CAN GROW WHERE OLD WAS. \n\nStorm rumbles, and then stops. The sky over the forest is lightening. STORM MOVES ON. ONE DAY RETURNS. \n\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>Cecily waits until storm finishes before speaking. 'All well and good,' they say, 'But what about me? Why was I left?' \n\nThunder rumbles, as though storm is considering. At last:\nFORGOT EVERYTHING BUT THE DREAM. HERE YOU ARE SAFE, WON'T CHANGE - UNLESS DREAMER WILLS IT. UNLESS DREAMER CHANGES\n\nCecily furrows their brow. 'Then I needn't wait here forever? If she's forgotten her pet, then I'll forget her.' They look up at you. 'I think I'll go with you, then. Change is in the air, it seems. And besides - you'll just get lost without my guidance.' With that, Cecily clambers up onto your shoulders, and makes themself comfortable about your neck.<<endif>>.\n\nStorm is silent. The dark clouds begin to gather, as though readying to move on. The forest behind is lightening, as though storm had never been. \n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>'Well, I'll be,' Jack says. He shakes his head. 'If you're ever back this way, seek me out, you hear?' And with that, he is gone, back down the hillside and to his woodland home. No doubt to prepare for the next storm.<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>'Storm speaks, water listens.' The cup rattles in your hand, as though thinking. 'Storm waits, so will water. Waits till dream changes again.' And with that Nysa is gone from the cup, water spilling down the hill, to the babbling stream shining at its base.<<endif>>\n\nStorm is passing on. You can see the path back to the Pavilion on the other side of the hill. It is time you too passed on.\n[[Return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

The robin lands on your shoulder, sheltering under your hat from the sudden downpour. \n\n'Let's make this quick, shall we? Where shall we have the picnic?'\n\n[[In the cool shelter of the boathouse|picnic Boathouse]].\n[[In the warmth of the glasshouse|picnic Glasshouse]].\n[[In the shade of the arbour|picnic Arbour]].

You and Margaret climb the gentle slope of the island up to where sand meets patchy grass still thick with white-grain, and the palm trees hang high with coconuts. \n\n'Paradise on earth, I should think. Do you think we should tell Julian we've found his treasure?' Margaret giggles, and reaches for a coconut. 'You can get milk out of these.' She occupies herself breaking open a coconut. \n\nAhead you think you see little tracks in the grass, too small for a human. <<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>Cecily at your neck stiffens. 'I smell a rat. Or something worse.' They growl.'<<endif>>\n\n'Hey!' Milk is running down your coat. And such a nice coat too! A sad looking coconut rolls empty on the grass. Margaret sits down, a second coconut in her hands. 'Well, we shall just have to share mine.' \n\n[[Follow the tracks. Coconuts can wait|Tracks in the sand]].\n[[Sod it. Take the coconut|Coconut]].

'What?,' The rabbit says, flustered, turning to peer at you with its dear pink eyes, 'Oh yes! Visitors! My name, you see, is Astrolabe. Profession too - in a manner of speaking.' \n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>Cecily rolls their eyes. 'Rabbits, only good for sundays, and even then, only briefly. Can't keep a thought straight. It's no wonder the wood has such difficulties with storms when roast-for-brains is put in charge.'<<endif>>\n\n'You see,' Astrolabe continues, 'Since the last storm rattled on through, when the last dreamer was here - well, the last one who stayed. - Anyroad, we've been a might wary. The storm got awful close then, might have fancied overstaying its welcome even! Can you imagine such a house-guest! Tipping over the ottomans and laughing at the embroidered cosies before you've even turned your back! Well, I've been watchful, and with my wonderful sycamore-scope, I can keep watch over that nasty storm and now it's back! The very same! Can you believe it? All grown up and full of teenage wroth! But I have a scheme! Can you credit it?' Astrolabe finishes his speech, his cheeks twitching with righteous indignation. \n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack turns to you and raises an eyebrow. 'Sure likes to talk, don't he?'<<endif>>\n\n[[Ask about his scheme. You fear he might burst if you don't|Astrolabe's Scheme]].

The tea is strong and sweet with a faint undertone of bitterness. \n\nAisling speaks again. 'Bring to mind whichever dream you wish to take with you. It shall be yours to walk in dreams, for as long as you wish.' \n\n<<if $VisitedSpring is "yes">>[[The dream of the gardens, and the spring in the sky|Saved Spring]].<<endif>>\n<<if $VisitedSummer is "yes">>[[The dream of the sea, and the summer in the breeze|Saved Summer]].<<endif>>\n<<if $VisitedAutumn is "yes">>[[The dream of the woods, and the autumn in the rain|Saved Autumn]].<<endif>>\n<<if $VisitedWinter is "yes">>[[The dream of the House, and the winter in the frost|Saved Winter]].<<endif>>

<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>>You kneel in the fallen leaves, the wet mulch of the wood on your bended leg, as Storm rages above you. The Woodman moves the axe over you, like the turning of the spheres in the vault of sky, and brings it down - \n\nYou feel the blow as a light tap on your neck. The Woodman stands aside, axe down before it. There is a thin trickle of blood from your neck. The way ahead is clear. \n\n[[Stand and walk on|Leaving the Woodman]].

A large tabby cat sits behind you, paws folded about its chest. It is wearing an eyepatch. \n\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>On your shoulders, Cecily bristles. They hiss at the cat. The cat hisses back. This being done, the two nod at each other, apparently having reached an accord. 'I don't know what you want me to do,' Cecily says indignantly when you look askance at them, 'I've solved my problem. He's yours now.'<<endif>>\n\n'My gold, now be off you hoodlums.' \n'But you're a cat.'Julian says, amazed.\n'I'm sure he has a name.' Dominic whispers, 'Perhaps we should ask? Is that the polite thing to do, do you think?'\n'It's Oscar, you wily rascals.' Oscar the cat replies. 'That treasure was wrecked with my sailors. Now I'm alone on the island, but for the rats. Bliss, I tell you. All the rats you can eat, and nobody to disturb you.' His scarred face contorts into a scowl. 'Until now, that is.'\n'Well, you surely don't need the treasure. We could just take it and be off, Mr Oscar.' Margaret says reasonably. \nThe cat shakes his tabby head. 'Nah. Thing is, I couldn't do anything to stop you. Four of you, and while I'm meaner, you're much bigger. But it belonged to my ship, my crew, and it's on my island. Now do the decent thing, and scarper.' Oscar glowers balefully at you. \n\n'He's right. We could just take it. Imagine the adventures we could have with a little gold burning a hole in our pockets.' Julian says in a stage whisper.\nDominic shakes his head. 'It is his. I don't like just taking what doesn't belong to us.'\nMargaret shrugs. 'I would agree with Dom, except I don't like seeing things go to waste. A cat, even a sea-worthy cat, isn't going to have a use for all of this.' \nEveryone, including the cat, looks at you. Oscar appraises you with his good, yellow eye. 'Well, you scurvy landlubber, what's it to be?'\n[[Take the gold. It's doing nobody any good marooned here|Took gold]].\n[[Leave the gold. He might not use it but it is his|Left gold]].\n<<if $SummerHelp gte 3>>[[You could split the gold. Oscar could keep his mementoes, but you could have something to take away from the adventure too|Split Gold]].<<endif>>

A House For All Seasons

The sun is sinking slowly. The island smells fresh and clean. The trees sway in the breeze. A balmy evening air washes in from the sea. The stars are rising in the sky. \n\nThe four of you step off your little craft, and walk ashore. Julian drops the driftwood in a pile, and is dismayed to find evidence of a lit campfire a little further up the beach.\n\n'No!' He cries. 'This was to be our island! Our adventure!'\nMargaret pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. 'How about we take a wander about, first? Before we go jumping any guns.'\nDominic nods, setting the hamper down. Everyone seems too excited to be worrying about food for the moment.\n\n'If there were prints in the sand, we'd know for sure. If some scoundrel has stolen our treasure..' Julian is muttering to himself. Dominic and Margaret exchange glances with you. You suggest splitting up to cover the island quicker. The others nod. \n'I'll go north, to those trees there. Who knows, maybe there's a whole jungle hidden away there. Wouldn't that be an adventure?' Margaret smiles.\n'I can scout the perimeter. Gosh, that sounds very military doesn't it?' Dominic says, seemingly taken with his own daring. \n'I'm going to to that old wreck there, not you Mags,' Julian says, pointing to a beached and broken ship on the far side of the island. \n\n[[Explore the trees with Margaret|Trees]].\n[[Scout the perimeter with Dominic|Perimeter]].\n[[Go to the wreck with Julian|Wreck]].\n

The trio looks crestfallen, but eventually Julian nods. 'Alright, old thing. I'm sure there's bound to be another dreamer, or a bit of dream floating in like flotsam. We'll be off on an adventure in no time!'\n\nThe three of them bid you farewell, and you spend a pleasant afternoon wandering the coastline, exploring the rock-pools and shallow caves along the cliffs. Eventually, you grow hungry, and your thoughts turn back towards the Pavilion.\n\n[[Return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

Lush curtains of unimaginable velvet. High-backed and winged chairs, stained with cigar smoke. A writing desk spattered with inks of a peculiar dark hue. A grandfather clock that has hands only for midnight. \n\n'This is where the men go for port and cigars,' Flora says, shutting the doors behind her. \n'It's marvellous stuff,' Miles says, eager to demonstrate his own participation in these hallowed rituals.\nFlora shrugs. 'Port's alright if you're of a limited constitution. For my part, I prefer whiskey.' She runs her thumb over a set of Byron's unexpurgated poetry sat gathering dust. \n\nTwo doors lead out of the room - a small wooden door, set into the wainscotting, behind which a distinctive rattling sound can be heard. The second, leading to the right, is silent but for the occasional drop of water landing with an echoing splash.\n\n'Father is often in here.' Miles says, opening a drawer and peering inside. He is soon covered in spiders, whom Flora sets about drawing precise anatomical sketches of. \n\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the Drawing room]].\n[[Take the left door|The Cellar]].\n[[Take the right door|The Bathroom]].

You venture off the path. \n\nYou find yourself in a meadow in the latter stages of its life cycle, perhaps a year or so before the trees hovering about its borders like anxious mothers at a wedding close in, and the meadow becomes a grove. \n\nThe sun is hidden, and a faint drizzle of light mist rolls in from the south. The forest looms ahead, oak, ash, and pine swaying in a sudden wind. You wish you had thought to bring a shawl with you when you fell asleep. \n\nA fox, watching from a hollow formed by a fallen birch tree, appraises you critically. \n\n'You look lost,' they say, 'I can't abide lost people. They make the place look untidy.' \n\n[[Respond to the fox, even if they have been abominably rude|Cecily the Fox]].\n[[Ignore the fox and venture in|Into the Woods]].\n[[You're not sure you want to go to a place inhabited by parsimonious foxes. You return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].|

<<set $WhatTheThunderSaid += 1>>Cecily smirks.\n\n'Correct. Wait out the storm, until the moment is exactly right.'\n\nThere is a distant rumble of thunder from out over the south. 'Now, there's my cue to hide back in my hollow,' they say, 'We may see each other again.'\n\nWith that, Cecily is off. A flash of blazing orange, before their great tail disappears into the gloom of the undergrowth.\n\n[[It is time to head into the woods|Into the Woods]].\n

She eventually has everything more or less where it was when she began, although the darkening clouds visible beyond the dome don't look too promising for the future of the arrangement of the tea service. \n\nThe lady looks up at you and beams. 'There. Now, shall I pour?' \n\n[[You sigh and accept the tea|Tea poured]].\n[[Does she even know her name|Doesn't Know Name]]?

<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack shakes his head, damp with fresh rain. 'I can't rightly say I understand what you're about, but won't make Storm worse, I guess.'<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>The teacup rattles indignantly, but is otherwise mercifully silent.<<endif>>\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>Cecily pads over to watch you as you bind the protesting bells tongues with fallen leaves. 'Yes, very clever. Rather nicely done, actually.' \n<<endif>>\n<<set $WhatTheThunderSaid += 1>>You scrape leaves from the floor and stuff them between the tongue and the head of nine silver bells, who jangle and rattle in protest, before falling into silence. A silence that sleeps out over the cold hill. \n\nBehind you, you see a rabbit running. Strangely it appears to be carrying a series of rolled up charts, wedged between its teeth. \n\n[[Follow the running rabbit|Call Alice]].

<<set $OpenedSkylight = "yes">>You open the curtains in the ceiling, and instantly light spools in. Beneath the skylight, a large, warm patch of sunlight appears, yet elsewhere the shade and proximity to the pond keep the atmosphere light and clement rather than oppressively hot.\n\n[[You continue to explore the arbour|The Arbour]].

You upend a basket chair. Miles fishes within the beak of a stuffed parakeet. Flora sighs, hands on her hips, and declaims the general state of decreptitude that has overcome her family's once glorious estate. \n\nBetween you, you uncover a compass - pointing due south to the beach, a silken handkerchief mottled with spores, which Flora snatches up for proper study at a more leisurely hour, and a pair of broken spectacles.\n\nNot promising. Miles tentatively suggests you look elsewhere. \n\n[[Go through the left door|The kitchen]].\n[[Go through the right door|The drawing room]].

She picks up the horn cup, its yellow tinge accenuated by the sun shining through it from above. \n\n'If you drink from this, you will leave the House, but you will take something of it with you. One of the four realms here that dwell beyond the pavilion will go with you. You may visit it in dreams whenever you wish. Perhaps you might even shape it. But', here she raises a finger, 'The other three realms will be lost. To you, and to all dreamers hence.'\n\nShe gazes into the basin of the yellow cup. 'Of all the dreamers I have known to have wandered through this place, not a one of them has drank from the horn cup.' \n\nShe places the cup onto the table, and looks at you. 'I wonder if you will be different.'\n\n[[Ask about the cup of ivory|Ivory Cup]].\n[[You tell her you are ready to begin|The Pavilion]].

You lay down the little anchor, securing the ship whilst you gad about in the waters. \n\nJulian and Margaret race to strip most of their clothing and jump in. It's close, but you think Julian was a little faster. Not that you'd tell him that. \n\nYou dive in, and Dominic after you. The water is warm, the sun still fairly high. Fish swim under you - clownfish and rainbow trout, flashes of colour gliding through the great blue. \n\nMargaret swims out ahead, the sun shining all around her. Dominic is a less confident swimmer, and you are forced to help him stay afloat on occasion. Julian insists on racing Margaret around the ship, and it quickly becomes apparent that what she lacks in speed, she more than makes up for in endurance. At some point, somone, you suspect Margaret, suggests tossing a ball about in the water. Unfortunately, no-one thought to bring a ball, and you are reduced to hurling a particularly soft piece of old wood about until it nearly takes Dominic's eye out. You are forced to call the score even, despite Julian's protests. \n\nBefore too long, the clouds are gathering in the sky again. \n[[It is time to set sail once more|Island landing]].

<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>>'Ah, sound and fury, yes,?' The Fox does not sound impressed.\n\nThere is a distant rumble of thunder from out over the south. 'Now, there's my cue to hide back in my hollow,' they say, 'We may see each other again.'\n\nWith that, Cecily is off. A flash of blazing orange, before their great tail disappears into the gloom of the undergrowth.\n\n[[It is time to head into the woods|Into the Woods]].

<<set $StormAppeased += "1">><<set $CompanionJack = "yes">>He smiles and closes your hand in his. His palm is calloused, but his touch is soft. He winks at you. \n\n'Hard going on the trek up, but I can hear the chimes already. Won't be long now.' \n\nHe hefts his axe onto his broad shoulder, and heads on, down and north. \n\n[[You follow after. You did say you would|Hallow Hill]].|

You recall the garden, the picnic with the robin and all of the rest under a stormy sky. You drink deep of the tea. \n\n[[You wake|Wake Spring]].

The path turns, the voices are a little closer. The stars a little brighter high above. Your breath forms a path of sparkling ice in the dark.\n\nYou come to another turn.\n\n[[Take the left|Second left]].\n[[Take the right|Second right]].

Margaret leads you along the shore, skirting the cliffs and jumping over tidal pools to reach a cave, its mouthpartially open to the sea, which sits calmly surrounded by sand. \n\n'Thanks for coming, I did need help, actually. Not that I was going to tell Julian that. I'd have dragged the bloody boat across the sands single-handed first. He can be so smug, but I'm sure you'd noticed. Now I'm gossiping - which he'd say is just acting like a girl - agh!' She runs her hand through her hair in frustration. 'He's a good chap most of the time, but he has some queer ideas. Ah, here we are.'\n\nInside the cave, a little fishing boat sits in the shallow water, anchor dropped and sails down. A single mast, with a miniscule crow's nest rises optimistically towards the cavern roof. \n\nThe cave is full of shells, and the walls are lined with crystalline rocks that glint in the shadowed sunlight. \n\n[[Explore the cave a little|Explore cave]].\n[[Help Margaret, who has already began to untie the boat|Help Margaret]].

