Scratching at the door takes on an entirely new dimension when the scratcher has eight free limbs with which to do it.  In a few minutes it had degenerated into frustrated clawing at the hinges and ineffective gnawing at the door handle.  It another few that, too, had changed, this time to goring at the hinge pins with a misaligned horn until, after becoming temporarily stuck in the crack between door and frame, the monster finally roared in frustration, turned it's quarters to the door, and kicked it with all the force it's bone studded leg had in it.  The metal caved inward with a terrible shriek and the bolt chain snapped, flinging the twisted door open with such force that it slammed itself against the wall and shuddered the entire structure.  Little veins of glass piping along the ceiling cracked and fell with a chorus of shattering chimes, followed by dripping trails of yellowed water that pattered around them like rain.

The twins exchanged a coconspirital glance that was far from being noticed, and crouched down along the base of the rotted cushion.  Before them, the monster turned himself around once more and nudged his head into the room, snuffing the air with it's flat nostrils and looking around suspiciously.  It's eyes came to rest of the empty air once filled by the decaying mass of the bed curtains, and for a moment the twins had begun to worry that it hadn't seen them there at all.  Fortunately, the beastie snorted and turned it's head in a continued search, scanning across the cushion.  It glared at the disrupted interior, looking none the more empty for all the straw strewn out across the floor, before squinting down at their bodies, held in sharp contrast against the stained fabric behind them.

There was a long moment where the twins were forced to wonder whether their plan was going to work after all.  The monster looked at them, looked at the abandoned rings of the bed curtain, and twisted into the best mimicry of disapproval that could be managed with the disrupted muscle structure of it's face.  What if it wasn't dumb enough to come inside?  It tucked it's legs up under it's belly, squatted on them, and just stared at the twins with utter contempt as it's claws fought with each other to settle themselves along it's back.  It wasn't going to fall for it!  The boys looked at each other helplessly for a moment.  The black twin stood up and waved an arm, the other held obviously behind his back.

"Hey!  Hey monster!  Over here!"  He bounced and tried to make himself the most obvious target he could, but it just continued to stare at them and didn't move an inch.  The smaller twin caught on and tried as well, but no amount of bellowing or taunting could make it move from it's place in the door; in fact, it seemed all the more adamant of it's position the more noise they made.  This entire ordeal would have been much easier if they had been confronted by a stupid monster that didn't know a trap when it saw one.  That left one option.

"We gotta make it mad."  the smaller twin proclaimed.

"Oh, what are we going to do, throw straw at it?" the other asked sarcastically.

"I don't know!  We have to think of something!"

They did.

"Hey, horse face!" the black twin shouted.  "Your mother wears combat boots!"

No effect.

"He's kinda uglier than a horse..." the smaller twin remarked.  "And you don't really know what his mother wears...."

"Maybe she DOES wear combat boots."

The white twin's turn.  "If I were as ugly as you, I'd paint a face on my butt and learn to walk backwards!"  he shouted.  The monster blinked and flicked his tail with a very mild annoyance.  The grate of the barbs scraping against the stone floor made them cringe.

"Your so ugly, I bet when you mother saw you she put the diaper on your HEAD." the black twin called.  At that the monster snorted and rested it's head on it's forepaws (though the image of repose was somewhat marred by the fact that two of his claws were still bickering for position along it's back.)

They frowned "I really don't think it--"

"--has a mother."

"This isn't working." they both said at once.  Then, also at once, a different idea came to them.  If insults didn't work, how about something a little more drastic?  They smirked at each other, then turned, bent over, and dropped their drawers.

"Hey monster!"

"Bite this!"

The monster blinked, then, with a snarl, snapped up to it's feet.  Snorting and growling, it lowered it's head and charged in after the twins.

The boys let a startled yelp and took off into the air, still holding onto the ends of the torn curtain and managing to pull their trousers up in mid flight (it is really quite a feat to do both at once, especially when a large and nasty monster is after your backside).  As they shot towards the dripping ceiling the slack came out of the rope they had made, snapping it up from under the straw and going taught some ten feet from the ground where it had been wrapped over support beams and furniture posts.  It formed, essentially, a net, which the monster immediately tangled it's legs in and went crashing to the ground in a terrible heap.

There was much snarling and whuffing but very little struggle as the twins quickly took up the spare cord from it's hiding place in the cushion and knotted it around every flailing limb the beastie had.  Last of all they flew in quick loops to bind the terrible jaws shut.  Bound, muzzled, and generally gotten the best of, the monster gave an impatient whine and put it's head on the ground.

"That wasn't as hard as we thought it would be."  the larger twin said.

