Here's a snippet from my nanovel from a couple days ago:

The Great Mollusk Quarrel

Once upon a time, the King of the Sky Snails had a quarrel with the King of the Sea Slugs. A naughty thing for them to have done, and not of much use, either, considering that they had to make an effort to even run into each other in the first place. But because they were upset at each other, they did so frequently (even though by this point, they didn't even remember what they had quarreled about; it was probably something rather dull, anyway, so no matter). And then they were even naughtier and stirred up their peoples (or mollusks) against each other, so that, to the astonishment of everyone else in the world, the vast majority of the sky snails and sea slugs took to spending the vast majority of their time at the border between the sky and the sea, barking and chirping and mooing and otherwise making strange noises at each other angrily. It was an extremely strange sight.

It was rather more convenient for some folks than you might think, and not just the sorts of folks that ate mollusks. For instance, if a light-footed chipmunk wished to visit a relation who lived on the other side of the sea, he simply looked for a place that had a sufficient number of sky snails lined up and, leaping lightly from shell to shell, made his way across the ocean. No need to wait for a ship that was heading in the right direction. (Not that a ship would be able to get through with traffic like that, in the first place.) And, when Mouse came to this particular world on a field trip while this quarrel was going on (when she was eight years old) and promptly got lost, one of the sky snails that was less upset than most of them were was able to give her a ride back to the school bus.

On the other hand, some of the sea-dwellers were *not* pleased at all about the quarrel. They rather felt that if they *must* quarrel, they ought to do it where they wouldn't be in anyone else's way. Some of the more irritable whales took to blowing any slugs and snails out of their way when they came to the surface. That was always a strange sight. One one occasion, when an entire clan of whales came to the surface together, clearing mollusks as they came, the fairies in the clouds rather thought it looked like a strangely-colored stew boiling.

There were many others who were sad about the absence of the usually-cheerful sky snails. Since they were mostly in the air just above the sea, they were not leaving their sunset-colored snail trails all over the sky like they usually did. By this time the beautifully slimily glowing trails had nearly all either faded away or been eaten by the Trail-eating Ptarmigans. Many missed the friendly chatter of the sky snails between themselves when they ran into a friend or neighbor, or the helpfulness of the animals in helping one reach things that were on the top shelf and out of reach to oneself. (The latter situation also had the advantage of leaving cheerfully-colored slime trails in the house until one's mother made one clean them up.)

So it was soon determined by many of the land-dwellers that, despite the convenience of sea travel that the mollusk quarrel afforded, Something Must be Done. The naughtiness of the King of the Sky Snails and the King of the Sea Slugs in quarreling with each other and stirring up their respective peoples against each other was absolutely shameful, everybody agreed, as was the animal-noise contest that their two peoples were currently engaged in.

To bring about the end of the Great Mollusk Quarrel, the land-dwellers realized it would be necessary to work closely with some sea-dwellers. They sent some penguins to talk to the sea cucumbers, as it was felt that they would be most reliable in a crisis, and the sea cucumber clan agreed to do their part.

Perhaps it would seem to the casual reader that a sea cucumber would be about the least helpful creature in this situation, but that casual reader would be quite mistaken. Sea cucumbers are widely known underwater for their intelligence and acrobatic dexterity whenever no scientists are around to observe them. (The fact that they act quite differently from their usual habits while being observed by scientists is proof of their great intelligence, if indeed any proof is needed.) So it was with brilliant foresight that the sea cucumbers were chosen as the allies of the land-dwellers.

On the appointed day, at the appointed hour, two small but powerful armies were gathered close to (but out of sight of) the site of the Great Mollusk Quarrel; one army on land and one in the sea. The sea cucumbers had done their work well and had recruited suitably trust-worthy specimens of all the necessary creatures, and a couple dozen other creatures were now joined with the sea cucumber clan. Breathlessly, everyone waited for the signal. A baby whale rose slowly to the surface and spouted water as high as it could. It was time.