<<set $VisitedBiawac = "yes">>The man hefts his axe onto his shoulder so that he might shake your hand. You think that the gesture may have been intended as polite, but you are very aware that the axe is now unpleasantly level with your neck, which you feel you'd rather keep attached to your person, if it's all the same to you.\n\n'Name's Jack. You seeking shelter from the storm? It's a big one, that's for sure. You're welcome to stay in my little abode and wait it out - they say lightning never strikes twice.'\n\nHe pauses, and eyes you up. 'Say, friend. You're new to these parts, but I think you might be able to help me out. I'm heading up Hallow Hill way to fix the wards up there - not everyone's as ready for the storm as you and I. I'd appreciate the company.'\n\nHe holds out the hand that's currently free of any lethal weaponry. \n\n[[Take his hand|Go with Jack]].\n[[Refuse|Refused Jack]].\n[[What kind of help does he need, anyway|Ask Jack]]?

<<set $TheLaughingSailor = "yes">>Dominic laughs. 'Yes! Oh what larks we shall have!' He dances onto the ship's deck, quickly climbing up to the crow's nest. \n\n[[You board the Laughing Sailor|Setting Sail]].

<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>>He shakes his head. 'Well, friend, your loss.' He wrinkles his nose as a droplet of rain falls upon it, splashing over his face. He blinks.\n\n'I'd best be getting on, but if you're still seeking shelter, the stream's your best bet.' He gestures down yonder, before departing, axe on his shoulder, whistling in the gathering wind. \n\n[[You look around you. The skies are a bruised grey, and the bivouac looks very exposed all of a sudden. You make for the stream with some haste|Stream]].

You open the old door, and descend a long, spiral staircase, significantly cobweb haunted.\n\n'Do you remember when you trapped Nurse down here, sister mine?' Miles asks cheerily. \nFlora frowns and considers. 'Oh, yes.' She says absently. 'I wonder where she - oh, there she is.'\n'Hello Nursey,' Miles says brightly as you brush past a particularly ancient cluster of cobweb. You refuse to look. \n\nYou find yourself in what can only be the cellar. Barrels have been rolled against the least mouldy of the walls. There is a large pit of bubbling green liquid in the far corner. \n'For the acids.' Miles says. 'We really ought to move that.' \n\nThere is another staircase heading up, to a door Flora tells you is the attic. The door is rattling. There is another door, near the way you came in, to the right. \n\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the Cellar]].\n[[Open the attic door|Maid]].\n[[Take the door to the right|The drawing room]].

She beams. 'Yes, Aisling. I like the sound of that, so that's what you must call me.' \n\nShe asks your name, and is delighted by your response. 'So modern!' She smiles. A gull calls from somewhere off behind her. \n\n'The tea's not too hot is it? No? Good. I can't abide hot tea. Nor overly washed mugs. A good cup of tea tastes at least somewhat of the previous two cups.' \n\n[[You quite agree. Good strong tea (teas?), that's the ticket|Agree Tea]].\n[[You vehemently disagree. Tea that strong can do no good at all, to say nothing of hygienic considerations|Disagree Tea]].

<<set $SummerHelp += "1">>You slump down next to Margaret, who raises the coconut in a toast to you. The milk is sour, but it's the look of the thing. \n\n'Let Julian worry. I say we've had a jolly adventure already.' You concur vociferously. 'Where else would we be supping from coconuts under the stars? Perhaps our next adventure, we'll sail out even further. Imagine what islands must be out there beyond the horizon.' You sit in silence a while, looking out to the stars and the dark sea full of promise.\n\nYour reverie is broken by the sound of Dominic shouting. Margaret drops the coconut, and you both scramble to your feet. \n[[You run towards the source of the shouting|Found treasure]].

Mother's laudanum is all accounted for, as are her many disappointments. \n\nYou do unearth a strange alchemical device in the cracked floor. It appears to have some sort of transformational purpose in all of its tubes. It looks somewhat akin to a disillery, but Flora and Miles assure you that its usage must be much more sinister. \n\n[[Take the left door|The Cellar]].\n[[Take the right door|The Bathroom]].\n\n

'Oh yes,' they say, not looking up from the paw which by this point must be so well washed that it practically shines. 'When a storm comes through, everyone has to make their peace with it.'\n\nThey tilt their head. 'Batten down the hatches and let it rattle through our beleagured branches is the common school of thought. Of course, there are those who think storm might be something we embrace, not just appease.' \n\n'So I ask again, whose side are you on?'\n\n[[Who is they, you wonder|Cecily and the forest folk]]?\n[[Which side is Cecily on|Cecily's side]]?\n[[Appease the storm, obviously|Cecily Appease]].\n[[Embrace the storm, evidently|Cecily Embrace]].\n[[You don't know anywhere near enough to be making that decision yet, thank you|Cecily Not Yet]].\n[[You have other questions for Cecily|Cecily the Fox]]].\n[[You have heard enough. Time to head into the woods|Into the Woods]].

<<set $InvitedFairy = "yes">>The fairy's stone eyes widen. 'A picnic? My goodness! How jolly!' She sighs as she looks about her and up at the ceiling held aloft in her stone arms. 'Alas, unless it were to be held here, there's not a lot I could do to come. But thank you for thinking of me all the same.' She beams at you. 'Now run along, my dear. I'm sure you have much to organise. So like the robin - to get all in a flap and offload everything onto a complete stranger!' \n\n[[You run along|The Arbour]].

What a strange dream! You rise from your couch, your mind thick with sleep. Odd images fall from your eyes like stars, gone by the time you have pulled open the curtains. The radio is still playing. \n\nYou feel incredibly well rested - the best sleep you've had in some time. A shame you can remember so little of your dreams. \n\nYou go through your day, feeling strangely as though summer is in the air, but think little of it. \n\nThat night, you dream of the beach. Dominic, Julian, and Margaret are there, waiting for you. 'Hello!' Margaret says, as they embrace you, 'We've an even better adventure for you today! No, we're not going to find Julian a sense of humour - better. We've found a place, out over the sea ... ' \n

You peer into the pond, and walk across the stepping stones that daintily span across the shallow water. \n\nYou are stopped half-way by an perturbed heron.\n\n'What's all this then? I hear a picnic's being scheduled and I've not been invited.' The heron raises its head indignantly. Its crest is furrowed, and its voice scratchy. You suspect you are not the first to have heard this complaint today.\n\n[[Profess innocence and walk on by. The heron seems a disagreeable guest|Pleasure Gardens]].\n[[Invite the heron to the picnic|Invited Heron]].

Aisling resumes her seat, and opens a small tea-chest, which was apparently lurking beneath a tea-cosy. \n\nThe box is old, pink wood and striped cloth, and protests as its lid is lifted. \n\nFrom inside Aisling lifts out two small, white teacups. One a sort of stained yellow, the other like fine marble. \n\n'Horn and ivory,' She says, running her finger round their rims. 'I should have said - you can wake up any time you wish. All you need to do is drink from one of these old cups.' \n\nShe gazes into the hollows of the cups, her brow knotted. Curiosity and frustration wage war across her face. \n\n[[You ask about the cup made from horn|Horn Cup]].\n[[You ask about the cup made from ivory|Ivory Cup]].

<<set $SummerHelp +="1">>Julian frowns. 'Oh, well, when you put it like that, old thing. Maybe I was being a bit rude. They're good sorts. Just not really like me. But I wouldn't hear anyone else say a bad word against them, I suppose.' \n\nYou head back up the coastline, Julian in silent contemplation. \n\n[[You join the others at the meeting point|Embarking]].

The water halts at your voice. You call out again. You hold out the teacup and gesticulate.\n\nEventually, and somewhat sheepishly, the water recedes back into the dark places of the cave, aside from a single stream that trickles towards you. You catch it up in your cup. In the cave, you think the witch is smirking. \n\nYou walk on into the shadows under the wood. Along the way you encounter vast formations of rock, crystal, and hanging roots, hollow voices that boom and echo in the dark, and finally you reach a long stair that rises up and up and up, carved out of the earth. The stair grows damper as Storm outside grows louder, and you reach the surface, and the heart of the Storm.\n\n[[Leave the cave|Blasted Oak]].\n\n

<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack nods and grins at you. 'That's right. Shouldn't have to hear any more noise out of 'em now. Wards hold, storm passes on through, howls off in a sulk when it can't find nobody to bother.'<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>Water rises from the teacup and soaks you solidly as you walk away from the little bells, ringing merrily in the gathering wind.<<endif>>\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>Cecily stares at you for a long moment. 'Honestly, I don't understand why you followed me if you're going to start interfering here.' They stalk off, having caught sight of a rabbit nearby. \n<<endif>>\n\n<<set $StormAppeased += 1>>The line of little bells rings out in the winds. The large bells remain silent. Behind you, you see a rabbit running. Strangely it appears to be carrying a series of rolled up charts, wedged between its teeth. \n\n[[Follow the running rabbit|Call Alice]].

You climb the steep ascent through russet leaves wet and trod underfoot and thorn and briar that seek to ensnare you. Water drips from evergreens as you make for the hill, and the path that rises north. \n\nYou are on the verge of the path, almost at the edge of the hill, when a shadow blocks the moon from sight, and falls over you like the axe of a headsman. \n\nA creature all hollow, made of tangled roots and twigs and rushes - like a nest grown legs and left to walk. Every colour is autumn, brown and faded orange. In its hands, a great axe, made of wood spread over with sunset leaves. \n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack swallows. 'Hollyhocks,' is all he will say. He unslings his hand axe from his back and stands before you. \n\n'A guardian spirit.' Jack circles the Woodman, axe drawn. 'Comes out when wood's threatend - like now. I took his head a year back, and guess he thinks I owe him one. Talk on, but when you're done, I guess I'll be paying my debt one way or another.' <<endif>>\n\nThe Woodsman stands before you, its axe raised over you. Storm crackles away behind it, on the hill with the blasted oak. An old power in it, an old dream. It bows, stiffly, once, and levels the axe.\n\n[[Run|RUN]].\n[[Bend and offer your neck|KNEEL]].\n[[Bow|BOW]].

<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>>You move the sycamore-scope, adjusting its height a few inches, as the barrel is pushed down horizontally. Luckily the howling wind outside disguises the groaning of the tired, old wood. No-one seems to have noticed what you've done.\n\nStill, wouldn't do to linger - Astrolabe might get upset. \n\n[[Quietly make your exit|Heart of the Wood]].

The robin sets off to spread the word. The picnic is to go ahead in the boathouse. He is, you note, much faster than you were. \n\nYou make for the boathouse, having found an umbrella discarded by the dahliahs, and braving the worst of the rain arrive in the cool, damp, shade of the boathouse, where the picnic has already been laid out on the largest of the boats - the Laughing Brook. Teas, scones, jams, cured meats, cheeses, boiled eggs and pickles are arrayed before you. You sit beside the largest of the napkins and await the guests.\n\n<<if $InvitedFish is "yes">>You pop the watering can on the chair next to you, and soon the laughing fish is drinking from sparkling water and making conversation from within the echoey chamber of its temporary home.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedHeron is "yes">>The heron swoops in on its great wings, complimenting the choice of locale and your fine taste. It is a continuous converser, with many a loud and vigorous opinion to share.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedLittleCat is "yes">>With a yawn, the little cat enters the picnic, curling herself up on the comfiest seat. You think she remains awake for the duration, but you're somewhat suspicious when the cheeseboard circulates.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedCaterpillar is "yes">>The caterpillar emerges somewhat sullenlly from the wall, disappointed that the only leaves on offer are lettuce, but is otherwise a sanguine if long-winded guest, prone to somewhat unsettling personal narratives. <<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedLions is "yes">>The Lions appear last, after much scraping from the dark recesses of the boathouse. They are courteous and well-behaved, although they do somewhat dominate the pickled eggs.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\nAt last, the robin arrives, announcing that all who would come are here. He is very gracious towards your efforts, expressing astonishment that he had not thought of the boat-house himself. \n\nEventually, the food and the skies are cleared up. Someone suggests a nap is on the horizon, and slowly but surely the picnic comes to an end. \n\n[[You help clear away the picnic things|Picnic End]].

The others are there ahead of you. The boat is ready to go, sails fluttering proudly in the warm breeze. The picnic has been loaded on board, as has Julian's driftwood. \n\n'I suppose there's only one thing left to do,' Margaret says. \n'What's that, Mags?' Julian asks, clearly eager to get going.\n'Oh no, I haven't forgotten something else, have I?' Dominic asks, anxiously, 'Not that I've forgotten anything to begin with.' \nMargaret grins. 'Name our fine vessel of course! She won't be seaworthy, without a name!' \nThe others cry out in delight. 'I say we call her the Intrepid Explorer, as that's what we are.' Julian says, crossing his arms across his chest.\n'I like the Laughing Sailor as a name,' Dominic says, 'Because that's what I hope we shall be.'\n'I favour the Dauntless, personally.' Margaret says, after a long pause and much apparent soul-searching.\nThey turn to you. 'What do you think?'\n\n[[The Laughing Sailor is a charming name|Laughing Sailor]].\n[[The Intrepid Explorer is a bold, daring choice|Intrepid Explorer]].\n[[The Dauntless has a certain ring to it|The Dauntless]].\n[[You could probably make some kind of portmanteau out of all the suggestions. Probably|Portmanteau]].

With Julian at the wheel, Dominic in the crow's nest, Margaret at the helm, and you at the rigging, soon enough you're asail. The wide blue of the sea before you, the sand and rock of the coast behind you. \n\nGulls call in the sky above and fish in a hundred colours swim in the clear water below. Salt and spray are your constant companions, as you guide the craft out to where Julian assures you this island lies. \n\n[[You sail on, to adventure|Becalmed ship]].

A cold wind blows across the hillside and the old stones resting there. Cairns, or perhaps graves, left exposed to the brooding sky. A line of bells is entwined in the bare boughs of the line of trees below the peak of the hill. \n\nThere is some sort of commotion between the bells. You walk closer, and see most are small, silver bells which jangle franctically in the wind. However, there are three large bells, which move as though tolling, hung in a blasted ash tree, but they make no sound. \n\n'Oh no!' One of the little bells cries out as you approach the line. 'Don't unmuffle them or there'll be hell to pay!' Its voice is small and shrill, chiming out across the hill.\n'Or worse!,' A second bell concurs, 'Storm.' \n\nYou look at the larger bells and see their tongues have been stopped by pieces of bark jammed inside their heads. \n\n[[Free the large bells|Large Bells]].\n[[Leave the large bells silent|Small bells]].\n[[Muffle nine of the small bells. You imagine that would offset the silence of the large bells to about equal|Silence little bells for you are puny]].

A large furry caterpillar is grubbing its way along the wall. 'Cool and damp, cool and damp, that's the life for a little grub.' It sings to itself as it trails along the wall. 'Oh if only I had some tasty leaves, and I should never have to leave again. Leaves and never leave! That's the life for a little grub.'\n\n[[Invite the caterpillar to the picnic. The robin did say everyone|Invite caterpillar]].\n[[Leave the caterpillar to its singing|Boat-house]]

The robin bounces about excitedly, before composing himself. 'Ahem. Quite.' He says. 'The gardens proceed in three directions from here - to the north, the walled gardens - the herbarium and so on. To the west, the pleasure gardens, wild roses and so forth. The the south, the water gardens, if you like that sort of thing. Everyone went racing off in all directions - no co-ordination, I tell you - so you shall have to go to all three eventually.'\n\nYou politely enquire as to what the robin will be doing whilst you do all of this. The robin puffs himself up proudly. 'I? I shall be providing aerial support.' And with that he flies off, a speck below the sun. \n\nYou are alone in the gardens with an urgent task to perform. \n\n[[Head north to the walled gardens|Walled Gardens]].\n[[Head west to the pleasure gardens|Pleasure Gardens]].\n[[Head south to the water gardens|Water Gardens]].\n[[Call on the robin. You think you are ready to begin the picnic|Picnic with the robin]].

Your first steps meet with resistance, as your shoe crunches frosty ground underfoot. You slip and slide, like a child on a frozen lake in his new pair of skates. You find yourself hanging onto the hedges that loom, vegetable and sinister above you. \n\nAnd then you turn a corner, and find yourself confronted by a lobelia-wreathed piece of statuary. A noble lion, its dark-stone ears ringed with ice, and from its mouth spouts frozen water. \n\nSomewhere ahead you hear laughter. Youthful music that slides through the trees like a knife. \n\n[[Go left|First left]].\n[[Go right|First right]].

