Quest for the Golden Puffle 3 (3): The Last Piece

The Caster glided quickly towards the woods with Regulus in tow.  As she went, she reflected on the events of the past few minutes.  She had been sure Sir would squeal on her, knew the man hated coffee, and was aware that Sir always gave correspondents twenty minutes to get to a spur of the moment meeting.  The conclusion?  Sir would call Alaska and Yukon almost immediately after she made her final departure from his home and tell them to meet him in twenty minutes at the place he would least likely go to - the Coffee Shop.  It was child's play.  At least for the observant.  And no one beat the Caster at that game.

Regulus was yelling, calling to help that wouldn't and couldn't come.  If the Caster had eyes like penguins, she would have rolled them.  She sighed and made Sir fall asleep immediately with her powers.  Now, where was she?

Ah, yes, Alaska and her little rag doll Yukon.  The Caster never liked to admit mistakes - nor did she do so very often - but she had to admit she had underestimated Sir.  The Caster had figured Sir would have caught his breath, thinking about the day's events for at least a couple minutes.  Instead, it turned out he wasted little time, causing the meeting to happen sooner than the Caster anticipated.  This meant that she wasn't able to capture him before information had been given to Alaska and Yukon.  What had he told them?  The Caster didn't know.  Even the most wise and powerful woman in the world has her limits.

However, the Caster quickly swept the thought away.  Sir probably didn't really realize what the Caster's true intentions were, and the mysterious woman highly doubted that Alaska would be able to work it out - let alone Yukon.

No, it was time to get on with it now that every piece of the puzzle had been put in place.  Or, almost put in place.  There was Sir to worry about.  The Caster soared high in the sky and went to a remote part of the forest.  She then placed the slumbering Regulus Sir on the ground, placing a rock under his head in replacement of a pillow so that the man who had tried to rat her out would wake up with a very uncomfortable crink in the neck.  He would wake up in a week or so, give or take a couple of days.  The Caster doubted that she would ever see the man again, nor did she care what happened to him.  Maybe someday his name would be in the history books that would show how the Caster rose to power.

The Caster went back towards the main island and never looked back.  Her only regret as she left the sleeping official was that she didn't have the ability to use that power more often.

The night was growing as the Caster continued on her way.  Gusts of wind were picking up, as was the winter helping of snow.  There was a storm coming - both literally and figuratively.  How fitting.

The Caster's reign was about to begin.  And it was going to be beautiful.

To Be Continued