At the same time, the land army swiftly and softly bounded from snail shell to snail shell towards the King of the Sky Snails, and the sea army raced towards the King of the Sea Slugs. The two monarchs were in the middle of their respective armies and were face to face making sheep noises at each other. Acting quickly, and in unison that was beautiful to see, a baboon captured the King of the Sky Snails and an octopus captured the King of the Sea Slugs. Both made their ways, surrounded by their respective armies, to the rendezvous spot in a secluded bay.

The two crowds of mollusks looked blankly at each other for several moments. It had all happened so suddenly, and they were none of them known for quick decision-making in any situation more serious than avoiding being accidentally trodden upon.

Finally one of the more intelligent Sky Snails said to the Sea Slug he was facing, "I suppose we ought to follow them and save our kings, oughtn't we?" to which the Sea Slug replied, "Yes, that might be a good idea."

Quite forgetting their quarrel (just as thoroughly as had Tweedledum and Tweedledee on an equally memorable occasion), the snails and slugs proceeded in a body, in the direction that the Sea Army and Land Army had taken.

By the time they had reached the rendezvous point, they discovered their beloved monarchs already placed into time-out. The wisest of the Sea Cucumbers came to the surface and lectured the snails and slugs on Not Quarreling, and Not Letting Their Private Feelings Lead Them to Ignore Others' Rights. They all bowed their heads in shame and promised to be good. They joined their leaders in time-out (although they didn't have to stay there *quite* as long as the King of the Sky Snails and the King of the Sea Slugs since the two kings were more to blame than their subjects) and made up with each other at once. Only one Random Animal Noise was heard during the entire time-out, and that was quite accidental, one of the younger Sky Snails having slipped and inadvertently uttered a quail call while attempting to regain its balance.

The next day, the whales were absolutely delighted that there was not a single mollusk in the way when they came to the surface.

And the land inhabitants were cheered by the familiar sight of sky snails wending their slow way across the sky, leaving their beautiful slimy trails behind them, and chattering with each other and with all the birds and other creatures as well as they went about their business.

And a light-footed chipmunk, who had planned to return home from his visit to his cousin across the sea that day, assuming that the Quarrel would still be going on and planning on stepping-stoning across the sea as before, was disappointed to have to take a ship. Ships were not exciting enough to suit his fancy, I'm afraid, but he got over the disappointment in the end.

*applauds* Wonderful job, Islie! I adore it! 😀 When/if I get married and have kids, I am going to read your story to them. It was a beautiful story!

Thanks Arna : ) *blushes*

One of Thoro's army, called Thorenders, rode up beside them. Pistachio didn't have to look at her fully but knew who it was imediatly. Without turning he said, "Hello, Benisse." Horatio nodded hello, he had stopped laughing. One does not simply laugh in front of Benisse. The woman took her helmet off and her blonde hair fell to her waist. She looked at Pistachio and smiled slightly.
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I know that's short. Like only one paragraph. *looks for another longer one*

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Edward, he was completely unexperienced around Benisse. He looked over at her. "Hello." She just stared at him. "Who are you?" She looked away and didn't answer. "I'm Edward." he added, smiling slightly.

Benisse turned her head and sneered at him. "Congratualtions." Then she turned her horse and cantered up by Thoro. No one would bother her there, no one dared talk around Thoro unless called on. Unless they are stupid, that's always an exception to some people.

"What a grouch." said Edward, staring after her.

Pistachio stabbed him in the stomach with his elbow.

(this has nothing to do with Benisse and Sir Edward I just stole their names)

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Pistachio looked at Horatio who was a year older than him and had ridden this way before. "What are the Protecters?" he asked with an almost disinterested look. When people talked about protectors they normally meant body gaurds. And a body gaurd was something Pistachio though he culd do without.

The boy was about to answer when Benisse rode up behind him. "The great birds!" she exlaimed with a rare laugh. "Any young one like you would be very amazed to see them!" She put her silver helmet back on and looked at them seriously without a trace of the laugh she had held a few moments ago. Then she trotted ahead.