<<if $VisitedBiawac is "yes">>The leaves crunch underfoot as you ascend the hill - a high point in the russet wood between two sloping valleys, where the trees seem to slide down towards babbling rivers. \n\nYou find yourself in front of a small hut, little more than a few blackened wood beams crossed against each other, like the arch of a church door. \n\nThe hut is silent, but for the howling of the gathering winds.\n\n[[A familiar voice whispers to you from somewhere very close by. Listen|Cecile and the biawac]].\n<<else>>The leaves crunch underfoot as you ascend the hill - a high point in the russet wood between two sloping valleys, where the trees seem to slide down towards babbling rivers. \n\nYou find yourself in front of a small hut, little more than a few blackened wood beams crossed against each other, like the arch of a church door. \n\n'It's a reminder,' says the handsome dark man, who leans against a hand-axe in the doorway, 'of the terrible storm.' \n\n[[Engage the handsome woodcutter in conversation|Jack the woodcutter]].\n[[Examine the bivouac|Inspect biawac]].\n[[You leave the bivouac for the time being|Into the Woods]].<<endif>>

You find a piece of chalk not washed out to sea. Gingerly, you draw a long line on the wall. 77, until the sea takes more. The sea, or perhaps time.\n\nThere is a grunt, and a thud behind you. Margaret has succeeded in dragging the little craft out to sea. \n\n'Come on,' she says, 'Told you I could do it. The boys will be waiting.'\n\n[[You follow Margaret back to the shoreline|Embarking]].

What a strange dream! You rise from your couch, your mind thick with sleep. Odd images fall from your eyes like stars, gone by the time you have pulled open the curtains. The radio is still playing. \n\nYou feel incredibly well rested - the best sleep you've had in some time. A shame you can remember so little of your dreams. \n\nYou go through your day, feeling strangely as though a winter is in the air, but think little of it. \n\nThat night, you dream of the House. Flora and Miles are stood outside waiting. 'Oh, hello,' they say in eerie unison, 'We wondered when you were coming. We heard a strange noise out at the old Drearbone place. We were just about to set off to investigate, if you want to come with us?' \n

He shakes his head, hair already wettened with rain so that you're also dampened in the process. \n\n'A wood's gotta have spirits. Specially a wild, old wood like this here. Spirits gotta look after the wood, see. Hence they put wards up - little trinkets like - on old Hallow Hill last time a big storm came through. We're just going to take a look-see, check everything's working as it should.' \n\nHe looks at you, his hazel eyes bright under the darkening sky. 'So, what d'you say?'\n\n[[Take his hand|Go with Jack]].\n[[Refuse|Refused Jack]].

'Morpheus.' The saying of the name from her lips is met by answering thunder from every cardinal direction. \n\nCecily shakes their head. 'Now do you remember?' \n\nAisling nods. 'I did not wish to leave. I brought you with me, here at the Pavilion when I arrived. But I left you in the forest. I hid pieces of myself, so I might not be found. So another dreamer could not take my place.' She sighs, long and melancholy. 'But in doing so, I forgot myself. I was a function - a pyschopomp, but without myself, I could not enter the dreams.' \n\nShe stands. 'The Pavilion - the Dream - is yours, dreamer. But I will be taking my fox with me.' She lifts Cecily to her face, her eyes burning into theirs. 'I'm sorry I forgot. I'm sorry I was afraid. But with you by my side, I shall face whatever the waking world has for me.' She turns to you again. 'I do not know if I ought to thank you yet, but you have certainly brought change. Perhaps you will look after this place better than I. Until another dreamer decides to wake you.' \n\nAlready she is fading, and Cecily with you. In an instant, as the sun shines bright from behind the disappearing storm-clouds, she is gone. You are alone, in the Pavilion, with the cups unfilled beside you. The sounds of the garden, the sea, the forest, and the house drift in from every side. \n\nThe dream is yours. Until you wake.

You are alone in the empty rose garden with an urgent task to perform. \n\n[[Head north to the walled gardens|Walled Gardens]].\n[[Head west to the pleasure gardens|Pleasure Gardens]].\n[[Head south to the water gardens|Water Gardens]].\n[[Call on the robin. You think you are ready to begin the picnic|Picnic with the robin]].

<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack scowls. 'That's not helping,' he mutters, as you begin to remove the bark from the bells.<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>Nysa splashes about her teacup in delight. 'Yes, rain flows if bells speak. Big bells call the storm. Wards no longer - want rain!'<<endif>>\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>Cecily gives you a withering look. 'Really, my dear.' They stalk away, apparently in pursuit of a rabbit gone tearing across the hillside. \n<<endif>>\n\n<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>>You free the last of the large bells, iron corroded by how much rain? They look older than the little silver bells trilling in quiet fury. Suddenly, each speaks in a sonorous toll. 'STORM WILL HEAR US. WE WILL BE DENIED NO LONGER.'\n\nDelightful. You leave them to it. \n\nBehind you, you see a rabbit running. Strangely it appears to be carrying a series of rolled up charts, wedged between its teeth. \n\n[[Follow the running rabbit|Call Alice]].

'I suppose you have a name', the Fox says as you approach, 'No, don't tell me what it is. I'm sure you'll lose it soon enough.'\n\nThey stand up on their forelegs, rising to a lofty stature. 'My name, however, is Cecily.'\n\nThey begin to wash a paw, rather daintily. 'There's a storm coming, you know. Which begs the question: whose side are you on?'\n\nSure enough, above the canopy of wilting leaves, a darkness is beginning to shade out the sky. \n\n[[Inquire about this storm|Cecily and the storm]].\n[[Sides? Which sides|Cecily and sides]]?\n[[You have heard enough. It is time to make your way further into the forest|Into the Woods]].

<<set $InvitedBasilPlant = "yes">>'Oh, well,' The basil plant says, somewhat put out after you finish your explanation. 'No-one consulted me. Typical.' He sighs. The sigh of a basil plant is a long and protracted thing. 'I suppose if you find somewhere nice and warm, not damp in the slightest, I would consent to being carried along. Though I don't see why we couldn't just have the picnic here. It's ever so nice.' \n\n[[You leave the basil plant to its sunlit reverie|Greenhouse]].

Despite some good-nature grumbling from Margaret, you are all eventually forced to give in to the louder grumblings of your stomachs. \n\nDominic sets upon the hamper with relish, producing an assortment, of, well, relishes, amongst a staggering variety of other sweetmeats, breads, scones, pickles, chutnies, and a whole bottle of rose wine. You are not allowed to touch anything until it has all been laid out exactly to Dominic's satisfaction. \n\nYou tuck in eagerly, and soon manners are thrown to the wind. Or would have been were there any winds to take them. The rose is passed around liberally, and after a few turns around you all, you learn that Margaret has a fondness for a certain literature involving dashing captains and brave but misguided young maidens, Dominic is decidely raucous after a quarter bottle, and Julian is deathly afraid of spiders. Your own secrets, such as they are, are soon like the wine, spilled.\n\nAll good things must come to an end however, and soon the clouds have gathered, and the winds have returned. Sluggishly, you clear up the picnic things, and return to your positions.\n\n[[You resume sailing|Island landing]].

It's a slow circuit you're taking. Dominic seems happy enough to idle, gazing into this pool or skimming that rock out across the sea. \n\n'There's so much to see, and who knows when we shall be here again?' Dominic says, before skipping off to peer at a curious rock formation. 'Maybe we should have brought a tent? And breakfast!' He looks melancholy a moment, and sits down hard upon a rock. 'Oh, and I thought I'd remembered everything.' \n\nYou think you see a shadow moving ahead, long and dark in the falling sun. \n\n[[Sit and console Dominic|Sat on the chest]].\n[[Head after the shadow|Chasing shadows]].

Definitely tracks. A single creature, walking along the sands - all over the island in fact. Occasionally, it speeds up, seemingly in pursuit of some even smaller creature, whose tracks soon vanish. \n\nIt certainly seems an agile creature, whatever is here with you. The tracks disappear at trees, only to reappear some metres away. The sun is but a disc on the horizon. Night is gathering. You shiver.\n\nFrom somewhere behind you, you hear Dominic cry out: 'I've found it!' \n\n[[You run to the source of the shouting|Found treasure]].

The robin looks weary. 'Very well, I suppose I shall leave you to it, then.' He hops off, in search of the others. \n\nYou encounter him several times during your pleasant stroll through the gardens - by a fountain here, entangled in the hydrangeas there, perching on a wall over there. He does not seem to be having much luck.\n\nYou have a thorough exploration of the gardens, from the walled garden near the manor House, to the water gardens to the south, and the rose beds to the east. Eventually, though, the threatened rain falls, and you are forced to head back to the Pavilion, having found no shelter in the garden.\n\n[[You return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

You find yourselves in an opulent ballroom, now given to a glorious decay. Fallen chandeliers litter the glass floor, now cracked like a shattered mirror. Candles gutter in the blowing wind, brought in through a broken pane of glass in the door of stained glass. The grand piano's broken keys rattle in the wind, like an inconveniently advanced relative's false teeth at the Christmas feast. \n\n'Oh hullo, Mama,' Flora says, although you see no-one in the room. Then, from one of the luxuriously decrepit fainting couches, a corpse-white hand rises from a pile of beautifully rotten fuschia silks, and waves. \n'It's the laudaunum,' Miles explains, 'She's never been the same since the Unpleasantness.' \n\n'Shall we dance,' Flora offer her arm, taken by a suddenly giddy mood. 'Or you could dance with me, if you'd prefer,' Miles offers you his elbow, his blue eyes shining in the sudden moonlight like strange stars. \n\nThere are doors leading from the ballroom, a narrow stair leads down to a decayed wooden door to the left. To the right, a white door, somewhat damp, stands guard.\n\n[[Take Flora's arm|Dance with Flora]].\n[[Take Miles' arm|Dance with Miles]].\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the Ballroom]].\n[[Take the left door|The Cellar]].\n[[Take the right door|The Bathroom]].

The basil plant flutters in a breeze you must have let in when you opened the door. \n\n'What did you go doing that for?' The basil plant opines, though you're not sure how, seeing no mouth. You think it would be rude to ask. \n\nThe basil plant explains that the last dreamer placed him here as a favour. 'Too cold outside. I mean, it's sunny, but it's hardly Tuscany.' You concur. This is hardly Tuscany. \n\n'I suppose you're here about the picnic.' The basil plant says, 'I was looking forward to watching it from my windows, but the terrible rain had to go interfering.'\n\n[[You could explain what you're doing|Invite Basil Plant]].\n[[No, the basil plants seems far too much of a complainer to have at your picnic. You leave him to it|Greenhouse]].

The boat-house is well kept. Half in water, where a series of boats, several large enough to hold a picnic table, float in the lake under the shade of the roof. The other half contains several chairs on decking, and storage for all manner of mystifying tools. The atmosphere is cool and damp, but well protected from the rain. \n\nYou see something moving on the wall. \n\n[[Investigate the wall|Caterpillar]].\n[[Leave the boathouse. You have seen what you came for|Water Gardens]].

You wander aimless like a cloud, as the hedge turns and you with it. There is a darkness overhead. \n\nThe path forks again. Two openings in the rimy hedgerows. \n\n[[Go right again|Second right]].\n[[Take the left|First left]].

Aisling sets down her cup onto her saucer with the gentle clink of good china. \n\n'I call it the House of All Seasons. Four seasons in a day, depending on where you go. Though, at least one of those seasons is night and frankly I'm rather suspicious as to Autumn's leanings. They were here before I. A long time before, I think. There might have been more before me, but the number has not altered since my arrival.\n\nIt's like a tangle of other people's dreams, is the best way I can think to describe it. Or maybe a singular person. Very singular, if you ask me. Which, I suppose, you are.' \n\nShe sips her tea. Do you have other questions?\n\n[[No. You think you're ready for whatever comes next|Now what]].\n[[Are you dreaming|Am I Dreaming]]?\n[[Who is Aisling|Who Are You]]?\n[[Yes. Is there more tea|More Tea]]?

<<set $AislingWakes += 1>>She looks down, tears in her eyes. 'So it is my time to leave? I wish I could remember who I was. That would make this easier...' \n\n[[Tell her what the Fairy told you|Fairy said]].\n[[Show her the locket|Locket]].\n<<if $AislingWakes eq 3>>[[Tell her her name|Aisling Name]].<<endif>>

She pauses, and loudly thinks for a moment, with much umming and aahing and scratching of her bonnet. At last, she sighs. \n\n'No, you know, I don't think that I do. Shall we say it's Aisling? I've always liked the name. And one must follow one's likes, or why live?' The question is rhetorical. The proffered tea, steaming in a round, china cup is not. \n\n[[You take the tea and sit opposite Aisling|Tea poured]].

<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>><<set $CompanionNysa = "no">>You watch, as steadily, the waters rise. The witch seems oblivious as the waters lap about her - as though she truly is frozen into place. Water gushes from the walls, from the floor, from every crack, crevice and fissure. The witch, at last raises her hands, only for her arms to crack, as water emerges from her hands, her mouth, her eyes. She splits - and pieces of rock fall into the water, cracks expanding all over the witch, until there is only water and drowned rock. \n\nThe cave is flooded. The water remains. You think it might be best to move on, before Nysa gets any notion of further expansion. You walk on into the shadows under the wood. Along the way you encounter vast formations of rock, crystal, and hanging roots, hollow voices that boom and echo in the dark, and finally you reach a long stair that rises up and up and up, carved out of the earth. The stair grows damper as Storm outside grows louder, and you reach the surface, and the heart of the Storm.\n\n[[Leave the cave|Blasted Oak]].

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You creep off, leaving Dominic to his thoughts. \n\nAhead, there is indeed something moving. Its shadow is long and clawed, moving across the shifting sands. You think it might be a hunting animal, prowling along. It disappears behind a series of rocks, but then is suddenly before you - a little closer you think.\n\nThe sky is darkening, only a thin haze of purplish-dusk light remains. An uncomfortable thought crosses your mind: are you the one being hunted?\n\nBehind you, Dominic begins to shout.\n\n[[You run back to the source of the shouting|Found treasure]].

<<set $StormAppeased += 1>>'Perhaps a quiet life is best,' Cecily says after a long consideration, 'but can one stay quiet in a world full of storms?'\n\nThere is a distant rumble of thunder from out over the south. 'Now, there's my cue to hide back in my hollow,' they say, 'We may see each other again.'\n\nWith that, Cecily is off. A flash of blazing orange, before their great tail disappears into the gloom of the undergrowth.\n\n[[It is time to head into the woods|Into the Woods]].

<<set $MorpheusKeys += 1>>You unearth a strange pale-silver key, with the letter M written on yellowed paper, wrapped around it by a red ribbon. \n\nYou drop a skeleton that happened to be dangling thoughtlessly over the acid pit in. There is a splash, and a subsequent disintegration confirming the contents of the pit. \n\nThere is a note, recent, though the ink has died, that must have fallen from somewhere above, begging privacy whilst in the attic. The note ends, 'And that includes you, Millicent. Let not our former affection encourage you towards liberties.' \n\n[[Open the attic door|Maid]].\n[[Take the door to the right|The drawing room]].

The tea is strong and bitter. Memories wash over you - of gardens kissed by rain and merry picnics amidst the storm, of a sunlit cove, running over the beach with three figures at your side, of a blasted oak beneath a storm-wrought sky, and a House on a hill and golden-pale twins laughing in the dark. And then Aisling's eyes on you, the last thing you see before you wake. \n\n[[You wake|Forget]].

You walk north, up a flight of white stairs, leading to a pleasant covered walkway hemmed in by climbing ivy, offering expansive views of the gardens below. You spy an impressive arbour to the west, and a shaded boathouse surrounded by water to the south. \n\nAhead, the herbarium. Walkways run between long borders smelling of lavender, rosemary, thyme, and basil. A greenhouse stands against a wall, where wild roses flourish all around it. A watering can lies idle on the far wall. Beyond, the walls open onto a long, grey arch and stairs beyond extending to a gloomy manor House. That gate is locked. \n\n[[Explore the greenhouse, before the day gets too warm|Greenhouse]].\n[[Wander the walkways of the walled garden|Walkways]].\n[[Pick up the watering can. It feels full|Watering can]].\n[[Return to the rose garden and explore elsewhere|rose garden]].