"I guess he isn't that bright after all."

The monster gave them a pathetic expression and wagged it's tail.  While wagging the tail is cute on a puppy, it has an entirely different effect when it's long as a tree and covered with barbs.  The twins scurried out of it's range.

"What do we do with it now?"  they both asked each other at the same time.  They blinked and said "I don't know!  I asked you!"

For some reason the puppy-dog expression to monster was carrying became wider eyed and cuter, and if it weren't for the fact the head itself was taller than they were, they might have had the urge to scratch behind it's ears (if it had ears).  Tied up on it's belly, it looked hardly as terrifying as it had trying to eat them.

"Aww, you're just a big puppy, aren't you."  the white twin said, scratching it's chin.  The monster squinched shut it's eyes and wagged it's whole backside happily.  "Hey, it likes it!"

Seeing that his brother wasn't immediately snapped it half, the black twin tentatively moved forward and rubbed between bone ridges on the monster's forehead.  The monster started to purr.

"Aww, your just a big puppy........ aren't you." came a bitterly mocking voice from the doorway.

Leaned against the battered door frame, a large parcel wrapped up in bearskin at his feet, stood a rather pale, thin, nasty looking boy in ladies' button down boots. The monster, who had seemed so securely bound before, snapped the curtain rope as though it wasn't even there and skulked towards the boy with it's chin to the ground, eying him warily.  It was a justified caution.  The monster had no sooner come within range than the boy hit it on the nose as hard as he could, something cracking audibly in either the monster's snout of the boy's hand.  The monster recoiled in it's shoulders with more surprise than anything, and the boy turned his glare towards the twins.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he bellowed with a barely checked rage.  His entire frame went into the words.  "I didn't say you could come here!  I didn't say you could come in my HOME!  GET OUT!"

"Hey!" one twin shouted indignantly "We haven't hurt anything!  We only came down because--"

"--Captain Partlet told us to, and the door slammed shut behind us!"

"I DON'T CARE!"  He raged back.  "I told you to GET OUT!"

"WE DON'T KNOW HOW!" the shouted back together, matching the boy's volume.

Talking back was apparently the wrong thing to do.  The pale boy came at them with his fists raised and they both took flight before he could touch them, hovering at the ceiling below the broken glass webbing of pipes.  The boy below shot them a glare that should surely have melted them, and turned to the monster with a furious huff.

"Tzesrikan!"

The monster perked his neck to attention, eyes wide.

"I want them down HERE, NOW!"

There wasn't even time enough to put on a chase; the claws that flanked the monster's spine snapped up and out with no hesitation, snatching the twins around the waists.  They shouted, kicked, and squirmed, but the armor plated tendons of the claws were stronger than they were.  The monster dropped onto it's belly and matted down flat so it's claws could reach, and presented the twins to the boy.

Both were promptly slapped with more force than was really necessary, and the boy glared, fuming.

"I didn't say you could come in my home, and I didn't say you could touch Tzesrikan!" he snarled, jabbing a finger at their stinging faces.  "I didn't say you could do anything!"  They were both struck again, though this time with a closed fist, and much to their frustration they were unable to say anything in protestation or defense.  The muscles of their bodies seemed to have simply...stopped working....and struggle as they might in their own minds their limbs and throats refused to respond.  They could feel their pulses still beating in an unnaturally regulated rhythm, and their lungs filling evenly without their will or command behind them.  It was as if someone had clipped the strings of the puppets.

The boy turned his back on them and stormed to the door, snatching up the bundle of bearskin easily and tossing it over his back.  A familiar little arm in a familiar pajama sleeve fell out through the side and dangled limply against his ribs.

"I want all of them in boxes!" he was snapping, walking to the room of cabinets with exaggerated stride.  The monster followed obediently.  "Get RID of what's in there if there's no room!"

A whuffing grunt came to the assent, and the twins passed through the greatness of the monster's door, held aloft sixty feet from the ground.  The metal groaned shut behind them.
 

All about the borders of Small Monday Island pairs of enormous, glistening eyes stared out from flat faces.  All the children could see where the eerie gold and red refractions as innumerable feathered heads of all sizes swiveled on invisible bones to watch.  Nibs gestured for the group to stop a small distance from the island.  The shore they approached had become lined with a wall of staring eyes, in heads that gave no movement and no sound, but did not drift their gaze.  Curly, who had been trusted with the torch for this leg of the adventure, pushed it forward towards the island, the glow barely illuminating at this distance the jumpy outlines and shadows of round, winged bodies.  They were owls.  The avians were perched on every stone and twig on this shore of the island, and more drifting in warily from the others.  There were thick white snow owls, mysteriously masked barn owls, massive speckled horned owls, and a dozen other sorts in smaller sizes that seemed to be nothing but eyes on stunted legs.