Horatio and Edward looked after Benisse. " Where on the earth does she come from?!" asked Horatio. "She's such a sneak. She just came out of nowhere from behind us like a ghost! It's like she came out of the air!" Edward agreed with him with a nod.

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Halfway across the city, some people were having an archery competition. Somewhere else someone was racing horses and then someone was herding sheep with big dogs. People were mostly gathered around the well getting water for their animals and themselves.
Pistachio smiled. It was so busy down their, yet up here on the roof, no one was there to bother them, or trample them underfoot. They were the only ones up here. But with another look Pistachio and Edward stopped what they had been doing. Over in the corner on the room was another figure. They were not alone. Pistachio and Edward stared at the person with a bit of surprise, but Horatio stared at the figure and aslow smile spread across his face.
The figure turned around, hearing them all of a sudden go quiet. She pulled her hood back with a motion of her hand. She looked up at them, first Pistachio, Edward. Her eyes landed on Horatio. "H-Horatio!" she cried. She ran into his arms.
Pistachio and Edward stood their awkwardly as Horatio hugged the girl and the girl hugged Horatio. Horatio saw Edward and Pistachio trying to decide whether or not they should leave. "Wait," said Horatio. "This is my sister."

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That's all folks!

Thanks for sharing girls. Lovely story Islie - very Lewis Carol/Frank L Baum. 🙂

You have me intrigued, Gypsy. Who is this Benisse? I thought it was going to be her again on the roof, so the sister bit threw me.

At the moment, I'm trying to come up with a rhyme for my next clue (I've left it blank for now). With the other clues, I made up the rhyme-riddle first and then figured out what it referred to. But this time I know where the next clue is going to be so it's a little trickier making up a cryptic clue for the spot.

My bad guys are still giving me trouble but I think I've figured out how to deal with them.

How are other people's stories going (the stories themselves rather than just the word counts)?

Gypsy has quite the plot line planned out! 🙂 (and Benisse is pronounced Ben-ay, rather than our Benisse's pronunciation 🙂 )

*scolds Ajjie's bad guys for her* you're very bad guys! Talk to Ajjie! I hope you'll be able to tame them, Aj', I've got a couple main characters not talking to me, and I understand how frustrating and difficult that can make things.

My plot is... going. Barely. I've been talking to Ariel (she did a four hour marathon with me last night 😛 ) and she's been helping me tame my plot. It wasn't wanting to be tamed, nasty thing, but Ariel worked through some parts with me, and piece by piece, scene by scene, my novel is coming together.

Here's a snippet of mine. Disclaimer that it may be a bit intense. I have no idea how intense it gets -- I'm only the author.

But having no idea what direction I needed to go didn’t bother me nearly as much as the journey itself bothered me. The wood I was standing in stretched for a two day’s journey in all directions, and was a place of great danger after dark. I’d been taught this since I was a wee girl, and it wasn’t just a legend – I knew this to be true.

I’d been told many stories about the woods being dangerous, about meat-eating creatures, and about villagers staying out after dark and never being found again. These were the stories that made little ones bury themselves underneath their blankets in night for fear that the creatures of the forest would eat them. Most of the children believed them without seeing proof.

To me, these stories were only fanciful stories told to us to keep us from wandering off during the night, like some of us young ones did in the daytime. But I remember one night, when I was only six or seven that these legends began frightfully real to me. I’m sure something like this happened sometimes even before this time, but this was the earliest memory of this I had.

It was in the summer time during the midsummer feast our village had every year. The first day of the week-long celebration had come to its close, and we had headed back to our homes (except my family, who were staying in our neighbor Baruch’s home). Some of the older boys were told to stay behind to clean up the remains of the savory meat that had been cooked that day, and to make sure no traces of the meat were left out. It was to be burned.

After an hour or so, the villagers were all in their homes and asleep for the night, except for the watchman, who went up to the watchtower to be sure we were safe through the night. I was very tired that night, since it’d been a very long day for us little ones. I had just begun to drift off to sleep on the sofa when a bell began to peal madly, consistently. Father leaped up and grabbed for the sword sitting by the fireplace, knocking over a bucket of fire pokers with a banging crash.