'Yes.' Aisling nibbles on a biscuit. There appears to be a whole jar of them, carefully concealed in the teapot. You help yourself when her attention is distracted by a flash of lightning far off. \n\n'I can't remember how I got here. Only that I woke up here, but even waking, I knew this to be a dream. Or many dreams, all rolled into one. Bother. It's hard to explain. You'll see. \n\nBut yes, the 'you' that is really 'you', or at least your body, because maybe what I'm looking at drinking tea daintily is really 'you'? If you follow? But anyway, that 'you' is still wherever you fell asleep. And the 'you' that woke up here, is not there. Yes?'\n\nYour head hurts a little. Do you have other questions?\n\n[[No. You think you're ready for whatever comes next|Now what]].\n[[Yes. Where are you, to start with|Where Am I]]?\n[[Who is Aisling|Who Are You]]?\n[[Yes. Is there more tea|More Tea]]

<<set $AislingWakes += 1>>'That's me! But I don't wear that.' Her sudden excitement is quickly overcome with confusion again. 'Why would I leave it? I have forgotten so much.' \n\n[[Tell her what the Fairy told you|Fairy said]].\n[[Remember what the thunder said|Thunder spoke]].\n<<if $AislingWakes eq 3>>[[Tell her her name|Aisling Name]].<<endif>>

<<if $InvitedFish is "yes">>The laughing fish protests somewhat as you gingerly upend the can over the cat, sprinkling water carefully. You assure the fish there will be plenty left inside.<<endif>> The cat jumps up, startled, and glowers at you. \n\n'I hope,' she says in a voice of silken menace, 'You had good reason for waking me in so discourteous a manner.'\n\n[[You do! There is to be a picnic|Invited cat]].\n[[No! You walk away, ignoring the indignant cat cursing in your wake|Pleasure Gardens]].

<<set $TheDauntlessLaughingExplorer = "yes">><<set $SummerHelp +="1">>The Dauntless Laughing Explorer is it. 'That seems acceptable.' Margaret says, after a silence. The others nod. 'Solid thinking, old chap,' Julian says, shaking your hand. \n\n[[You board the Dauntless Laughing Explorer|Setting Sail]].

<<set $VisitedWinter = "yes">>Leaving the attic, and at least one of its uncovered mysteries behind, you creep away, back through the groaning House beset with the raging storm, and back out to the maze. The sky is lightening, and the Pavilion is silhouetted in the pale moonlight. \n\nFlora sighs. 'I hope you got something out of all this. Personally, I am rather peeved.' \n'We were rather hoping for something more like the time Cousin Lamentia went a'griping on the moors.' Miles concurs. 'Still, I think we've had a rather fun little thrill.'\n'I suppose,' Flora concedes, 'If you ever come again, there are other mysteries we could solve! Like what Mama keeps in the marleybox. Or where Cousin Seth goes a'mollicking. Or what howls about the moors on St Agnes' Eve.'\n'I thought we weren't talking about the moors anymore?' Miles asks.\n'Oh. Right. I thought the Sickness had gone?' Flora replies.\n'Has it? I hear it rattling about the nursery something fierce - ' \n\nThey proceed to bicker some more, stopping only to wish you a fond farewell and implore you to return if you are able. The storm picks up around the angelic pair, as though a host of seraphim were about to descend to capture them home. \n<<if $DancedMiles is "yes">>Miles kisses you softly on the lips before you depart, his eyes shining a strange light you see even through your closed lids. 'Don't be a stranger,' He begs.<<endif>>\n<<if $DancedFlora is "yes">>Flora gives you a firm and hungry peck on the lips. There is curious but not unpleasant sensation of chill, as though you were waking in the depths of winter from a long sleep. 'I wouldn't be terribly upset if you were to return,' she tells you.<<endif>>\n\n[[You make your way back to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

You wake to find yourself in a great pavilion. A dome of crystalline glass rises above your head. The sun's soft rays peek through the layers of fallen ivy that shade the dome. \n\nA woman in a long, white gown, in a style so old-fashioned the word 'vintage' would blush at being applied. \n\nShe is sat in a painted iron chair (also white), drinking tea (jasmine, by the smell) from a dainty little cup. There is a tea service laid out on a white table beside her. Another chair, this time vacant, sits opposite. An empty cup waits before it. \n\n'Oh!' The lady exclaims on seeing you. 'Forgive my manners! It's been so long since anyone has come this way. Shall I pour?'\n\n[[Accept her offer with gratitude|Tea poured]].\n[[No. You'll have tea after you've learnt her name first|Name]].

Dominic leads you farther down the coast, where behind a rock, he has secreted all of the picnic things.\n\nSweetmeats, loaves of bread, a bottle of rose wine, chutnies, mustards, jams, scones, cream, ginger beer - a veritable feast laid out on the sands. There is a small hamper, with the letter 'M' emblazoned on the wicker. 'This was left to us, I think.' He frowns. 'Or perhaps we found it. This happens sometimes.' He smiles, 'Well, let's get to it.' \n\nYou spend a happy few minutes tucking away the cultery into the special compartment in the hamper, slipping the wine into its holder, before carefully layering the food. Eventually, the hamper is full. \n\n'Oh no!' Dominic cries, his face falling. 'We've left these out.' He holds up two jars. One is for jam, the other marmite. You look back at the hamper. Even with rearranging everything, there is probably only space for a single jar. \n\n'I love marmite,' Dominic says wistfully, 'But no-one else seems able to stand it. And without the jam we shan't be able to have scones. The others would complain, I'm sure.' He stares at the two jars, seemingly racked with indecision.\n\n[[Pack the jam jar. No-one likes marmite|Jam]].\n[[Insist upon the marmite. You mightn't like it, but it would make him happy|Marmite]].

<<if $VisitedStream is "yes">>The forest falls away to reveal a narrow stream laughing its way through the whispering wood. \n\nYou come to a stop at the side of the river and gaze down into its water depths. Shapes of rocks and other moving things dance and shimmer in the swift-moving stream. The river is silent, but for a call from a little hole, where a tree has fallen to cross the raging brook.\n\n[[Find the source of the voice|Cecily in the Stream]].<<else>>\n\nThe forest falls away to reveal a narrow stream laughing its way through the whispering wood. \n\nYou come to a stop at the side of the river and gaze down into its water depths. Shapes of rocks and other moving things dance and shimmer in the swift-moving stream. The river is swelling. \n\n'Storm's hungry,' a pleasant female voice, rushing and breathless like the flow of the river, 'Soon it'll feed. And in feeding, the river will run fast and strong.' \n\nThe voice you realise is coming from the stream itself.\n\n[[Answer the voice|Nysa the Undine]].\n[[You will not talk to strange voices in the water. You leave|Into the Woods]].<<endif>>

<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>>The witch grins. It is not a happy expression. More like as though a knife had learned to bend itself in the shape of a smile. \n\nShe stands, and moves into the moonlight pouring through the sheen of fall. Her skin is worn all over with burn marks that entwine about her frail flesh like adders, hissing, venemous adders. \n\n'Tried that once. Wasn't left with much good to show for it.' She moves as though to menace you with her scorched hands, and you dart past her. Her laughter, harsh, like a scythe falling, echoes around the cave. \n\nA dark entrance way stands before you. \n\n[[Enter the cave|Leaving the witch]].

Eventually you come to a vast rambling House, perched on a terrace brooding over the maze and gardens to the east. Great gables jut ominously out onto the darkling sky. The design at first appears to be Mock Tudor, but on closer inspection reveals itself to be the genuine article. Magnificently preserved - or perhaps embalmed is the more appropriate word. Cobwebs occlude the rooms inside from clear view, but you endeavor to peer inside a few on the ground floor all the same. You don't seem much but what you are able to is simply ghastly. Deliciously so. \n\n'This way,' Flora says, her sensible shoes tapping on the flagstones that lead up to the great mahogany wood door. 'Don't bother with the bell, that will only summon Ashforth.' \nMiles giggles. 'And we haven't got the chalk to draw a protective circle, so let's not.' \n\nFlora draws a set of keys from within her frock-coat and unlocks a side door, built inconspicuously into the turret-room that looms next to the great main door. The chattering of animals can be heard, and the warm vegetable scent of tropical plants kept in a hot enviroment. After the chill of the maze, it seems just the thing.\n\n[[Step inside|The Conservatory]].

You recall the beach, the boat, and Julian, Dominic, and Margaret running down to a sunlit sea. You drink deep of the tea. \n\n[[You wake|Wake Summer]].

You turn another interminable bend in the hedges, only to find yourself stood before a marble statue on a grey-stone plinth. The statue is an angel, as apparently, are the two pale blonde youths stood gazing up at it. \n\n'Hello,' Says the male of the two, apparently unsurprised to see you emerge somewhat distraught from the hedgerow. \n'Yes. Hullo.' Says the female, disinterested. 'I suppose you must be dreaming.' \nYou concur. \n'I'm Flora, she continues, 'this is my brother, Miles'\n'How do you do?' Miles asks, taking your hand. His manner is deeply serious, accenuated by his old-fashioned cream-coloured suit. \nFlra peers at you down her spectacles. 'I don't suppose you'd want to join us? We're solving a mystery.' \n'Yes,' Miles says, suddenly filled with excitement, 'There's something rotten in the attic. Would you like to come with us and see?'\n\n[[Why not? Embark upon a mystery|Yes mystery]].\n[[This is all a little odd. Perhaps not|No mystery]].

You walk south through another archway, and into a long, sloping garden bordering a lake. Fountains run between the path, which finishes on a broad expanse of grass before the lake. Stepping stones run across the shallow end of the water, whilst a well-kept boat-house sits on the far side. Willows droop into the cool, dark water, and dappled shadows reflect on the lake surface. \n\n[[Explore the boat-house|Boat-house]].\n[[Look into the lake|Lake]].\n[[Wander the water garden|Around the water garden]].\n[[Return to the rose garden|rose garden]].\n\n

<<set $MillicentsFoosteps += 1>>'This is the skullery,' Flora says in a whisper, as she gently opens the door. You get a brief glimpse of the room - high ceilinged with a wall full of servants' bells, before Miles calls out in an urgent whisper: 'Be careful you don't! - Oh no, you have.'\n\nThere is a skull on the table. It begins to scream. \n\n[[You close the door in rather a hurry|The Bathroom]].

Jack turns after you. He looks at the sky gathering strength behind you, and the ashen blasted oak beyond. He looks at you again, and shakes his head. 'Well, I'll be. You owe me for this, friend.' \n\nHe takes your hand, and this time he follows you, onwards storm. \n\nYou walk up the last few metres of the steep slope, to find yourself upon the pale hillside, lit by the hanging moon and the occasional flash of lightning, both of which only serve to illuminate the only landmark: a lightning-blasted oak-tree at the top of the hill.\n\n[[Walk towards the oak|Blasted Oak]].

<<set $StayingBehind += 1>>Oscar nods slowly, as do your friends. A tense series of negotiations follows, the sticking point being the unequal division which might follow between a split in half between the four of you, whilst the cat retains a half entirely to himself. \n\nThis is swiftly resolved when Dominic offers to forego his share entirely, and Margaret protests tiredness. The split goes ahead, half and half, the gold being Oscar's to divide as he sees fit, of course. But he has something else, for you alone. From the depths of the chest, he fishes out a medallion bearing the insignia of a familiar woman. The others gasp. 'She was here long ago. She was a dreamer.' Margaret says, 'She must have let this float out to sea. Maybe she didn't want to remember.' \n\nYou close your hands around the medallion. \n\nOscar waves you off from the beach. You pile the 50 gold coins on the deck, as you sail the ship back to shore. Margaret has brought cards, and Dominic produces candles. You laugh and play all the way home, the sun sinking fast in the sky.\n\nYou land on the coast before you know it. You can see the Pavilion peering over the dunes.\n\n[[It is almost time to leave|Leaving Summer]].

James StAnthony

Aisling nods solemnly and pours the remnants of the last brew into the two cups. Tea leave float in the horn and the ivory. \n\n'So, you wish to wake? I suppose we all must, one day. Remember, if you drink from the ivory cup you will forget all of this, but the dreams will be open to other dreamers to come. If you drink from the horn, you may choose one of the dreams to visit whenever you sleep, but the rest will be lost always. Choose carefully, dreamer. I do not envy you this choice.' \n\n[[Drink from the ivory cup|Drank Ivory]].\n[[Drink from the horn cup|Drank Horn]].\n<<if $StayingBehind eq 4>>[[Because she has never made this choice. It is time for Aisling to wake|Aisling wake]].<<endif>>\n[[No. You are not yet ready to wake|The Pavilion]].

<<set $SummerTruth = "yes">>Dominic nods his head, his black curls falling over his too-large green eyes. 'That's good. It's been too long since a dreamer came here to be our friend. And we've learnt so much since. The other one hasn't been here in so long. I think she's forgotten about us.' \n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>The Fox on your shoulders scoffs. 'I should certainly say so!'<<endif>>\n\n'Come on,' Julian says, rolling his eyes, 'We have to be getting on.' \n\nDominic nods, a sparkle in his eyes, as though they reflect the waves rolling in. 'Come with us!' He cries, as they begin to run down towards the shoreline. \n\n[[You run after them|Shoreline]].

<<set $StormAppeased += 1>><<set $CompanionJack is "no">>You watch as Jack, axe held before him like a talisman, enters the domain of the Woodman, like a gladiator walking into the arena. \n\nThey circle each other for a time, before in a flash of steel, Jack is on the Woodman, axe lodged in the great branch that forms the Woodman's spine. The Woodman brings his axe down upon Jack, but Jack twists, and that axe too lodges within the Woodman himself. Jack springs back, and pulls the Woodman's axe from his torso, and begins to hack-away at the Woodman, who twitches, sticks blowing in the wind. \n\nEventually Jack stands alone, atop a mess of discarded branches, chopped wood, and fallen leaves. He waves you on as he hoists the remnants over his shoulder along with his axe, and departs into the forest, back where you met him, whistling a tune. At last he departs from sight, and you are alone. \n\nYou walk up the last few metres of the steep slope, to find yourself upon the pale hillside, lit by the hanging moon and the occasional flash of lightning, both of which serve to illuminate the only landmark: a lightning-blasted oak-tree at the top of the hill.\n\n[[Walk towards the oak|Blasted Oak]].

There is little to see. A box of matches and a flask of coacoa, tucked away inside the scorched shelter. A metal rod, raised high to the sky like a soldier's salute, extending from the undergrowth to tower above the bivouac. \n\n[[Talk to the woodcutter|Jack the woodcutter]].\n[[Leave the bivouac|Into the Woods]].

Despite your misgivings, you head in. The wreck does indeed stink of seaweed. Barnacles and the like have encrusted themselves onto the dark, rotting wood. Rats scurry about in the dark. By god, this must be a veritable haven of them. \n\nYou try not to worry too much about where you're stepping, but after not very long, you hear a crunch of bone. Not promising.\n\nYou look down. Very small bones. A whole pile of them in fact. Very cleanly done, you think, as you wonder as the piles of rat bones scattered all about. \n\nSuddenly, further along the beach, you head Dominic begin to shout.\n\n[[You race off to the source of the shouting|Found treasure]].

Oscar curses you all to the depths of the ocean as you heft the chest on your shoulders and make for the craft. \n'And don't think to come back here, either. I'll train the rats to attack on sight, you scury knaves.' \n\nThe cat practically chases you off the island, as you set sail once more. Julian is delighted, crowing about your great victory, but Dominic seems a little uneasy. Still, Margaret soon has you all telling tales of high adventures to come, and the journey back is an easy one. \n\nSoon you are back on the coast, as the sun drops behind the sky. You see the Pavilion over the dunes. \n\n[[It is almost time to leave|Leaving Summer]].

The cat starts, and gazes up at you, eyes blinking in the radiant light. 'What? Did I win something?' \n\nYou express confusion. 'I found it! The perfect place to have the picnic!' The cat seems very proud of itself. It rolls over, exposing its large stomach to you. Eventually, you are forced to pet it. \n\n'So I'm sure you could run along and fetch the others now. I suppose that's what you're here for?'\n\n[[Explain to the cat what you're up to|Invited big cat]].\n[[Leave the cat to dream in the sunlight. It can sleep through the picnic|Greenhouse]].

If the year were a clock, and the cycle of seasons its face, tonight the larger hand would be pointing to half past the hour. The air is balmy, and you have left the windows open. A warm breeze drifts in through the gently billowing curtains. In the background, the televison is set to static. In the kitchen, a talk-show chatters away on the radio. \n\nYou are sprawled on the couch, head resting on your hands, a novel of sporadic interest abandoned beside you. On the wall, the clock chimes down the hours. Almost midnight, dark washing in outside. \n\nYou are home alone. You think you prefer it this way. Somewhere beyond the darkening skies visible from your opened window, you can hear waves.\n\n[[Slowly, like the tide coming in, you sleep|But in dreams]].

You step out onto a long, dusty corridor. Yellow wallpaper peels from the walls in long spirals like discarded apple-skin. \n\nTwo doors stand on either side. Through a skylight above, a snowstorm shrieks and rattles. You note, with equal parts distaste and delight, that the air really is rotten up here. Flora and Miles look thrilled. 'I knew I was right!' Flora says gleefully, 'Now, which door?'\n\n<<if $MillicentsFootsteps gte 2>>There is a shadow growing on the wallpaper. Something is creeping about in the mustard yellow. A shadowy figure grows and grows till the stairs back down to the House are occluded by a huge, female shape. The shadow spreads over you. 'I thought I heard noises.' Thunder rumbles. 'You've been told about the attic.' Lightning strikes.\n\nMiles pales. 'Oh no. It's Millicent!' He and Flora look to you, panic in their luminescent eyes.'<<endif>>\n\n[[Try the left door|Morpheus' chamber]].\n[[Try the right door|The Attic]].

