There was a sound like the screech of a wounded animal.

    Full of chocolate, Dotty sighed and stood up. Warily she shuffled toward the door that had a surprising amount of locks stretched all over it. One click, turn and nip after another, she lengthly worked her way to the last ping and then creak of the opening.
    'Slip them in my palm first, dear,' she gently spoke.
    Mary fumbled through her twenty six pockets, still quite dazed. Several bits of torn paper fluttered around her like early snow. The dust and sand she unsettled caught the sun rays of the cold, crisp morning air. Then finally she found what she was looking for. Five small words, scribbled on different colored paper scraps. Mary placed them tenderly into Dotty's wrinkled hand.
    Dotty picked up the one that looked like it was a fluff of an old ticket to somewhere. The corners faintly read ADM.. ONE. But what Dotty was more interested in was the untidy scrawl in the middle.
    'Maskwereid,' she read.
     'But what could it mean?' Mary asked.
     'If you've heard and spelled correctly, it could mean lots of things,' Dotty sang mysteriously, 'In my youth, my mother once whispered that word and many others into my ear. Tales of parties, princesses and balls. Thank you, Mary. Perhaps it will help.' Dotty smiled a warm smile and let Mary through the doorway, then started the long process of locking the door behind her.
    Mary stood in the middle of their cave and gazed at the flickering fire place for a minute.
    'Are you alright, dear?' Dotty asked quietly, 'You're looking a bit pale and.. oh! You pretty frock is tattered and boots muddy. My, my, what a mess. Where have you been lurking?'
     Mary's words stumbled. 'A.. I.. just.. just the forest, auntie. It was raining very hard.'
    'Ah, well. Let's not tarry any longer and get you out of those wet garbs before you catch you death of cold. Leave them here to mend on my chair,' said Dotty.
    Mary walked to her room, which was just another hole at the end of a tunnel leading out of the living space. She lifted the hanging patterned red curtain and stepped in side, already unbuttoning the front of her dress. Off came her boots and everything else. She left it all on a rail in front of her own fire and slipped on a new dress, black as midnight. One glance at her liquid mirror, and she turned to go back into the kitchen.
    Before she could do so, a squeak came from the fire place. Shocked at her own carelessness, she ran to her hanging dress and the twenty third pocket. With careful movements, she wriggled out the moaning, peeping, whining, yelping, cheeping Spleen and set it down on her knee.
    'You wanted to burn us, I know it,' one voice declared haughtily.
    'That's right, there's no trusting her,' another spat.
Mary looked at the Spleen and didn't answer. It was very small now, shrunk to the size of the pocket it was hiding in.
    'Listen now, and listen carefully,' she said to the Spleen.
    'We always-' it began, but Mary cut in. 'Auntie does not allow anyone in here. Or anything,' she said, looking at one mouth of the Spleen's in particular. 'No mischief, or I chuck you back into the forest. If you wish to stay here with me, you have to behave- '
The spleen was starting to snicker, but, one glance and Mary's stern face, it turned into a cough.
    '-you have to behave, and you have to work.'
    'Work?'
    'Yes, help me gather new words for auntie.'
    'What does she need words for?' it started to protest.
    'To try and make her well again. She has forgotten something very, very important.' Mary proudly answered.
     'Very important,' she added.
    The Spleen frowned and looked at Mary. Still puzzled, it was placed on the bed, while Mary stood up and headed for the kitchen.
    'I'll get you some food - you do eat, don't you?'
    Without waiting for an answer, she left. The red patterned curtain fluttered behind her.

aizbēgt.