“Daddy, what are the bells for?” I asked my father innocently. He and Baruch rushed out the door of the cottage without a word. “Mummy,” I complained, “Daddy ignored me.” I looked over at Mother to pout some more to her. Just then, a piercing sound, higher and shriller than a scream, joined into the sound of the bells. Mother put her hands over her mouth, and rushed out of the room, leaving me with Baruch’s wife. “What’s wrong with Mummy?”

I was sitting up now, so Baruch’s wife, Abigail, came over and sat down beside me. “She’s frightened, Little One, but she’ll be ok.”

“Why Mum scared?” I asked, beginning to get frightened myself.

Abigail stroked my hair, bit her lip, and forced herself smiled down at me. “Nothing’s wrong, just lie still. I’ll go make sure she’s alright.” She barred the front door, left the room and followed Mother, leaving me by myself.

The bells and shrieks continued to pierce the air. Suddenly, another door burst open and Baruch’s children came rushing in with horrified looks on their faces. The oldest one, who was nine, tried to look brave, but his lips were quivering. “It’s the monsters!” cried the youngest one, who was six, like me.

“Nuh-uh,” I said, “There aren’t any monsters.”

“Are so!” insisted the eight-year old. “We know they’re real! Daddy told us stories about them!” More of the noises pierced the air, and she rushed to hide in the other room with her mother.

“So did my Daddy, and I know they’re just stories. Stop being a baby,” I insisted, repeating what I’d heard some of my friend’s parents telling their older children when they complained.

“Oh yeah?” said the oldest, glaring at me, and half hiding behind the couch.

“Yeah!” I insisted.

How would you know?” He turned his nose up in the air a bit and looked down at me.

“I’ll prove it!” I stalked over to the door, and began to fuss with the big bar across the door.

“What are you doing?” gasped the oldest.

“I’m going to go prove that they aren’t monsters.” I tried lifting it straight off the door, but found it to be too heavy.

“Don’t go outside! They’ll eat you!” cried the little one, bursting into tears.

“They can’t eat me if they aren’t real.” I tried a different angle and tried to push the bar sideways away from the door.

“But even if they aren’t real, something’s out there that’s nasty!” said the oldest.

“Well, Daddy will protect me from whatever is out there.” I managed to get the bar to slide off the one side, and it tumbled to the carpet, making very little sound.

The older boy began to protest, but I opened the door and stepped outside, quickly shutting it behind me. As I ran off towards the noises coming from the other side of the village, I heard him yell frantically, “Mother!”

I'm with Tenny. My plot is barely alive. It's dying. I'm limping along trying to write something each day. I'm thinking that I need to start a National Script Writing Month because I've been spending all of my free time working on writing a script for a short film that my sister and I hope to film soon.

*applauds* More Tenny! What's going to happen? What's out there?

My story's coming along. (Slight advantage of having been working on it for so long). As I mentioned in the word count thread, I've skipped a section and jumped a head. This is 'cause I was feeling inspired about one of the final scenes, which includes introducing the "version" of Aslan in my world. These scenes were a lot trickier to write than I imagined and I take my hat off to Lewis for the way he wrote Aslan. It's a little terrifying writing a character that represents Christ in some way. It feels sort of sacrilegious to put words in his mouth, and is hard to know if you've got them right. Since I've got him talking to Susan about the things that happened to her (her loss of faith and the deaths of her family members, it's impossible to not get into theological or even doctrinal stuff. This story is going to need some serious disclaimers :p

Also, a little snag I hit that I'd appreciate your guys opinion on. (Warning that this is a little morbid). Did Eustace and Jill die before or after they arrived in Narnia? I was trying to have "Aslan" tell Susan that he took them to Narnia, but this didn't "save" them from dying, so how exactly did it work? Not sure if that makes sense.

Oooh, toughie. Hmmm, I wonder if they died after? The train was going to wreck, Aslan took Jill and Eustace to Narnia, they had their adventure and then when they went through the Stable Door, they died? Because after that they meet up with the other members of the Seven who have died. They all seem to get there at the same time. It's a very strange idea to think about. Quite puzzling.

