Golden beams streamed through the lilac zubzub leaves. Berry sweet, a fragrant breeze weaved along the sun-warmed valley tickling the nostrils of the travellers. They looked all around in wonder. Marta raised a hand signalling her troop to stop as a jabawocki crowed in the distance. It’s not like me to get lost, Marta thought. Something was very wrong yet weirdly familiar.

“Mom, where in the hell are we?” Drew asked.

“Drew, language,” Marta scolded.

“Mrs. T, I have to go to bathroom.” Taylor said.

“Mrs. T, are we lost?” Dontrell asked.

“Are we going to die, Mrs. T.?” Deena asked.

“Yes, I mean, no. I mean, everyone calm down,” Marta said looking around.

Wishing her son liked art more than snakes, Marta consulted the Junior Explorers’ map again. She traced their trail with a fingernail as her kid sighed loudly. Confused, Marta looked for landmarks. This has to be the worst birthday in recorded history, she thought. I should be drinking mimosas with cucumber slices on my eyes instead of playing Robinson Caruso with a quartet of eight year olds.

“Mom, for freak’s sake the map is upside down!”

“Shut it, so help me if I hear one more word from you!” Marta snapped, flipping the map around.

Taylor clutched his crotch and started a little dance.

“Drew be useful and take Taylor behind that amari—the yellow bush thing—to go to bathroom,” Marta said.

With suspiscious eyes, Taylor and Drew looked from the lemon amari bushes to the zubzub trees to the velvety perwinkle hills of Carrollis. Drew gave her an incredulous look. Marta glared. Drew led Taylor away.

“Word,” Drew muttered under his breath.

Marta laid the map across the ground. Today’s hike was supposed to be a simple orienteering exercise. Everything had been fine for the first hour or so but then all the compasses went haywire. Following a hunch, Marta had relied on her instinct to get them all back the campground parking lot. She checked her phone again. No bars.

“Mrs. T. are you sure about this not dying thing?” Deena asked. “Cause I saw this movie once where the people were dead and didn’t know it?”

“What! we’re dead? That’s not cool,” Dontrell said. “My mom is going to be furious.”

“Deena, honey, what kind of movies are you watching! We are not dead and Dontrell, I promise you nothing freaky supernatural is happening here. Remember there are no mistakes just unexpected adventures,” Marta said.

Her son Drew and his troop mate Taylor came out of the bright forest. Taylor was struggling to get his uniform shorts zipped. Marta helped him.

“Bra, Taylor pissed on an elf or something. The elf wanted to talk to you.”

“Don’t call me bra—“

Shocked, Marta looked up at the luminous winged tiny person flying over the kids’ heads. Marta screamed then covered her mouth remembering she didn’t want to freak out the troop. Bowing, the elf smiled.

“Marta, daughter of Suaria, and long lost queen of Carrollis. Welcome home your highness,” the creature said.

Soon more lights twinkled among the zubzub trees as more fastastic creatures peeked out from the vibrant leaves. Slowly Marta stood as a tingle of energy raced up the soles of her feet to the top of her head. She could feel the fear of her young charges and without thinking calmed their nerves with a wave of her hand. Her fingertips glowed blue white. The denizens of Carrollis gasped and approached. In a semi-circle the winged creatures knelt in reverence.

“Well I’ll be—“

“Mom, language.”

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