The clouds gather and boil above the lonely hill. Lightning shatters the sky. Driving winds and rain scour the hillside. You feel very exposed. \n\n<<if $StormAppeased gte 3>>Storm howls towards you, shaking the sky, the hill, the oak. The forest bows and trembles as storm rages over, drenching all with a cloud of rain and darkness. Light is out but for the occasional flash of lightning. And then as suddenly as it is here, it is gone, the moon shining through the lightening clouds. The oak breathes a long sigh of relief. \n\n[[Storm, it seems, has passed over|Storm Appeased]].<<endif>>\n\n<<if $StormEmbraced gte 3>>Storm shrieks above you, splitting the sky with rain and lightning. Thunder blasts like a horn, the sound of an invading army as though gathered on the far side of the hill - on the other side of the sky. The sky is black, and oak trembles. Storm gathers strength - a strike of lightning nearer - and nearer - and nearer - \n\nOak goes up in flame, as you dive backwards. Storm rolls backwards, over all the wood. The sky is dark, with no sight of moonlight.\n[[Lightning has struck twice. Storm is here to stay|Storm Embraced]].<<endif>>\n\n<<if $WhatTheThunderSaid gte 3>>Storm gathers above you. The sky as black as a pirate's sail. The hill rolls with thunder. Lightning strikes the sky like a knife. The moon hides. Oak trembles. \n\nAnd then Storm speaks. DREAMER COMES AGAIN. HAS BEFORE. DREAMER CHANGES WITH STORM. TIME IS HERE.\n\n[[Storm speaks to you|What the thunder says]].<<endif>>

The bathroom is lit only by dim candlelight. Lacy curtains billow pleasingly in the raging storm outside. Flora and Miles' pallid faces are lit occasionally by the terrible illumination of lightning struck. Snow blows in from the open'd window. \n\nYou note the excessive and echoing size of the room. The white bathroom cabinet is scored by a waterfall of blood-red stains, that on closer inspection appears to be candlewax. Miles shakes his head and mutters something about 'The Baron's Blight' but will say no more. \n\n'I can't imagine we'll find too much in here, but you never know.' Flora says, unlocking the bathroom cabinet with a set of lockpicks she pulls from her blouse. \n\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the bathroom]].\n\nThere are two doors, going left and right. There is a sound like screaming from the right. There is only a forbidding silence from the left. \n\n[[Take the left door|The gallery]].\n[[Take the right door|Skullery]].

Listerine. Formaldehyde. Bathsalts. The common acoutrements of a well maintained bathroom. \n\nFlora pockets a candle to light your way in the dark. \n'How's that old nursery rhyme go?' Miles wonders aloud, 'and here is a candle to light your way to bed, and here comes the axeman to chop off your head?' \n\nThere is, however, a receipt stashed behind the bathroom cabinet. A vast quantity of sugar has been purchased from the Perkins' General Store.\n\n'But we don't buy from the Perkins!?' Flora exclaims. 'Not since the Great Reckoning upon the Heath!' \n'Mama will never buy from them again,' Miles says, shaking his had sadly, 'Not until the Dunsinane Wood comes to pass.'\n\nIt is a mystery. \n\n[[Take the left door|The gallery]].\n[[Take the right door|Skullery]].

The pleasure garden is more like a park than a garden, with wild roses and poppies interpersed with tulips and daffodils running carefree across a long meadow. On a raised slope of land sits a large arbour, fitted with a long table and hanging seats. A pond lies next to it, the water clear and reed-lined. The air here is fresh and clement. \n\n[[Explore the arbour|The Arbour]].\n[[Wander about the pleasure garden|Explore the pleasure garden]].\n[[Examine the pond|Pond]].\n[[Return to the rose garden|rose garden]].

You approach the oak on the blasted heath. Two branches poke forlornly upwards from a blackened stump. The oak is lightning-shot. \n\n'I have felt you in my forest.' It speaks in a voice of exhaustion. 'With you came Storm, like last time.' The wind rattles across the hill, sending the yellowing grass bending. The oak sighs. 'Change comes. Winds turn. Storm returns. I wonder how it will be this time. Will it pass by? Will it transform us? Will lightning strike twice? Or will the thunder speak?' \n\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>'And you have come again, Fox. Wondering why she left you, no doubt?' The oak speaks disinterested, branches bending in the gathering winds. Cecily jumps onto the oak, and climbs the branch. 'Yes, old stupid oak, I am. I will not be cast off again!' The Fox looks up into storm.<<endif>>\n\nThere is a flash of lightning, and thunder rolls over the hill. You clasp your hands to your ears.\n\n'Storm is here.' The oak intones.\n\n[[Storm rises around you|Storm]].

What a strange dream! You rise from your couch, your mind thick with sleep. Odd images fall from your eyes like stars, gone by the time you have pulled open the curtains. The radio is still playing. \n\nYou feel incredibly well rested - the best sleep you've had in some time. A shame you can remember so little of your dreams. \n\nYou go through your day, feeling strangely as though spring is in the air, but think little of it. \n\nThat night, you dream of the garden. They are all there, waiting. 'There's to be a picnic,' the robin says, 'Fear not! We've organised it this time...' \n\n\n

The voices might be just around the next bend. The lights in the manor house nearby seem that little brighter. That little redder, as though scarlet candles burn the midnight hour inside. \n\nThere is another fork. The ground crunches with hoarfrost underfoot.\n\n[[Take the left|Final left]].\n[[Take the right|First right]].

There is a grunt, and a thud behind you. Margaret has succeeded in dragging the little craft out to sea. \n\n'Come on,' She says, 'Told you I could do it. The boys will be waiting.'\n\n[[You follow Margaret back to the shoreline|Embarking]].

You ascend the swaying ladder, the rabbit chattering away on your shoulder, still encumbered by his rescued charts. \n\nAt the top, the treehouse is a cosy little hideaway, improbably fitted out with a fireplace, several comfortable armchairs, maps and starcharts plastering the sycamore-wood walls, and a skylight out of which pokes the great telescope. The rabbit jumps from your shoulders and lands with a thud. It begins excitedly rummaging about the charts piled onto a little table. Your companion is close by. \n\n'Do forgive me, I'm being dreadfully rude. So much to do! So much to see! Sit down, do, and help yourself to the chestnuts. I roasted them myself.'\n\nThe rabbit seems content to leave you alone for the moment. \n[[Converse with the rabbit. What's going on here|Astrolabe]]?\n[[Peek through the telescope. It's there, after all|Telescope]].\n[[Examine the charts|Charts]].

The bats come as something of a surprise. They fly past your face, wings brushing against your skin, and out into the waiting night. Flora names they as they pass her by.\n'No, wait, that's Mornir.' Miles says, as the last and largest flutters past. \n'Oh, of course. Poor Mornir. After the Unpleasantness.'\n'Ah,' Miles says solemnly, 'The Unpleasantness.' \n\nThey seem content to mutter amongst themselves for hours, so you step inside. It might once have been a pleasant conservatory, but layers of bat excretions, an unfortunate fondness for Bleeding Heartwine, and some truly despicable upholstery has rendered the whole affair truly ghastly. \n\nFlora looks about herself with withering disdain. 'It could be so nice, if Mother could pry herself from the laudanum.' \n'Or the wireless,' shudders Miles, 'Awful thing.' \n'We could look for clues here, I suppose, though I can't imagine Father's left much of interest lying about.' Flora looks at you and shrugs. 'I don't know how much prying about the semi-abandoned homes of complete strangers appeals to you.'\n\nThere are two doors leading further into the shuttered confines of the House. \n\n[[Search for clues, despite Flora's general despondency|Clues in the Conservatory]].\n[[Take the door to the left|The kitchen]].\n[[Take the door to the right|The drawing room]].

<<set $VisitedSpring = "yes">>All good things must come to an end, but the faint melancholy that overcomes you is offset by the amount of compliments you receive as each guest exits. The general consensus, even including the robin, is that no-one could have organised a finer picnic, and you receive an invitation to visit whenever you like, with proposed menus being scribbled on napkins, and other potential culinary adventures produced for inspection. Someone even suggests you might like a proper tour of the gardens. \n\n<<if $InvitedFairy is "yes">>As you stand to make your exit, a voice calls you over. It is the fairy, her eyes bright with merriment. \n\n'Oh, what a marvellous picnic! And everyone came! I haven't had such a jolly time in years. Let me thank you with a little piece of information - I've known many dreamers, including the last who stayed. Yes! Stayed of her own volition, to look out over the dreams - but as you see, she has not come by in a long time. It may be her time to depart - if you wished to take her place.'\n\nShe sighs, before continuing. 'Would that time kept all of us unchanged, but like the seasons, we turn, tide after tide until we are other than we were. A change might be upon you, if you will it. You would need to give her her own name back, for she has forgot. And a reminder of who she was. Finally, you would need proof of some sort that the year of dreams has turned round again and that it is her time to leave, and yours to stay.'\n\nShe laughs. 'If you wish to, of course! You might have better things to do with your time than look after we stuffy lot! Though if you have found your way here - perhaps not.' \n\nAnd with that, she closes her eyes. <<set $StayingBehind += 1>> <<endif>>\n\nEventually, you are left alone, with the sun hanging high on the sky, glinting off the Pavilion in the distance. \n\n[[It is time to return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

<<set $InvitedLions = "yes">>The lions look delighted, plaster faces beaming causing more paint to flake off.\n\nImmediately, however, there are problems. \n\n'You see,' says the white lion, 'The picnic was going to be here in the shade of the walled garden.'\n\n'We understand the rain might bother those more susceptible to damp, so we quite understand the need for changing venues,' The red lion continues, 'Only we must have shade, you see.' \n\n'Precisely,' says the white. 'We shall certainly come, if you happen to find us a location with plenty of shadows. We really don't wish to frighten anybody.'\n\nThis being said, the lions seem contended. They watch you walk on, waiting until you have vanished from sight before moving.\n\n[[Continue your exploration of the walled garden|Walled Gardens]].

'Woodland creatures and such,' Cecily says, wagging their tail like one might shake a duster at a particularly irascible spider. 'And some of the Others, who might as well be woodland creatures. All natives here. And then there's you.' Cecily's eyes gleam in the fading sunlight, brighter against the darkening sky. \n\n[[You have other questions for Cecily|Cecily and sides]].\n[[You have finished your conversation with Cecily, and you head into the forest|Into the Woods]].

You step out onto the sands, the sun rising to meet you as you leave the Pavilion behind. The sky is cornflower blue, and gulls call in the distance. The path winds between high dunes, and dune-grass blows on the sand-banks. The salt of the sea rushes to greet you on the breeze. \n\nThe path winds down towards a beach, a cove of golden sand washed by an azure sea. The path becomes a series of sand-covered boards, that plank by plank guide you down to where the sand covers your feet. You reach down and gather two handfuls, and watch the sand blow from your clenched fists into the wind. \n\nThe sun is at its zenith, and you are alone but for the gulls and the gentle roar of the waves.\n\n[[Except for the voice that calls out to you|Voice on the beach]].

You turn, like the year, round again. You are confronted with a dead end. The air is bitter cold. \n\nThe hedge is thick with frost, like an aged man with white in his beard. \n\nThe stars shine in the sky above. \n\n[[You return back the way you came|Second right]].

<<set $Dauntless = "yes">>The Dauntless it is. Margaret whoops, and runs up onto the deck, ready at the helm. \n\n[[You board the Dauntless|Setting Sail]].

You poke your head through the archway and find yourself in the midst of a garden every bit as clement as it looked from the outside. The grass is damp with fresh dew. The scent of spring flowers drifts on the wind. \n\nYou pause to examine the bluebells and to smell the honeysuckle wound through the trellis, before making your way over to the table, which wobbles slightly in the breeze. \n\nThe robin dances over the table to you, wings spread as though about to take off. \n\n'You're late,' it hoots, indignantly, 'Which is just as well, the picnic's been called off.' \n\nYou express sympathy, and the robin bobs its heads appreciatively, 'Blasted rain, if you'll pardon my English. We need somewhere indoors to retire to, but the House is shut up, and frankly awful drear.' You look up. The skies are currently clear, but do seem to threaten rain later in the day. The robin lets out a long, mournful sigh. 'It's always the way. And everyone's gone haring off into the garden, trying to be helpful. I can't keep them in line like I used to! There's no hope for it - ' The robin tilts his head to look up at you. 'Unless, well, would you mind looking for everyone? And possibly somewhere we might take the picnic and not get drenched? You being late and all, it seems only fair.' \n\n[[Say yes. You were late after all, to this event you had no notion of till moments ago|Robin yes]].\n[[Say no. You had no idea, and besides you are not late actually|Robin no]].

The stars are growing in the sky. The air is bitter chill, and your breath earthly cold. \n\nThe path forks once more. \n\n[[Take the right again|Final right]].\n[[Take the left|First right]].

What a strange dream! You rise from your couch, your mind thick with sleep. Odd images fall from your eyes like stars, gone by the time you have pulled open the curtains. The radio is still playing. \n\nYou feel incredibly well rested - the best sleep you've had in some time. A shame you can remember so little of your dreams. \n\nYou go through your day, feeling strangely as though a storm is on its way, but think little of it. \n\nThat night, you dream of the forest. The air is thick with storm, the sky black with clouds. A rabbit runs past you, out towards a dark hill. 'Storm's coming,' Somebody says, 'There's work to be done.'\n

The charts, arrayed around the room like leaves tossed about by a gale, look on first glance like star charts. But on closer inspection, they are storm charts. Sightings, landmarks stricken, and paths of previous storms have all been marked upon a highly abstract rendering of the nearby landscape. At the centre of them all is an oak - noted as Blasted, above which is written: STORM SPEAKS.\n\n[[You tear your attention from the charts lest the rabbit think you too nosy|Treehouse]].

<<set $VisitedSummer = "yes">>You are delayed when someone suggests a bonfire, but eventually leave you must. There are other adventures to be had. \n\n<<if $SummerTruth is "yes">>The others look at you, as you gather yourself up. 'The dreamers always leave,' Dominic says sadly. Julian shakes his head, so you can't see the tears welling in his eyes. Margaret claps you on the back. 'Don't be a stranger,' she says. At the end, even Julian hugs you, before you go walking on, away from the sea and the moon hanging over it and your little gathering of friends waiting on the shore. \n[[You walk the path back to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].<<endif>>\n\n<<if $SummerLied is "yes">>There is a moment of confusion as you beging to gather yourself up to go. And then realisation sinks in. Dominic looks crestfallen, Julian upset. Margaret merely shakes her head. 'So, you're a dreamer after all. I didn't think pieces of new dream really washed in like flotsam.' She hugs you tight, as eventually so do the other two. Dominic's tears wet your collar. Julian sighs. 'You're always welcome back.' 'Yes!' Dominic says, 'If you can find someway to stay.' His words trail off in the night, as you start up on the path, away from the sea and the moon hanging over it and your little gathering of friends waiting on the shore.\n[[You walk the path back to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].<<endif>>

The room beyond is indeed rotten. Alcoholic fumes roll about the degraded attic floor. The wallpaper hangs like condemned criminals from the walls. A great glass device broods in the corner. A large man is sleeping on an iron bedstead, surrounded by empty bottles. \n\nA great decanter drips with water. A vast pile of sugar cubes is on a soiled dish beside. \n\n'Father?' Flora asks, in tones of wonderment and growing disappointment. \n'Here, taste this' Miles says, picking up one of the half-drunk bottles, filled with a curious emerald liquid. 'It smells like liquorice.' \n\nYou take a swig. The taste is unmistakeable. Absinthe. You reveal this to the others. Miles begins to giggle. Flora merely sighs. \n\n'I think, on reflection, that this was perhaps not a mystery that needed to be solved.' \n\n[[You creep out of the attic|End of the mystery]].

Beyond the meadow, the forest opens up to enclose you. You pass like a whisper through the thick canopy of pine. Beneath your feet fallen leaves and pine needles tremor as you pass. The sky above is dark, and beneath the trees all is hushed. The air is hot, but rain is beginning to fall. Most is caught by the trees, boughs stretched up to take the water in, but a few stray droplets catch your upturned cheek.\n\nTo your left, a bivouac has been constucted on a rise, the blackened wood dark against the sea of red and amber fallen around it. To your right, you can hear rushing water where the ground dips down, out of sight. \n\n[[Head to your left and the bivouac|Biawac]].\n[[Go to the right and the water|Stream]].