Yeah, that's sort of what I thought. I think it's what I always thought. But if that's the case, what was their "cause of death?" Or was it just like the other Narnians who were alive when Narnia ended. But then what happened in our world? Were their bodies found?

Anyway, while I muse over that, here's a snippet. I should warn you that it is a spoiler of sorts, though the intervening stuff I haven't written yet won't be very exciting. And aren't snippets spoilers by definition? Well don't read this if you don't want to.

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“I wish Susan were awake to see this moment,” mused Vixel. It really is a beautiful seed.

“We must decide very carefully where we are to plant it,” Scaltard pointed out.

Awed silence descended over the group as they gazed at the treasure they had found. After so many years, after so much trouble; they had it at last.

A moan came from the direction of where Susan lay on her soft bed. David and Hedegar rushed over to see if she was waking up, followed by the others, all worried.

There was no change.

“She’s getting worse,” complained David, wondering again whether he shouldn’t risk a trip back to our world. If only he knew the cause of her illness and whether there’d be any cure at home.

“You do realise,” began Hedegar somewhat uncertainly, “That the seed would probably heal her.”

“What!?” asked David.

“No, Hedegar…surely you wouldn’t!...” exclaimed Scaltard at the same time.

Hedegar hung his head, regretting he’d brought it up, but knowing it would be wrong not to let the group decide.

“Why didn’t you mention this sooner? What are we waiting for?” David continued, agitated.

“David,” explained Vixel. “If we use the seed on Susan, that’s it. It’s the last of the breaknut seeds, our only chance at bringing them back and reviving this land. We’ve waited many generations for this. I care about Susan and don’t want her to die, but think about what it would mean…”

“I don’t care,” rebuffed David, getting annoyed. “Isn’t Susan more important than some hypothetical revival of your land? She’s here and now! If it wasn’t for her you would never have begun the search. Maybe you’ll find another seed? But Susan’t life is at stake. We can’t let the chance to save her pass.”

“David, think about what you’re saying,” said Hedegar, trying to sooth him.

“I don’t need to think! I know exactly what is the right thing to do. You’re the ones who don’t seem to be thinking!” With that he stormed off.

The animals watched but did not follow him.

“This is a terrible dilemma,” said Ratel. I wish we didn’t have to make such a hard decision. How do we decide?”

“I think I know how our ancestors felt when they had to choose between the breaknuts began and saving their community from plague and drought” said Hedegar miserably.

The weaver, silently watching the exchange flitted off in the direction of where David sat, some way off, starring at the river.

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I need a first name for a character in my modern day story. The character is a middle-aged, police chief. His last name is Holster. His wife is named Tammi. His foster sons are named James and Brandon Lowry. My sister, Coramir, has suggested Tom, Kyle, and Gunny (which is a nickname of a state trooper that my dad works with.) Tenny suggested Frank. She said, "Frank Holster. That's awesome. Use it." 😆 Anyone else have any ideas?

@Arna: Peter Holster sounds awesome!

I like Frank. Frank Holster has a nice ring to it.

This section I'm posting was rather difficult to write, for obvious reasons. It includes the bit about Jill and Eustace I alluded to, and that part probably needs refining. It also gets a little theological/doctrinal, and I don't claim superior understanding on these things. So let me know if you disagree with anything or think stuff is too overtly preachy. I must say, after writing this, that I have even greater admiration for Lewis. All thoughts would be appreciated.
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The eagle now made his way over to where Susan lay sleeping. He placed both mighty wings gently over her face and closed his eyes. Opening them again, he removed his feathery wings and spoke.

“Susan.”

Susan opened her eyes slowly. She felt foggy from sleep, but the unendurable pain seemed to have lessened, for now.

She ought to have been frightened of such a powerful bird standing over her, but one look into those gentle eyes and she knew she was safe.

“Susan.” He spoke her name again.