"Talk to them!" Mab hissed, tugging the feathers on Captain Partlet's (now relatively clean) back.  He looked quite fuddled for a moment before puffing his feathers and putting on his most captainly appearance.

"Ahoy there!" he shouted over the water.  The owls gave no reaction.  "I'm Captain Partlet of the Flying Brigade, and I am here with her Royal Majesty Queen Mab.  We are in Neverland on official business from Lord Oberon and Queen Titania, and we need access to the palace!  So please be so kind as to move apart and let us through."

The owls were apparently not impressed.  After a moment without response, a high voice shouted with much authority  "Captain Partlet of the Flying Brigade and Her Royal Majesty Queen Mab, please approach the shore SLOWLY.  The girl may accompany you!  The boys of the party, please remove yourselves by no less than fifteen meters from the island!"

"We're here with the Queen, too!" Curly answered indignantly, crossing his arms. "We're just here to see the storyteller!"

"Boys..of...the party..." the voice repeated more slowly.  "Please remove yourselves by no less than fifteen meters from the island!"

"It's all right." Wendy assured quickly, smiling to the boys as she collected Captain Partlet and the Queen from Toodles.  "We'll only be a little while."

Nibs tried to protest, but Wendy tapped his chin to close his mouth.  "I'm sure it's just a precaution." she said quickly.  "It doesn't mean anything."

"Be careful, Mother Wendy." Toodles called after her as she drifted from the torch light.  The water below Wendy's feet reflected back unnerving hieroglyphs from Mab's careful green glow.  The owls shifted back to leave a half circle of shore uncovered, onto which Wendy obligingly alighted, and was joined in only moments later by something that looked like a swollen sparrow.  She set the Captain down on the sand, and he swaggered towards the little bird with the same air as he would approach a house finch of the Brigade.

"Who's in charge here?" he asked condescendingly.  "I won't let the Queen be passed off to some underrate lackey!"

"I'm in charge." the flammulated owl said rather icily.  Partlet's crest fell back along his head.  "My name is GENERAL Tory of the His Royal Majesty's Night Watch, head of the Moonlight Militia, and second advisor to the council.  I've been given strict orders not to let any human boys into Small Monday Island until the crisis is resolved, CAPTAIN."

Partlet turned bright red across the cere and bowed to the general.  "I'm sorry, General!  I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"Of course you didn't." the general said flatly.

The Queen would not stand for the Captain of her Flying Brigade to be cowled, and she landed on the ground between the two, arms crossed over her chest haughtily.  "Well General, if you would be so kind as to tell us WHY no human boys are allowed on Small Monday Island?"

This time it was the General's turn to bow, something he did with much more grace than Partlet had, likely due to the fact he stood in relative proportion to his object.  "Your Highness." he said, touching his ear tufts to the ground.  "The Council of Advisors has warned us of a threat to the fairy population, and we are reacting to that threat as best we know how.  Until the threat is eliminated, no human boys are allowed access to Small Monday Island."

"What is the threat?"

The general winced.  "I can't tell you that."

"Excuse me." Wendy interrupted, feeling ever so much like a stone or a tree as she was too large to be incorporated into these going ons.  She gave a quick curtsy and got down on her knees in the sand to have a better angle "General, does this threat have anything to do with a pale boy, about my height?  Named Murhedd?"

His lack of reaction seemed suspicious.  "I'm sorry, miss, I can't tell you that."

"General, do you even KNOW what the threat is?!" Mab snapped at him.  General Tory flattened down his feathers.

"It's Neverland business, Your Majesty."  he said.

"He doesn't know anything." Mab concluded, and apparently correctly, for the tiny owl fluffed itself up again to a size that wasn't even imposing to someone so small as Mab and said nothing.

Captain Partlet perked a bit.  "Does anyone know what the threat is?" he called to the assembled watch.  "Come now, speak up!  Do any of you know what you're guarding against!"

A hundred heads pivoted to look at one another, but no one spoke.  Eventually they all turned to stare blankly at the captain.

"Excuse me, General Tory, but we can't wait for this." Wendy said, sounding politely impatient.  "My little bother Michael is in trouble, and so is Peter and the Twins.  We HAVE to find out what's going on.  Now will your watch please let us through?"

The general puffed his cheeks "I'm sorry, miss, but I can't do that.  The council made it's orders very clear; no human boys."