You wander round the garden, making sure to see every hue of tulip from sunset to sunrise, and smell every wild rose you can find. You are halted in this particular enterprise when you happen across a bed of wild roses of a white hue, currently squashed by a small, calico cat sleeping heavily on top. \n\nTry as you might, nothing you can do seems to stir the cat, though she is definitely breathing. You can tell by the snoring. \n\n[[Sadly, you have been thwarted. Explore elsewhere|Pleasure Gardens]].\n<<if $HasWateringCan is "yes">>[[You could, if you wished, sprinkle water onto the cat. That ought to wake her|Invited little cat]].<<endif>>

'So, here you are. The House of All Seasons. I should really give you the tour.' She stands and takes your hand, leading you around the pavilion. \n\nThere are four entrances to the dome, from which lead four paths. The pleasant archways that support the pavilion are positioned in the centre of the four walls, at each of the cardinal directions of the compass. \n\nThe first archway, heading eastwards, looks out onto a pleasant series of walled gardens, which the pavilion clearly sits at the foot of. The sun shines over the long lawns, though the grass still glistens with fresh rain. \n\nThe second archway, heading southwards, leads onto a long winding path through a series of sandunes, sheltered by tall Marram grass that blows in a sea-breeze. The sun hangs high above. \n\nThe third archway, heading westwards, steps down onto an enclosed walkway, overhung by a thick canopy of oak and pine, wendings its way out into a dark forest. The leaves are reddening, and the path is heavy with fallen greenery. \n\nThe fourth archway, heaving northwards, extends onto a hedge-maze, looping around and away from the garden, and towards an imposing manor, brooding on the horizon. Frost-rime glistens in the hedges, and the holly is bedecked with red berries. \n\n'So you see, all seasons in a day.' Aisling says, taking your arm. 'There's just one thing more.'\n\n[[What is it, you ask|The test]]?

<<set $StormAppeased += 1>>Of course, you wouldn't dream of interfering with Astrolabe's things!\n\nYou sit quietly with Astrolabe and take a cup of tea - it is reminiscent of Aisling's but stronger, fresher, yet older - like a holly bush strained, with an aftertaste of ivy and juniper. \n\nAstrolabe proves a fascinating companion, and you learn much of the weather patterns of the local area. The storm seems quieter, and you think you hear a skylark call from somewhere. \n\n[[Regretably all good things must come to an end, it is time for you to depart|Heart of the Wood]].

<<set $SummerHelp +="1">>Julian blanches as you get into full flow. You remind him of the many good qualities of his supposed friends, their, and for that matter, your, willingness to put up with his pigheadedness, follow him on his wild schemes, and treat him like a compatriot. Why, if they spoke to him half the way he spoke to them, well, there'd be tears before bedtime, that's all you'll say. \n\nEventually you have to pause for breath. Julian stifles a sob. 'I'm sorry,' he mumbles, 'I know I'm a bad egg.'\nYou try and assure him that this wasn't an attack on his character so much as his behaviour - \n'No, I know I've been an absolute rotter. I suppose I'm jealous. I don't have Margaret's drive - to always plough on, you know? And I couldn't manage a thing the way Dom does. Imagine me putting together a picnic! I'd make a pig's ear of it.' He sighs deeply. 'You're right. I've been such an ass. I'll try to make amends. I've better friends than I deserve. I should try and be worthy - strive, like Mags does for everything else.' His lower lip trembles, but Julian sticks his chin out defiantly.\n\nYour heart to heart is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Dominic shouting from somewhere behind you.\n[[You both run to the source of the shouting|Found treasure]].

<<set $InvitedStarling = "yes">>The starling flies about your head happily. 'Oh, I am so glad someone other than the robin is organising this. I am not fussed where we have the picnic, so long as there is one.'\n\nShe comes to a rest on your hat and pauses. 'Although, I really wouldn't fancy being in an enclosed space with the heron. If that could be avoided, I shall be there. If not, well I wish you a happy luncheon!' With that she flies off.\n\n[[You continue exploring the water garden|Water Gardens]].

<<set $VisitedAutumn = "yes">>The sky is light. Storm a blur of grey clouds moving south. The moon rises in her fullness. Oak sighs. 'Thank you,' it says, 'I wouldn't like to have been lit again.' A nightingale calls from somewhere in the wood. \n\n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack grins, and surprisingly, embraces you in his strong arms. 'That's it, gone and good riddance. Forest can breathe easy again.' He exhales. 'Phew. As can I. Thank you friend, forest can dream easy once more.' He holds you again, before walking off down towards the brightening wood, whistling as he goes.<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>Water pours sullenly from the cup in your hands. Nysa sighs. 'Going to try and catch up. Maybe storm will still have us.' With that that, the water runs down the hillside, a sad little trickle chasing after Storm.<<endif>>\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>The Fox shakes its head. 'A pity. I suppose it was always going to go one way or another.' They walk on, back towards the forest. 'Maybe next time. And there will be a next time.' With that, Cecily is gone, a red blur in the dark.<<endif>>\n\nThe forest is free of storm. The sky is light, and the trees sigh contentedly. The moon hangs happy in a clear sky. On the far side of the hill, you spy a path leading back to the Pavilion. You think it is time to leave this dream and the autumn wood behind.\n\n[[Return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

'Aisling. Formerly the nameless lady in white who offered you tea.' \n\nShe waves her fan in your direction. 'I could ask the same of you, person who wakes up in my pavilion and drinks my tea. Who were you before, and does it matter? Is this 'you' the same as the sleeping 'you'? \n\nShe smiles and flutters her fan. 'Truth be told, I don't know. I woke, like you have, and have been here ever since. I've seen as much as I've cared to and spend my time answering the questions of the few dreamers who wash up on these strange shores. Not that that happens very often, mind.' \n\nShe sighs, like the sound of the sea washing against a sandy coastline at low tide. Do you have other questions?\n\n[[No. You think you are ready for whatever comes next|Now what]].\n[[Yes. Where are you, to start with|Where Am I]]?\n[[Are you dreaming|Am I Dreaming]]?\n[[Yes. Is there more tea|More Tea]]?

Aisling listens politely to the full unexpurgated speech. You hadn't realised you had such strong feelings on the subject. You quite amaze yourself. \n\nWhen you are finished, she nods once, but offers no comment. Instead she pushes the sugar bowl, which previously had lain hidden behind the round bauble of the teapot, towards you. She smiles. 'I must have seemed very rude not to offer.' \n\nThere is a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Aisling gathers her shawls about her shoulders and shivers.\n'I suppose I ought to be getting on with it. You must have questions.' \n\n[[Yes. Where are you, to start with|Where Am I]]?\n[[Are you dreaming|Am I Dreaming]]?\n[[Who is Aisling|Who Are You]]?\n[[Yes. Is there more tea|More Tea]]?

The robin sets off to spread the word. The picnic is to go ahead in the glasshouse. He is, you note, much faster than you were. \n\nYou make a dash for the greenhouse, up the steps and along the walkways; the plants offering little shelter from the increasing rainstorm. Thankfully, the greenhouse door has been left open, and you are soon inside the lovely warmth of the glasshouse. Several trays of orchids have been moved, and a large table prepared, with a cheery red and white chequered tablecloth laid over the soil-stained plastic. Cheeses, fine wines, sparkling water, cured meats, quince jelly, scones, cream, and jam have been laid out beautifully. You take a seat by the largest napkin and await the other guests.\n\n<<if $InvitedFish is "yes">>You pop the watering can on the chair next to you, and soon the laughing fish is drinking from sparkling water and making conversation from within the echoey chamber of its temporary home.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedLittleCat is "yes">>With a yawn, the little cat enters the picnic, curling herself up on the comfiest seat. You think she remains awake for the duration, but you're somewhat suspicious when the cheeseboard circulates.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedBigCat is "yes">>The little cat is soon accompanied by the larger cat, who jumps from a rosemary pot with a heavy thud. His discourse is elegant and his manners impeccable, though the wines don't circulate far from his place-setting.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedStarling is "yes">>With no sign of the heron, the starling swoops in, and nervously nibbles at the potato salad. After the introduction of the port, she becomes a much more elouquent conversationalist, and soon has the table laughing uproariously at her tales of adventure and narrow escapes.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedBasilPlant is "yes">>Someone positions the basil plant at a seat, and although you do not see him eat nor drink, he expresses gratitude for the amount of sunlight he is currently being exposed to, so you assume he is contented, particularly after the rain clears up half-way through.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\nAt last, the robin arrives, announcing that all who would come are here. He is very gracious towards your efforts, expressing astonishment that he had not thought of the greenhouse himself. \n\nEventually, the food and the skies are cleared up. Someone suggests a nap is on the horizon, and slowly but surely the picnic comes to an end. \n\n[[You help clear away the picnic things|Picnic End]].\n

<<set $WhatTheThunderSaid += 1>>You break into a run, just as the axe is brought down with a final thud behind you, where you had been standing only moments before . Storm is silent, as though watching, as you make for the hill.\n\n[[Run on|Leaving the Woodman]].

You bend down to peer up into the sky. \n\nThus kneeling, you position your head under the great sycamore-scope, and gaze out onto the night. \n\nLooking up, you see into black clouds, purple-lightning flashing in the heart of what appears to be Storm. Thunder and gold-grey light rumble across the swirling anger of the gathering tempest. \n\n[[You look away from the telescope, lest the rabbit discover you|Treehouse]].

<<set $AislingWakes += 1>>'I could wake up? But I don't know what to.' Aisling sounds worried. 'I don't know who I was. I haven't been to the dreams in so long...' \n\n[[Show her the locket|Locket]].\n[[Remember what the thunder said|Thunder spoke]].\n<<if $AislingWakes eq 3>>[[Tell her her name|Aisling Name]].<<endif>>\n

<<set $MillicentsFootsteps += 1>> <<set $DancedFlora = "yes">>Flora's dancing is like the onset of winter, sudden, inexorable, and inescapable. You are left chilled to the bone, somewhat out of breath, and with a strong desire to hibernate. \n\nStill, she takes your hand with a certain sweetness, and comments charmingly upon the perfection of the veins in your wrist, and the potential awkwardness of having to fish you out of a sudden fissure that violently erupts in the floor is averted by her quick reflexes. Between that, and the gentle collapse of the piano due to Miles' overenthusiastic approximation of Bach's Fugue, the dance comes to an end. \n\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the Ballroom]].\n[[Take the left door|The Cellar]].\n[[Take the right door|The Bathroom]].

<<set $VisitedStream = "yes">>A woman rises to float beneath the surface of the river- as though a thin sheen of glass separates her from the drowning world. Or perhaps, as you look closer, you wonder if she isn't just another piece of the river. \n\n'Wood needs water. Take this one with you. Me. Nysa - undine, or undying - language is so imprecise.' \n\nThe water-filled eyes look up at you from under the water. 'Well, a vessel of some kind? To Hallow Hill river must go, stop the wards from keeping water out.'\nYou find in your pocket, all unexpected, a little china teacup. Where did that come from? Perhaps you pinched it at tea with Aisling - but if not, then where? \n\nNysa looks up at you with her drowning eyes, expectant. \n\n[[Take the cup and fill it with river|Nysa In A Cup]].\n[[Refuse, and walk away from the water|Into the Woods]].

A few steps and a sudden shower bursts around you as the blue sky is split with rain. The rain is warm, and the air smells of cinders and damp grass. \n\nThe path turns and you find yourself standing on the other side of a trellis archway, almost overcome with honeysuckle woven into and around it. Through the honeysuckle, you can spy a long lawn interspersed with rose beds, and beyond that a dainty white table on which a picnic has been laid out. \n\nSkylarks call from beyond and a dear little robin hops across the grass.\n\n[[Go into the garden|Garden entrance]].\n[[Return to the pavilion|The Pavilion]].

<<set $StayingBehind += 1>>\n\nYou step within the dusty chamber and quickly shut the door behind the three of you. \n\n'I don't remember this room,' Flora says, shaking her head. Miles looks about him in wonder. 'I think I was here - a long time ago - when that lady passed through. She left something here - but I can't for the life of me remember what.' \n\nThe room is empty, but for a single chest, left on the floorboards, made of pale wood, with a red-copper lock. The lock, you note is opened. A bright scarlet 'M' is emblazoned on the chest. \n\n'It was like Orpheus, but not quite.' Miles says. 'Eurydice? I wonder why she ever left Hades,' Flora muses. \n\nThe chest creaks open - perhaps it was upset by the rattling of the casements in the storm. A single word - a name - lies coiled inside. It sees you, and you know it.\n\nMorpheus. \n\n[[You take a step back|End of the mystery]].

You slide open the elegant glass-paned door and enter into the greenhouse. Althouth the morning is young, the glass-house is already hot. Tropical vegetation - succulents, cacti, giant purple flowers, gargantuan lilies, and orchids - crowd out the light. \n\nA large cat is sleeping on a basket of rare lilies. Its black paws twitch as it dreams. \n\nImprobably, someone has carted in a basil-plant in a plain pot, abandoned in the far corner of the greenhouse. \n\nThere is certainly space, here, with some rearrangements, to hold a picnic. No-one could accuse it of being damp.\n\n[[Examine the cat|Greenhouse cat]].\n[[Inspect the improbable basil plant|Basil Plant]].\n[[Head back outside|Walled Gardens]].

'Oi!' A tall young man with an unfortunate beard, hair dark like jasper, stands framed by the rising sun. 'You're new!' It is equal parts accusation and declaration. \n\nAnother young man, in a quilted apron, laughs. 'Of course they're new, Julian! They must be another dreamer.'\n\nA tall young woman stood beside both shakes her head. 'Honestly, Dominic. That's rude. They might be a new part of the dream.' \n\nThe three of them are stood between you and the sea, their shadows long before them. They seem to be expecting an answer.\n\n[[Answer truthfully|Dreamer]].\n[[Answer falsely|Dream.]]

'Storm has been before. Lightning might strike twice. There was a connexion between the end of one dreamer and the arrival of a second. Look, here.' He points to a complicated diagram, which gently spins in the gathering wind. You nod. \n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>The water in your teacup, which you placed onto the table now piled with charts, spills petulantly. Astrolabe tsks, and wipes away water with a handkerchief he produces from inside his floppy hat.<<endif>>\n'So you see, the sycamore-scope functions as both a spy and a conductor! Storm won't be pleased if he strikes wrong, oh no. Blow right away then, give us all some peace!' The rabbit rubs his little paws with glee. 'Speaking of, do you fancy a brew? I have some marvellous leaves Aisling gave to me last time she visited - when was it, and more importantly, where was it - ' The rabbit bustles off into the voluminous depths of the treehouse cupboard, carved into the very walls.\n\nThe sycamore-scope stands unwatched but watchful before you.\n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack, who is currently leaning against the fireplace, axe hung up on the door, shrugs his shoulder in your direction. 'Seems like the man - ah, rabbit - has it all locked up here. Might as well be moving on towards the oak.'<<endif>>\n\n[[Move the sycamore-scope. Just a few inches would set the thing much lower, and storm would probably pass it by|Alter sycamore-scope]].\n[[Leave the sycamore-scope alone|Tea with Astrolabe]].\n[[Speak through the sycamore-scope. Perhaps storm will listen|Speak to Storm]].

'Oh!' She startles as she takes in your empty cup. 'Goodness! What a poor host I've been!' \n\nShe pours you another steaming cup of violet-shaded tea, and then another for herself for good measure. \n\nDo you have other questions?\n\n[[Yes. Where are you, to start with|Where Am I]]?\n[[Are you dreaming|Am I Dreaming]]?\n[[Who is Aisling|Who Are You]]?\n[[No. You think you are ready for whatever comes next|Now what]].

You leave Margaret to it, and turn your attention to the cave. \n\nBeautiful shells, worn by the sea, lay scattered about the ground. Strange lights shine on the cave-walls, crystals and rare stones you've never seen before.\n\nThere is a tally near the entrance, drawn in chalk, but slowly the sea must have washed most of the numbers away. Apparently at least 76 times has the wall been marked - the rest fades into indistinguishable chalk and then nothing. \n\n[[Add your own mark|Mark]].\n[[Return to the boat|Leaving te sea cave]].

<<set $MorpheusKeys += 1>>You rattle the draws. You take in the smells. You give the spit a whirl (No-one there, no-one there). Between you and Flora (Miles still choking into his silken handkerchief) you uncover two sets of keys (two? How odd.) One Flora proclaims to be the attic key. The other, a faintly tarnished pale-silver key, bears the initial M scratched into the metal. \n\nYou also uncover some jam tarts, of a deep crimson hue. They are exceedingly delicious.\n\n[[Take the left door|The gallery]].\n[[Take the right door|The drawing room]].

