he didn't get one. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and watched for the sun. The answer to that question would have to wait for another day.

When Stella woke, the sun was up, the tent was empty and it took her a minute to remember where she was and how she got there.

"Marooned," she sighed. "My new least-favorite word." She grabbed the tote and dumped out the flashlight, the TWA headscarf, the Indian princess dress and the leggings and moccasins that matched. There were a few other things in the carry-on bag: a TWA pencil, a red leatherette-bound travel diary that had TWA on the cover and, perhaps most important of all, a small TWA Swiss army knife that had two blades and seven retractable tool attachments.

"Tway makes knivessaid George.

Stella sniffed and wiped a tear away with her finger.

"Of course we'll figure something out," said Freddy in a more convincing tone.

"Figure out what?"

"How to get home," said George.

"On our own," said Freddy.

"But we can still signal the first boat or plane that goes by."

"There won't be any boats, Sweets."

"Or planes," said George.

"No?" Stella sniffed and smeared a tear across her cheek.

"None," said George.

"Why?"

"Something to do with the mirror, Sweets."

"What's that stupid mirror have to do with it?"

"The raven said when you broke it, it did something," Freddy sighed. "It cast a spell, or triggered an enchantment, or caused a curse, or something like that. The raven was really furious, I couldn't follow it all, he was ranting like a crazy crow."

"But how does the raven even