Recognition flooded over her and she half sat up as tears streamed down her face.

“Aslan?”

“I have not gone by that name for some time, my child. I was once known as Aslan, but that world is no more. Its story has ended. Here I am known as Inri.”

“Narnia no more!? What happened?” she began. “Oh, of course. The trouble Jill and Eustace were meant to help with; they never made it. What happened? Has the land been conquered? No don’t tell me, I wouldn’t care to hear about more deaths.”

“It wasn’t conquest. And it wasn’t just Narnia. That whole world is no more. Like Charn after the time Digory Kirk and Polly Plummer visited it,” Inri explained.

“Would Eustace and Jill have been able to save it?” asked Susan.

“They did save it,” the eagle answered, “I brought them from the train to Narnia. But that was to be Narnia’s last battle. After that, Narnia and that whole world’s time was complete and the world overwhelmed.”

“So they died in Narnia, not in the train wreck? And what of the others?”

“No child, they died in the train wreck. They all did. But Eustace and Jill were needed first in Narnia.”

“So what became of them after Narnia was destroyed?” asked Susan, her head was starting to spin with the realisation that more had been going on in unseen realms than what she knew of from the train wreck.

“They, like all other faithful Narnians, and all other faithful people from every world who have passed on, are now in my country. Narnia, your world, this world – they are all but shadows of the True World that is my country. They are all now at peace and reunited, living and serving in my everlasting land.”

“All of them?” asked Susan, uncertain of how to feel about this revelation. Could it be true? That her family’s lives had not been snuffed out at the crash, but instead had truly begun?

“All of them,” he answered. “Peter, Edmund, Lucy, your parents. Jill, Eustace, Digory and Polly. They are all there.”

Susan didn’t know what to say. She let the tears flow and the Eagle watched her with compassion.

“Asl...Inri, if I had been on the train, not believing in you or Narnia or all that is true, would I be….?” She left the question unfinished.

“My child,” the Eagle had tears in his eyes.

“I failed you. How could I be so weak? I suppose I deserved all that happened to me. That last time we spoke, when you told me I couldn’t return, I promised so much. I intended to follow you and serve you in our world, but instead I denied your existence. But even back then, you knew, didn’t you? You tried to warn me? And still I failed.”

“Yes child, but all that is past. Now you remember.”

“Only because I see you now.”

“But you remembered before you saw me. You had already begun to remember after the train crash. Why else did you go to look for the rings?”

“I suppose. But I wasn’t sure. I was grasping for anything I could hold onto to make sense of what was happening. But I wasn’t sure of you, of whether I believed in you. Of whether I liked who you were.

“Aslan, why did you let it happen?” In her distress, she used his old name. She knew she had no right to ask, but she felt had to.

“Oh my child!” Here, he stretched out a wing and covered her in an embrace of soft feathers.

“You ask the right question, not querying why I caused it to happen. These things happen in your world, and in others, because they are fallen. You know this. It hurts me as it hurts you. As to why I did not prevent it; there are so many reasons, and all of them were for good – for the good of Narnia, for your good, for the good of the people in this world. I use all situations for the good of those who love me and those whom I love. Do you believe this?”

“I think so,” she said. “At least, I want to believe. And when I look back on all you’ve done, I must believe. It doesn’t all make sense, but as Mrs Beaver once said, ‘You are good’”.

“My child, that is faith. Remember what you said the first time you came here and the animals didn’t all trust you? Remember what you said about sometimes needing to trust without knowing for sure that you could?”

Susan remembered how the weaver had been watching her so intently during that speech. She nodded.

“You were right. Sometimes faith requires a shot in the dark – trusting without knowing for sure that a person deserves your trust.”

“But I do know you. Time has shown me that you don’t let us down. I’m sorry for doubting when I’ve had so much more interaction with you than most people. I know I don’t deserve it, but will you forgive me?”

“I already have.”

With those words, he placed his second wing over her, and she buried her face in his feathers, allowing his forgiveness to sweep over her as it had done those many years ago in Narnia, when she had let him down the first time.