Wendy made a frustrated little noise "Well will you let US through?  The Queen, the Captain, and myself?  The Queen and the Captain aren't human, and I'm not a boy, so the council didn't say we couldn't come in!"

"Her Highness may go in, certainly.  She's always welcome on Small Monday Island."  he looked critically at Captain Partlet "Though I really think the captain would be better suited to stay here and see how REAL soldiers do their work, and not the silly sparrows and pigeons of the Flying Brigade."

Partlet puffed and stared with stupefied indignation, unable to get out one good definite comeback to the General's obvious disregard.

"I'm quite fond of my brigade, thank you!" Queen Mab snapped angrily.  "And you have no right to insult my brigade, any more than t insult my captain!  Now if you're quite done making a complete ass of yourself in front of your precious Watch, kindly tell your owls to get themselves off their feathered butts and let us through!"

Now it was the general's turn to look flustered, and Captain Partlet smirked with the unspoken but well heard comment of "So there!"  General Tory gave a puff and gestured to his Night Watch with a wing and a shake of the tail.  The owls fluttered and waddled into two rows, leaving a neat, simple path into the interior of Small Monday Island.  Captain Partlet waddled down it's length with an unbearably smug look on his face.  The general glared at him.  Mab glared back.

Wendy turned from the island and put her hands around her mouth.  "We have to go in alone!" she shouted out to the boys.  "Wait here!  I'll be right back!"

The boys called back an acknowledgment and she waved to them smartly before turning to the path, and walking into the darkness of Small Monday Island.

General Tory sat on the sand for a moment puffed like a bowl of cream.  He was rather painfully aware that a hundred bright eyes were staring at him from their places in the line, and after a moment, he shouted with a blushed red cere "What are you all looking at!  Get back to your posts, hop to!"

The owls scattered, hiding snickers behind their wings.
 

It had never occurred to Wendy before that a place like Small Monday Island could be shut into so clean a fortress.  Every time she had visited it, the island had been open and bright, and inviting in appearance if not in manner.  Now it seemed far too militaristic for her tastes.  All the homes were blocked with maple bark shutters against the dark and wet, and the only fairy lights present were the armored glow of sentinel guards scattered here and there along the paths.  Even Partlet seemed rather unnerved by the quiet of it all.  She never actually saw him flinch, though, until a helmed guard riding a bridled badger passed by them within a few inches of the bird.  She supposed it was a wise thing not to like badgers at his size.

The palace was seated in what was generally decided to be the center of the island, though it was actually a great deal to the right of the center, but the fairies liked to pretend it was.  It was a marvelous thing made of twigs and leaves and branches all tapped with the midas touch, with pretty little pebbles and some genuinely mystifying objects set into the arch work.  There was a high tower overlooking the courtyard that had a gentleman's pocket watch set in the top (though it had long ago run down, which was fine with everyone, for the fairies really didn't need to know what time it was, anyway).  Wendy was, of course, far to large for any of it.  She never felt so much the giant as on Small Monday Island.

They'd only gotten within a few yards of the palace grounds when two very large and nasty looking badgers sat down in their paths.  They had beech bark armor held onto their flanks and foreheads with twine, and a fairy guard in similar trapping sitting on their posteriors, looking rather sore from riding a badger.

Mab's temper had been worn through quite nearly by General Tory and his Night Watch, and the badger guards had barely raised their spears and opened their mouths to ask their business when she flitted up into their faces with her hands on her hips, glow turning a most dangerous red.

"Look, you little rats, I'm QUEEN MAB of the western world's fairies and I want access to my sister's palace RIGHT NOW before I have you, the Night Watch, and your silly badgers hauled off to Kensignton to stand trial for obstructing royal duty!" she snapped.

The badgers seemed far more terrified of the prospect than their riders did, and immediately stuck their tails between their legs and scuttled away from the irate fairy, despite their rider's protestations.

"Smart badgers." Captain Partlet muttered.

Queen Mab straightened up, her glow turned to a more docile silver, and she smoothed her hair back with a palm.  "Shall we then?" she asked, gesturing to the gate.

Wendy slipped around the free standing gate and knelt in front of the palace, knocking upon the tiny door with a single knuckle.  A few second passed before it cracked open just an inch, and the tiniest little fairy she had ever seen, in the tiniest little maids apron, peeped outside at her, eyes going wide.

"Excuse me, I know it's very late, but we need to see the story teller right away.  It's an emergency."

The little fairy stared at her, stared at the horizon (Which was gradually turning to pink), and turned up her nose at the trio.

"No visitors this morning!  The Storyteller isn't feeling well!"

And shut the door in Wendy's face.