Through the door, the next room is as hot as all the ballrooms in all the manses in Hell. A spit turns inexorably by unseen hands, though the air is so thick with smoke there may well be someone crouched by the enormous hearth unseen. Great ranges stand forlorn, bolted to the walls, thick with sweat and grime. There is an inordinate amount of washing up, which makes you exceedingly glad you are but a guest here. You think. \n\nMiles wrinkles his nose. 'I've always felt something is only enjoyable if one does not see how it is made.' He lingers by the doors leading further into the House. \n\nFlora meanwhile takes considerable relish in wandering about the cavernous kitchen, picking up various unspeakable kitchen implements and recounting in great detail the various grisly family stories they featured in. The one about the stock pot and the kitchen boy you don't think you'll forget in a hurry. \n\nAfter coming to the end of her morbid litany, she gasps in realisation. 'Oh, of course! Father always hangs the keys to the attic in here. Somewhere.'\n\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the kitchen]].\n[[Take the left door further in|The gallery]].\n[[Take the right door|The drawing room]].

You struggle to keep up with Julian as he stomps off across the sand, muttering furiously. \n\nYou catch up with him at what must have been the hull of the wreck, tipped on its side, now rotten through, exposed to the sun and sky. Justin shakes his head. 'Poor captaining, that. No ship of mine would end up sidewards, I don't mind telling you.' He scowls. All of the ills of the world seem to be sitting heavy on his shoulders at the moment. \n\nA wind blows across the sand. 'Just my luck!' He bemoans to you, 'It's a good thing you came by, otherwise we'd never have gotten here. Dominic would have still been fussing over some silly frippery or other, oh no Julian we can't sail today, I haven't finished knitting the doilies, or however the wretched things are made. And if we had made it out to sea, Margaret would have sank us minutes off the shore, trying to show me she can sail almost as well as me!' He scoffs. 'No, it's a good thing you stopped by, old chap.' He peers into the wreck. 'Dashed hard to see anything. Tell you what, you go south, and I'll head north.' \n\nHe begins to clamber into the seaweed stinking shipwreck.\n[[Follow his lead and head south|Inside the wreck]].\n[[No, you've heard quite enough out of him. It's time to give him a piece of your mind|Tell Julian off]].

She beams even broader. The sun peeks out from behind a dark cloud to dazzle the dome with its brilliance. \n\n'Quite right! And the less said about sugar in tea, the better.' \n\nTogether you set the world to rights on the proper usages of tea. Eventually, the cups are drained, leaving a healthy brown residue behind. Aisling sits back in her seat with satisfaction. 'Sadly, it can't all be tea and cakes. Do try one, by the by, simply divine. I suppose you must have questions?'\n\n[[Yes. Where are you, to start with|Where Am I]]?\n[[Are you dreaming|Am I Dreaming]]?\n[[Who is Aisling|Who Are You]]?\n[[Yes. Is there more tea|More Tea]]?

You peer in to the lake. Something peers back.\n\nThe goldfish, large and fine-tailed, laughs at your astonishment as it rises up from the water to speak to you. \n\n'I suppose you're here about the picnic, big-dreamer. Well, I shall say the same to you as I said to the robin. If you can find a nice container to carry me in, I shall come. But otherwise, unless you want to come into the lake with me to hide from the rain, I shan't be coming along.'\n\nThe laughing fish does a few laps before surfacing again. 'Not that I want you to put yourself out, of course. I shouldn't wish to be a bother, and I get plenty of visitors. Really.' It repeats this several times, to ensure you get the message.\n\n[[Leave the fish be for the moment|Water Gardens]].\n<<if $HasWateringCan is "yes">>[[You could scoop the fish up into your watering can, if you like|Invited fish]].<<endif>>

The path is like walking down a narrow country lane beteen two hedges, old and wild that have grown to such an extent that their ornery branches have come together in a weary embrace. Sunlight peeks through the gnarled greenery casting dappled shade on the path before you. Behind, the pavilions fades into late afternoon shade. \n\nAhead, the path abandons all pretence at civility, becoming wild and overgrown with cowslip and roses that are, if not quite wild, then certainly of dubious politeness. \n\n[[Continue on into the wild green|The Forest Entrance]].\n[[Return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].

<<set $StormEmbraced += 1>><<set $CompanionNysa = "yes">>In the blink of an eye, the river is empty and your cup is full. Brackish water slops joyfully within the china teacup. \n\nA voice giggles from the cup, smaller and more gleeful than before. 'Oh yes, take water to Hallow Hill. Storm voice won't be silenced but shall speak with a voice of thunder!'\n\nSome of the river splashes out onto the damp earth in a northerly direction. Hallow Hill, it would seem, lies there.\n\n[[Take yourself and your cup to Hallow Hill|Hallow Hill]].

You take the keys Flora found in the conservatory and open the door. The lock is difficult, and poorly oiled, but after much wrangling, you have it. You wrench open the door as a blind old crone, hair a tangle of thistledown, eyes white like spilt milk, skates past you and down the stairs to stand in front of the next door, until Miles takes pity and opens that too. She rattles off back into the House.\n\n'Oh, I'd wondered where the cook had gotten to,' Miles says.\n'Did you?' Flora asks, absently. \n'We keep her down here usually. She likes it that way.' Miles says to you, by way of explanation.\n\n[[The way to the attic is clear|Attic corridor]].

The robin flies down from above to land upon the white table, where already droplets of rain are beginning to form. \n\n'Ah, you're ready then? I've been watching your progress from above. Very keenly indeed!' The robin bobs about the table, before tilting its head to look at you. 'Though, ah, there may have been one or two moments were I was distracted. But otherwise I could not have been a more scrupulous observer, rest assured.' \n\nThere is a gentle rumble of thunder from far away. The wind speaks more of winter than the onset of spring. \n\n'Are you sure you found everybody? And you're quite ready to make your decision? I shan't mind if you need a little more time...'\n\n[[You are ready to get on with the picnic|Where]].\n[[You think you need a little more time|rose garden]].

Inside the air is damp and ground slick with fallen water. The winds rage, shrieking through the cavern. The only light comes from strange luminescent fungi that scatter the ground, and the reflected light of great stalactites wedded to the ceiling. \n\nA stalagmite alone crouches on the ground. It unbends itself, becoming the form of a hunched old woman. She is singing.\n\n'Oh the shadows come to dance, to dance my love,\nfor twelvemonth and a day and when that day is done\nOh my love, they shall take me away.' \n\nHer eyes meet yours. They glow with some inner light- like a fire sighted at the end of an underground tunnel. 'Well. Storm comes and you come after. Come to make things right? Or sell us all to storm?'\n\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>She scowls when she spies the cup in your hand. 'Brought ditch-dretch with you, I see. Should have left her to drown. Wants to get drunk on Storm, flood the forest. Might take a thousand years, like the winds that scour my rock to sand, but time turns over. Tides you over.'\n\nIn your hands, the cup tremors indignantly. Water splashes about the ground, and runs down in the dark, disappearing into cracks in the walls. The cup appears empty.\n\nThe witch shakes her aged head. 'There will be a reckoning, it seems.'<<endif>>\n\n'There's a route through the caves. It'll bring you out near the Oak. Storm comes, you'll be there. But first a question.' She pauses for effect.\n\n'An old dream comes haunting in on dark wings. A nightmare, of a power borne of childhood - long nights years ago it grew, and in the years since, grown bolder. It is here, and it is with you. You wake, remembering. You feel different. How do you go on, with this nightmare remembered?'\n\nThe witch looks up at you, her eyes sparkle with calculation.\n\n[[Try to forget and move on - these things pass by|Nightmare passes by]].\n[[Embrace it. It came from you and for you - it is a piece of you, now|Nightmare embrace]].\n[[Remember it and learn from it. You can't just forget it, but nor should you simply accept it|Nightmare remember]].\n

'Oh don't mind me, dear,' The fairy's beautiful eyes spring open. 'I'm just holding the fort here.' She laughs. It is a pleasant laugh, like silver bells blowing in the breeze. 'No-one's been in the arbour in some time. People seem to prefer the hot or the cold.' She sighs, like the incoming tide. 'Usually it's just me and the dreamers who pass through. Like now.' She winks at you. \n\n[[Invite her to the picnic. It might lift her spirits|Invited fairy]].\n[[Bid her a good day. There is more to see elsewhere|The Arbour]].

Aisling sits at the table, sipping tea. She looks up at you. 'Of course, you simply must explore.' \n\nIn front of her are the two cups, horn and ivory. There is a freshly made pot of tea steaming on the table. \n\nThe four archways look out beyond onto four different seasons under a single sky.\n\nThe sun shines bright through the dome, its whiteness dazzling, and even the ivy leaves are gilded. Thunder rumbles from somewhere far away.\n\n[[Leave through the eastern arch, into the overcast garden|Up the Garden Path]].\n[[Take the sourthern arch, and a pleasant stroll down to a sunlit beach|Dune Path]].\n[[Perhaps the western arch, and the autumnal forest whispering in the wind|Forest Path]].\n[[Head through the northern arch, through the wintry hedges to the gloomy manor beyond|Hedge Maze]].\n[[It is time to leave. The hour grows late. You approach the table|The Choice]].

You come to a stop at the water's edge, having lost your shoes somewhere on the sands behind. Water and wet sand squelch between your bare toes, and your feet are encrusted with bits of shell and sea-weed. Margaret has gone paddling in the shallows, whilst Dominic crouches over a little pool further on. \n\n'Now, see here.' Julian says, standing in front of you, his face serious. 'We've found ourselves a treasure island, just off the coast. We know there must be treasure in it, because it's an island. Stands to reason if you're a pirate or a smuggler or some such, that's where you'd hide treasure. Or why else put an island there?'\n\nYou struggle to find fault with his logic. \n\nHe continues, 'Now, here's the rub. We've a boat, but it needs four people to man it, and there's only the three of us. With you, it'd be enough. So what d'you say? Shall you come on our adventure with us?'\n\n'Oh do!' Dominic cries, looking up from the water that had so entranced him. 'It'll be ever so much fun.'\n\n'Yes!'Margaret says, splashing her way up to the shore, 'Don't say you'll leave me with these bores.'\n\n[[Say you will stay|Yes to adventure]].\n[[Say you won't stay|refused the call]].

<<set $InvitedHeron = "yes">>The heron extends his wings to the fullness of their impressive span, and puffs out his chest. 'Quite right, little dreamer. Yes, a picnic sounds just the thing. Of course, I must be near water. I shan't go indoors. Understood?' He glares at you, daring you to contradict him, before flying off. \n\n[[You return to exploring the pleasure garden|Pleasure Gardens]].

'Oh yes,' Cecily looks up at the sky, their eyes shining with reflected silver, 'They blow through on occasion. This one is big. But also familiar - somehow.'\n\n[[You have other questions for Cecily|Cecily and sides]].\n[[You have finished your conversation with Cecily, and you head into the forest|Into the Woods]].

You pursue the rabbit on the wings of a storm, plunging down from the cold hillside into the undergrowth once more, where dark thickets scrape at you and thorns rise from hidden branches to menace you. Occasionally you stop to pick up one of the rabbit's dropped charts. It seems polite. \n\nEventually you come to a halt before a treehouse, perched atop a bare silver birch. A telescope made of sycamore and wound round with holly pokes out from the pointed roof. A rope ladder sways precariously, leading up into the canopy. \n\n'Bother and bodkins.' The rabbit says, blinking furiously, 'I'm quite out of breath. How ever am I to get up there?' The rabbit looks at you hopefully. \n\n[[Take the rabbit and climb into the treehouse|Treehouse]].

<<set $TheIntrepidExplorer = "yes">>Julian smirks. 'I told you it was a worthy name for a worthy ship.' He smacks the side of the ship and boards, heading immediately for the navigator's wheel. \n\n[[You board the Intrepid Explorer|Setting Sail]].

Oscar nods his approval. 'Maybe there's some honour amongst landlubbers.' As a token of his appreciation, you are offered some of the choicer rat bones. \n\nYou leave the island soon after, the sun fading behind you, waved off by the cat. Julian is in high dudgeon as the ship steers out onto the now dark sea, and you fear an uncomfortable voyage back. Luckily, however, Dominic apparently kept a second bottle of rose in reserve, and produces it to forestall the gathering storm.\n\nSoon you are swapping tales, and dreaming of new adventures to come. You are back on the coastline before you know it, as the sun sinks below the sky. The Pavilion is visible beyond the dunes. \n\n[[It is almost time to leave|Leaving Summer]].

Down to the gorge you go. The stair is steep, barely more than a few narrow ledges carved out of the rock, and you are buffetted all the way down by the wind, and the spray from the fall. \n\nEventually you find yourself facing the great grey tumble of the waterfall, which ends in a small pool whose calm surface belies great depths. <<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>Nysa begs you to refill her cup with water drawn from the waterfall. The water is fast and strong, and your hands are cupped with foam-flecked rage. The cup almost breaks under the force falling from above, but eventually you have filled the cup. Nysa seems reinvogorated.<<endif>>\n\nA cavemouth looms from the far side of the waterfall, on the other side of the spray. \n\nYou will have to pass through the curtain of fast-falling water to enter. Someone is singing inside.\n\n[[Enter the cave|Which Witch]].

<<set $SummerHelp +="1">>You sit down next to Dominic, on the oddly worn rock. Suprisingly comfortable, though you suspect the layers of sand help. \n\n'I try so hard. I think of the practicalities because I know the others won't.' Dominic sighs mournfully. 'And by goodness, if I don't and we've forgotten a saucepan to fry the sausages with, then they'll start to bickering. And that can last a positive age.'\n\nHe sighs again, and then looks over at you. 'It's been so nice having you along. You seem to balance everyone out. This has been such a wonderful adventure! Until now, but I'm sure it'll work out with you here.' He takes your hand. 'Oh, I do hope you'll be able to stay!' \n\nYou smile, and look down. It is a very odd rock you are sitting on. In fact, those look like boards. Dominic follows your gaze and gasps. You set to brushing away the sand - \n\nYou have been sitting on the lid of a thick, wooden chest.\n\n[[You call out to the others across the island|Found treasure]].

Aisling blinks. 'That's not - I'm sorry. Have you changed your mind?' She moves to clear the tea cups away. From around your shoulders, Cecily jumps onto the table. 'Don't you remember me? ' They sound aggrieved, laced with deep hurt. \n\nAisling shakes her head. 'I'm sorry? Should I?' She looks at you for help. \n\n[[Tell her what the Fairy told you|Fairy said]].\n[[Show her the locket|Locket]].\n[[Remember what the thunder said|Thunder spoke]].\n

Before much longer, with the sun now low in the sky hanging like a pirate's medallion over the shining sea, an island appears on the horizon. \n\nJulian, it seems, was wrong. Trees litter the isle, though it can't be more than a mile in circumference, most of it white sand and dune. He assures you, however, that this is it. \n\nYou gather around the main deck as Julian guides the ship towards the island which is growing larger by the second. Palm trees flutter in the breeze, and parakeets flap overhead. The air is warm, a balmy evening on the way. \n\nJulian steers the ship onto a long, flat beach. You have arrived. \n\n[[Adventure awaits. You disembark|The Island]].

What a strange dream! You rise from your couch, your mind thick with sleep. Odd images fall from your eyes like stars, gone by the time you have pulled open the curtains. The radio is still playing. \n\nYou feel incredibly well rested - the best sleep you've had in some time. A pity you can't remember what you were dreaming about.\n\nYou suppose that even dreams end.

You find yourself standing in a long, hushed corridor, looking down upon a winding stairwell. Dozens of portraits frown admonishingly from the walls. An air of carefully curated gloom pervades the long gallery.\n\n'Ah, here's uncle Septimus.' Flora says, holding up her candle. \n'We are eternally sorry.' Miles says. Flora repeats the refrain. \n\nA stern woman whose eyebrows resemble nothing so much as flying buttresses is revealed to be an 'Aunt Perpetua'. 'And she was,' Flora says mournfully. \n\nYou are introduced to Great Grandfather Bleakcliff, Great Aunt Chastity Homewreck, and curiously, a covered portrait referred to only as 'The Baron.' You note several of the portaits are illuminated by freshly lit candles burning beneath them. Many more bear nothing but scorch marks and wax at the bases of their frames. \n\nFlora and Miles seem disinclined to linger. \nA door to the left sits at the bottom of a small turn of stairs. From a further door to the right comes the sound of feet moving against floorboards. \n\n[[Search for clues|Clues in the Gallery]].\n[[Take the door to the left|The Cellar]].\n[[Take the door to the right|The Ballroom]].

<<set $WhatTheThunderSaid += 1>><<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>The Fox curls around your feet as they see what you're about. You think this might signify approval. Possibly.<<endif>>You press your lips to the glass, and sightless of Storm begin to speak. Or rather, whisper. Astrolabe is still there, after all.\n\nAfter a moment, there is an answer. SPEAK STORM LISTENS. The wind picks up and shakes the treehouse like a greedy child menacing the cakes at High Tea. OAK WE GO CHANGE COMES WILL NOT BE DENIED FOREVER. WOULD YOU BE NEXT? COME TO THE OAK AND THERE SPEAK AND THEN STORM SHALL ANSWER.\n\nThis deafening voice comes in bursts of thunder, punctuated by lightning. The treehouse continues to shake even after the voice is gone. The sky is darker. \n\n'Oh dear.' Astrolabe says, from where he has curled into a corner underneath one of the cosy armchairs. 'I hope this works!'\n\n[[You think you may have outstayed your welcome. Time to make an appropriate exit|Heart of the Wood]].