I been writing TLC stories during NaNo the past couple few days. (I promise, everything I'm writing is very connected, even if it doesn't look like it! 😉 ) I wrote this one today.

Chandelier Story:

One day, Kristi got a brand new chandelier.

It was shiny, and had fishes, and seaweed, and and and more fishes.

Tenny and Gypsy and Arna happened to be there when the delivery truck brought it to the door. They enthusiastically volunteered to help Kristi install it. And, with Kristi standing on Happy's back and Arna standing on Happy's head and Tenny hanging from another chandelier and Gypsy being very smart and using the only ladder they bothered to find, they soon got it securely fastened in place.

"Yay!" everyone shouted. It was a grand moment.

Tenny examined it for a moment with much satisfaction, and then she announced, "It is time to try it out!"

"Yay!" everyone shouted again. Although Kristi seemed a little uncertain about the whole idea.

First, Gypsy and Tenny swung on the chandelier. Kristi ducked.

Then, Gypsy and Arna swung on the chandelier. Kristi hid underneath the giraffe.

And then Tenny and Arna swung on the chandelier. Kristi and the giraffe hid underneath the rug.

All would have been well, except that...

"Caspy!" shouted Arna, "There's not room for you up here!

"Oh, no." said Kristi. She hid her eyes.

"Craaaaccckkkk!" said the ceiling.

Everybody ducked behind something, for fear of breaking glass.

"CRASH!" said the chandelier on the floor.

"Eek!" shouted Arna, who wisely flew off of the chandelier before it fell.

"Oof!" said Tenny, who luckily fell a good ways away on the green couch.

I suppose that as it was Caspy's fault in the first place, it was only fair for him to get the worst of it. He screamed as he fell and ended up tangled up in the smashed chandelier in the middle of the floor.

Cautiously peeking out from their various hiding places, everybody slowly came out to examine the damage.

There was a largish hole in the ceiling. A robin curiously peered through it at the mess below.

Arna and Tenny were uninjured, as were everyone who had hidden.

Caspy, after being helped up and brushed off by Sir William and Sir Edward, limped off to go change. He seemed to be mostly ok.

But the poor chandelier... Kristi stared at it sadly.

"I suppose it won't work as a chandelier any more," said Happy, "but at least the fishes didn't break!" and she gathered them together and strung them together on a string and hung it across a window. The fishes sparkled in the sunlight. It cheered Kristi up a bit, but the rest of the chandelier had to be thrown away.

Happy climbed onto the ceiling to examine the hole. "Let's patch this up!" she said, so Kristi and Tenny and Gypsy went down to the treasure chamber and found a couple more ladders, and everyone helped to patch up the hole.

"I suppose that we need a new chandelier, again," said Kristi, who made a mental note to ask Lil to charge Caspy for the broken one.

"Oh, goody!" said Islie, brightening up.

Tenny got busy right away. She pulled a chandelier catalog out from under a cushion on the green couch. "I was saving this for just this sort of occasion," she said.

"Oooh!" said a chorus of voices. Kristi sat down on the couch and examined the catalog. Everyone gathered around to look too.

Some of the chandeliers were gaudy, some were just plain strange, and some were very un-Narnian. Some of them were exciting, though. Like the one with a decorative chicken coop in the middle of it. Arna started talking excitedly about chickens as soon as she saw that one.

"I hope you aren't wanting me to buy that thing?!" exclaimed Kristi, a bit alarmed.

"No, not really," said Arna.

Kristi was relieved. Nobody else particularly minded that, either. No matter how much one likes chickens, one generally does not want a chicken coop attached to a chandelier. Arna strongly suspected that chickens would be happier with the normal sort of coop, too.

Then there was the chandelier that had imitation icicles that would dangle nearly to the ground.

"Shiny!" said a few someones, but then another someone muttered something about how they'd always feel like the White Witch was just around the corner if there were year-round icicles in the room. Islie was relieved at this shift in the conversation, as she was afraid that she would always be running into such a very dangly chandelier as that.