'Oh, yes. Of course! Do forgive me, I've become so terribly flustered. As I say, it's been such a very long time!' \n\nShe clatters about the tea things, before looking up to see that you have not moved. She brings a hand to her mouth - her expression one of extreme mortification. \n\n'How silly of me! My name! Yes, at once.' \n\nShe continues to fuss over the tea-set, producing a set of immaculately pressed doilies from within her voluminous sleeves. She looks up and smiles at you with an expression of puzzlement, before she suddenly gasps. 'Oh the name! What a silly I'm being!'\n\nShe is immediately distracted by a sudden gust of wind, which knocks over the empty cup and positively scatters the doilies. \n\n[[Wait. She'll get there|Wait]].\n[[Does she even know her name|Doesn't Know Name]]?\n\n\n\n

You and Julian go scouting along the rocks, balancing on jagged bits of stone and planks as you navigate the coastline. At one point, Julian has to stop and fish you out of a particularly tricksy tidal pool. \n\nFortunately for your wounded pride, you're able to gather a good haul. 'Can't guarantee there'll be wood on the isle. Can't remember seeing trees when we were last out there boating. Though I'm not one for the sciences, no boffin in me, so there might well be greenery sprouting at this time of year.' Armed with plentiful driftwood, seemingly from old shipwrecks and other flotsam floated in on stormy nights, you start to head back.\n\nOn the way back, Julian holds forth some more. 'I'm glad to have such a fine chappie as yourself on board. Not to disparage the others, but Mags is always trying to prove something or other. Inferiority complex, I think. She thinks I hold her being a girl against her! And Dominic's a love, but between you and I a bit of a wet nelly.' Julian eyes you from behind lowered lashes, seemingly gauging your response.\n\n[[Agree. You barely know these people, after all|Agree with Julian]].\n[[Disagree. You've only just met, but Julian is being an ass|Disagree Julian]].\n

The robin sets off to spread the word. The picnic is to go ahead in the Arbour. He is, you note, much faster than you were. \n\nYou misjudge the distance to the arbour and are soon soaked through when the heavens open above you. Thankfully, there is a towel waiting for you on arrival, hanging from the arms of the fairy statue. You retire into one of the hanging seats, and merrily rock backwards and forwards whilst the skies darken and expel rain all around. The picnic has been laid out on the round wooden table, divided between cheeses, hams, salads, condiments, and scotch eggs. A pitcher of lemonade sits at the centre. \n\n<<if $InvitedFish is "yes">>You pop the watering can on the chair next to you, and soon the laughing fish is drinking from sparkling water and making conversation from within the echoey chamber of its temporary home.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedLittleCat is "yes">>With a yawn, the little cat enters the picnic, curling herself up on the comfiest seat. You think she remains awake for the duration, but you're somewhat suspicious when the cheeseboard circulates.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedBigCat is "yes">>The little cat is soon accompanied by the larger cat, who saunters in, carrying a miniature umbrella. He sighs when he sees your somewhat drenched state. His discourse is elegant and his manners impeccable, though the wines don't circulate far from his place-setting.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedStarling is "yes">>With no sign of the heron, the starling swoops in, and nervously nibbles at the potato salad. After the introduction of the port, she becomes a much more elouquent conversationalist, and soon has the table laughing uproariously at her tales of adventure and narrow escapes.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedBasilPlant is "yes">>Someone positions the basil plant at a seat, and although you do not see him eat nor drink, he expresses gratitude for the amount of sunlight he is currently being exposed to, so you assume he is contented, particularly after the rain clears up half-way through.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedCaterpillar is "yes">>The caterpillar emerges somewhat sullenlly from the wall, disappointed at the lack of damp. He is on the verge of staging a walk-out, when the basil plant kindly offers the caterpillar one of his leaves. You try not to think of the implications of the caterpillar's lunch, but he is otherwise a perfectly charming guest, once his hunger has been tended to. <<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedHeron is "yes">>Eventually, the heron pokes his head in from the pond behind you. The starling seems somewhat discomforted, but the heron keeps a respectful distance, keeping his feet firmly within his pond. He does somewhat dominate the conversation, however, until he is occupied with an entire wheel of brie.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedLions is "yes">>The Lions appear last, after much scraping from the dark recesses of the boathouse. They are courteous and well-behaved, although they do somewhat dominate the pickled eggs.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\n<<if $InvitedFairy is "yes">>The Fairy watches over the whole affair, offering wisdom, insight, and a surprisingly sharp sense of humour oveer the proceedings. When the cards are produced, she is insistent that she be allowed to give you advice. After three hands of gin rummy, it is unanimously agreed that one player per turn should be allowed to receive advice by the Fairy on a strictly rotating basis.<<set $Guest +="1">><<endif>>\n\nAt last, the robin arrives, announcing that all who would come are here. He is very gracious towards your efforts, expressing astonishment that he had not thought of the arbour himself. \n\nEventually, the food and the skies are cleared up. Someone suggests a nap is on the horizon, and slowly but surely the picnic comes to an end. \n\n[[You help clear away the picnic things|Picnic End]].\n\n

The lions sigh and grumble, and bid you a good day. You feel a slight twinge of guilt as they watch you go on, refusing to leave whilst you are still watching.\n\n[[You return to exploring the walled garden|Walled Gardens]].

<<set $CecilyHallowHill = "yes">><<set $WhatTheThunderSaid += 1>>Cecily emerges from a hollow inside the fallen tree. Their tails curls around them. They look smug.\n\n'So, you've not made a decision.' They look about them, at the sky and the growing dark. Thunder rumbles ominously from the south. 'Well, that's past. Follow me. We can probably get to the hill quickest. Unless,' the fox gives you a long look,'You'd prefer to stay out in the rain?'\n\nWith that, they are off, long red tail streaming in the rain. \n\n[[Follow the orange tail to wherever you are being taken|Hallow Hill]].

It transpires Dominic has managed to sit on the promised treasure. \n\nAs soon as the neccesary insults have been traded, you waste no time in leveraging off the lid of the chest, old and sea-battered. \n\nInside, miraculously, are at least a hundred gold pieces.\n'My word,' says Julian. Margaret says something far less polite. \n'I suppose the four of us could just about carry this back to the boat,' Dominic says, as the low sun shines upon the gold, turning all luminescent and brilliant. \n\n'Not so fast.' A deep voice behind you.\n\n[[You turn around|Oscar the cat]].

<<set $HasWateringCan = "yes">>The watering can is full, and water sloshes about in the green plastic tub as you carry it along. Perhaps you might find a way to lighten its load. \n\n[[You keep wandering the walled garden|Walled Gardens]].

<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>As you make it up the path towards the barren hillside, away from the Woodman, Jack turns off from you, his axe raised. 'Gotta finish this. Hollyhocks here wants Storm in, he's primal see. Not doing my job as protector of these here woods if I don't. You understand?' He pats you on the back, and makes to head back down towards the Woodman. \n\n[[Call after him. You're about to meet Storm - you might still need Jack|Called Jack]].\n[[Let him go. He has his duty|Let Jack Go]].<<else>>\nYou walk up the last few metres of the steep slope, to find yourself upon the pale hillside, lit by the hanging moon and the occasional flash of lightning, both of which serve to illuminate the only landmark: a lightning-blasted oak-tree at the top of the hill.\n\n[[Walk towards the oak|Blasted Oak]].<<endif>>

Beyond the treehouse, the forest opens up into a long gulley, a great valley in the middle of the forest, running down to a ceaseless stream that plunges into a gorge. An open chasm that yawns, swallowing the river, which continues in a great fall that roars to almost drown out Storm. The moon hangs between the branches of an ash tree. \n\nA hill rises beyond, a single oak outlined in the sky - as though etched in stormcloud. \n\n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack shivers at your side. 'Best be hurrying, there's a Witch in the hollow yonder.' He places his axe in his belt. 'No metal in a witch's sight. If we head northwards, we'll be at the oak quicker than you can blink.' He pauses. 'Well, quicker 'n I can blink, any rate.'<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>In your hands, the cup shakes. Nysa bursts out from the china, head in your hands, quivering with excitement. 'Witch in the water! Dunked but not drowned, by the water lay her down - in the gorge where river thickest. Do let's go speak to witch-wisdom, before we go north.' The water in the cup suddenly goes still, as though having made her point, Nysa is content to leave the decision with you.<<endif>>\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>Cecily sniffs the air, extending their tongue to test the sky. 'In the gorge, a very old and very wicked woman waits. Ahead, is the Wood Man. Every bit as old and terrible.' Cecily looks up at you. 'Trials either way. Do as you will. I know I would.'<<endif>>\n\n[[There is a path climbing the rocky ascent north, towards the hill and the oak. Begin to climb|Wood Man]].\n[[There is a steep stair, clinging to the side of the gorge, wet with the spray of the fall. Descend into the gorge|Witch]].

She picks up the ivory cup, which gleams from polishing. \n\n'If you drink from this, you will leave the House, and forget all that dwell here. Myself included. You will not return. But the House will remain and all of the dreams within it for others to find. The House will go on dreaming, as it always has.' \n\nShe examines the white cup thoughtfully. 'Of all the dreamers that have wandered through the House, every one of them has drank from this cup at the end.' \n\nShe places the cup onto the table, and looks at you. 'I wonder if you will be different.'\n\n[[Ask about the cup of horn|Horn Cup]].\n[[You tell her you are ready to begin|The Pavilion]].

'Splendid to see I'm not just shouting into the sea, old chum. Like that king chappie who brought his ruddy royal deckchair onto the sands to give the tide a right seeing to.' \n\nJulian beams, and strides on along the coast. \n\n[[Together you head to the meeting point|Embarking]].

You take a pleasant circuit of the lake, encompassing the fountains, the grassy path, the marshy land on the far side, and the copse of wild trees at the far south which is interspersed with the beginnings of dunes. \n\nYou are just walking under the pleasant shade of a group of pine trees when you are accosted by an itinerant starling.\n\n'I do beg your pardon, I thought you were the heron,' the starling says, by way of explanation. It offers to fix your hat, but you think you'd make a better fist of it yourself. 'You have the long neck, and you're rather tall and beady, if I may say so. But I see now you are far too gracious and forgiving to be the heron.' The starling flutters around your head. 'I told the robin, I will not be attending the picnic if your friend the heron is coming. He has a dreadful temper and is full of prejudice!' The starling goes to flutter away indignantly. \n\n[[Call out an invite to the starling|Invite starling]].\n[[Let her fly off. There are other, less excitable guests|Water Gardens]].

<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>The Fox about your neck whispers their approval. 'Yes, we don't want bits of dream thinking they're anything more, hmm?'<<endif>> <<set $SummerLied = "yes">>The woman claps her hands excitedly, and takes your arm. \n\n'It's been so long since anyone new came to the summer dream! Dreamers are so dull, always lost and melancholy. Only ever passing through. But you - you can stay forever! My name's Margaret, by the way. What's yours?'\n\nMargaret leads you on a run towards the shore, where the blue of the water meets the white-yellow of the waiting land. The boys run after you, all of you laughing under the golden sun. \n\n[[You stop at the water's edge|Shoreline]].

You recall the forest, the long woods and the storm high over, and all the denizens there waiting. You drink deep of the tea.\n\n[[You wake|Wake Autumn]].

You dally with the lavender, count the forget-me-knots, and blow upon a dandelion, sending seeds scattering about the garden. Windchimes rattle in the breeze. \n\nYou count at least fifty varieties of herbs, excluding the plants you don't recognise. A fully stocked garden, abundantly so, but aside from the plants who don't seem inclined to talk to you, a seemingly empty one. \n\nYou move away from the cowslips, when you hear a scrape behind you. \n\nA voice like the flowing of water down a stone gutter speaks. 'Don't mind us, dear. We just don't like to move about when people can see us.'\nA lightly higher voice, bearing a similarly grinding speech pattern breaks in, 'Unnerves people so doesn't it, dear? It's alright though, you can turn around now.'\n\n[[Turn around. What's the worst that could happen|Lions]]?\n[[No. You did not sign up for this. There are other gardens you might be exploring instead. Run away|rose garden]].

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<<set $VisitedAutumn = "yes">>Storm screams. The sky is black. The oak is gone. The forest bends and moans beneath storm. Lightning strikes repeatedly in triumph. \n\nAfter a short while, it abates a little. But the skies remain dark, and storm continues. It seems it is here to stay, for a while at least.\n\n<<if $CompanionJack is "yes">>Jack shakes his head. 'Seems my work just got all the harder.' He swings his axe onto his shoulder, and head bowed, walks into the howling wood, without another word or backward glance to you.<<endif>>\n<<if $CompanionNysa is "yes">>The cup shatters gleefully, and water bursts forth. Nysa splashes about in delight, before coursing off to join the river below the hill where it has burst its banks, and flows fast and strong towards the forest. Your name is spoken in the water as it runs on.<<endif>>\n<<if $CecilyHallowHill is "yes">>The Fox shakes its head. 'A pity. I suppose it was always going to go one way or another.' They walk on, back towards the forest. 'Maybe next time. And there will be a next time.' With that, Cecily is gone, a red blur in the dark.<<endif>>\n\nStorm is in the wood. On the far side of the hill, you spy a path leading back to the Pavilion. You think it is time to leave this dream and the dark wood behind.\n\n[[Return to the Pavilion|The Pavilion]].\n

You recall the maze, the House, the snows, Flora and Miles and all your adventures in the dark and hidden places of the manor. You drink deep of the tea.\n\n[[You wake|Wake Winter]].

<<set $InvitedLittleCat = "yes">>'Oh.' Her mood alters, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. 'The picnic? I had quite forgotten about that. What must you think of me? No, I don't have any preference there.' She jumps up from the flattened flower bed. 'I shall be there, fear not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to freshen up.'\n\nThe little calico cat stalks off into the undergrowth. \n\n[[You continue to explore the garden|Pleasure Gardens]].

<<set $SummerHelp +="1">>Dominic looks at you confused. 'Really? But it would only be for me - are you sure?' \nYou are insistent. The marmite is tucked into the hamper. Together you lock up the hamper, and carry it back along the shore, the sun hanging orange in the sky, creating a path of gold shimmering out onto the sea. \n\n[[You make it back up the coastline|Embarking]].

The Fox licks their chops, its tongue the colour of summer wine, lodged within a face of autumn. 'I suppose I don't really have a side. I'm on my side, which is allies enough.' \n\n[[You have other questions for Cecily|Cecily and sides]].\n[[You have finished your conversation with Cecily, and you head into the forest|Into the Woods]].

<<set $StormAppeased += 1>>The witch nods, slowly. 'Perhaps that is the kindest way.' She shakes her head, revealing a line of burn-scars on her forehead. 'I tried to deny it, once, and have cowered here ever since. Perhaps submission is the easier path.' \n\nShe stands aside, a slow movement, as though the rock itself really had formed itself in the shape of an old witch, and now rose. A looming darkness waits in a cave beyond this one. \n\n[[Enter the cave|Leaving the witch]].

<<set $CecilyHallowHill = "yes">><<set $WhatTheThunderSaid += 1>>Cecily emerges from a hole behind the hut. Their tails curls around them. They look smug.\n\n'So, you've not made a decision.' They look about them, at the sky and the growing dark. Thunder rumbles ominously from the south. 'Well, that's past. Follow me. We can probably get to the hill quickest. Unless,' the fox gives you a long look,'You'd prefer to stay out in the rain?'\n\nWith that, they are off, long red tail streaming in the rain. \n\n[[Follow the orange tail to wherever you are being taken|Hallow Hill]].

The arbour is large and airy. The seats are lined with cushions and swing in the gentle breeze. The table is hard wood, and roomy. There is a skylight above, curtains currently closed. If opened, it might let in a considerable amount of light and warmth. Behind the seats, the pond is clearly visible, so close you could reach out and dip your hand in the water if you were so inclined. You are and you do. \n\nThere is a large statue of a fairy maiden holding up the arched ceiling. \n\n[[Open the curtains of the skylight. Let some light in|Opened skylight]].\n[[Examine the statue|Fairy Statue]].\n[[Go elsewhere|Pleasure Gardens]].

The door is locked. There are three keyholes in the pale-silver-white wood. How many silver birches perished for this you wonder? \n\n<<if $MorpheusKeys eq 3>>[[You insert the keys you found about the house into the lock|Morpheus]].<<endif>>\n[[Turn to the other door|The Attic]].