"It's more complicated than you might think for one's head to be so far above one's feet," she explained. "Especially if one is rather absent-minded."

Kristi turned another page in the catalog and was immediately greeted by a poofy stained-glass frog chandelier. It seemed to be staring at her with a bored sense of superiority. She raised her eyebrows at it and quickly turned the page. She never liked her chandeliers to feel so much above her.

Then in quick succession were a pink and blue chandelier that doubled as a doll cradle, a golden chandelier that was sprawling and spirally and simply dripping with rubies and emeralds, and a chandelier that had little slides and tunnels and things for marbles to roll through.

Kristi turned another page and stopped. This one was perfect.

"Stars!" said Gypsy.

"Look, look, it's the big dipper!" said Islie.

The price was reasonable, so Kristi said, "Someone dig around in the treasure chamber for a bit of money. Let's get it."

Everybody cheered the fisherdess's decision and several persons started running around the treasure chamber looking for the modern American money hidden down there. (So much easier to buy with than gold and jewels!)

So the chandelier was ordered, and everyone waited anxiously for it to arrive. It seemed to take forever, but finally one day (the day after Caspy finally paid for the chandelier he broke), there was a knock at the door.

Upon opening the door, Kristi discovered a delivery Wiggle with a heavy-looking box. After placing the chandelier carefully on a table, he said, "Chandelier. It shall break within a fortnight, I shouldn't wonder."

"I certainly hope not!" said Kristi, looking meaningfully at Caspy.

"I don't think I like swinging on chandeliers," said Caspy, sulkily. "And falling from them is even worse."

"Good," said Kristi, and saw the marsh-wiggle out the door.

Then all was excited activity, opening the box, carefully taking out all the pieces, assembling it, and hanging it on the ceiling. And after it was up, everyone stepped back and sighed in satisfaction.

"The Big Dipper!" said Islie.

"Stars!" said Gypsy.

"Let's swing!" said Tenny and Arna in unison.

Kristi shuddered and hid behind the giraffe, but the swinging went on without any mishap.

First Arna and Tenny swung on the chandelier and scattered shiny star reflections all over the room and everyone in it.

Then Tenny and Gypsy swung on the chandelier and sang Christmas carols at the top of their voices.

Then Arna and Gypsy swung on the chandelier and dropped letter grades on everybody's heads.

While the letter grade shower was still going on, Purple Dragon wandered into the room, looking around for stray treasure to lay down on.

Presently, he looked up at the star chandelier. "Treasure!" he said. "Treasure... swing?" Purple Dragon stood up and put one dragonish paw on the chandelier (prompting much screaming from the kakapo and unicavvey seated thereon) and prepared to hoist himself up.

Kristi shouted, "DON'T YOU DARE!"

Purple Dragon looked at her in surprise. "I only wanted to swing," he explained in his most charming voice.

"NO." said Kristi. "You would break the brand-new chandelier and probably bring the entire ceiling down with it."

"Oh," said Purple Dragon, who hadn't thought past the lure of treasure. He took his paw off of the chandelier (and everyone sighed in relief, especially Kristi and Arna and Gypse) and sat down on the floor with a big bump that shook the entire room.

Purple Dragon considered for a few moments, and then said, "Perhaps I shall go down in the treasure chamber and find some treasure there instead."

"Yes, please!" everybody said. Purple Dragon was a bit surprised by their enthusiasm, as they usually merely tolerated his habit of borrowing treasure from the treasure chamber and leaving it all over the floor for everyone else to clean up. However, he certainly wasn't going to complain about it, so he wandered down to the treasure chamber, where Caspy helped him gather some nice, comfortably pokey treasure and bring it upstairs.

Purple Dragon settled down on his treasure heap, sighing contentedly.

Everyone else looked at the beautifully intact chandelier and sighed contentedly.

And now that Purple Dragon was settled down and not likely to cause any more mischief for the time being, Arna and Gypse climbed down from the chandelier, still a bit shaken from Purple Dragon's attempt to climb up onto it.

Kristi liked her brand new starry chandelier.