It was dusk before Adital and Stephen arrived at the Doubtful Swallow Inn. They found a sturdy gate blocking the trail, which cut through a thick, impassible hedge that surrounded the inn. The Doubtful Swallow was the last inn on the forest path before Packard City, and many felt an inn was a place of well-being and friendship from the magic that haunted most of the forest. The hedge kept evil from the inn’s doors. Many old-timers believed magic was an essential part of Piscary, and they thought the thicket kept trouble at bay. This feeling, of course, was hotly debated by many people.

     A small house just inside the gate where an older man sat smoking a long-stemmed briar. He would lean back in his chair and blow a smoke ring into the evening sky.  A small bird would sweep down, fly through the ring, and sweep back into the topiary. It was a chirpy game for both the gatekeeper and the birds.  The watchman saw the visitors, clamped the pipe firmly between his teeth, and approached the gate.

     “Aye, what brings you down this lonely path tonight? We don’t get many visitors after dark, so where are you headed?”

     “This is the end of a long day, and we want to spend the night at the inn if that’s OK with you,” growled Adital. 

     “No need to get offended,” said the watchman. The inn is just ahead. Have a cold brew for me; you sound like you could use it.” The watchman swung open the gate, and Adital. and Stephen walked down the path to the inn.

     Old legends told of the high-spirited and mischievous beings in this forest. They spent their time harassing the forest people and animals, which Adital and Stephen were indeed witnesses.

     The inn marked the end of the trail. Usually, only a motley crew passed through the gate, mostly day laborers bound for Packard City.  There were occasional other travelers, but they were rare.  The night watcher’s curiosity about the purpose of Adital and Stephen’s visit was justified because some unpleasant creatures might attempt to sneak in.  Unhappily, that is what happened that evening.

     The nightwatchman held the gate open as he watched the explorers make their way to the inn. During that brief moment, a boggart snuck into the compound and faded into the deepening shadows. Boggarts are small, fairy-like creatures who are a nasty addition to any household.  Fairies tend to be kind for the most part, but boggarts are impish, break things, and are the worst house guests imaginable. This boggart had attached himself to Adital and had skillfully untied one of his shoes. 

     The weary trekkers made their way to the inn and planned to spend the evening resting and deconstructing the day’s events. There was one individual who had other plans for the evening.

     Adital was dog-weary.  He had given his utmost courage and awareness to incredible adventures since he left Oxford’s castle, plus overeating at Max and Beatrice’s cracking good dinner had taken its toll.  Adital was quite ready for bed. 

     Stephen didn’t need to sleep but decided to find a seat in the community room and discover what he could learn of human behavior.  He found a dark corner, ordered a beer for appearance’s sake, then watched and listened.

     A grey-bearded man, wearing regular clothing and a green cape, left his table and walked to Stephen and said in a gruff voice, “Now, I know you aren’t going to drink that beer but would you mind if I sat with you?  It would look better if you if had company.”

     “Better than what,” quipped Stephen?

      “Better than having people asking why a robot was sitting alone with a full beer because you aren’t fooling anybody, you know. Who are you trying to fool, anyway? You must understand many people around here have their robots.  Welcome to civilization! My name is Padmaakar, but you can call me Bob.

     “Why, Hello Bob, I am called Stephen, and my companion, Adital, and I have finished quite a journey, and we are on our way back home. I never realized we lived in a backward society or that his place was so thoroughly sophisticated. Mechanical men are just becoming a reality for our commonwealth, but I look forward to broader use. I didn’t see any robots at this inn. Do you know if they are assisting here?

     “Goodness, you are provincial,” joked Bob, “I am a Mechanical Man and a professor at Packard University.  It seems that our technology is quite a bit more advanced than your world. Where are you from, anyway?”

     While Bob was talking; Stephen probed his mind and discovered that Bob wasn’t a professor or even a robot. It seemed that Bob wasn’t even human and Stephen couldn’t determine what he was; this was his first encounter with such a being, and it seemed best to humor this creature, follow his lead and play along with what he was saying. Stephen told Bob a story of fantastical adventures involving fairies, strange wizards, magical crows, and talking trees. He took much of these adventures from his actual experiences. And it was, of course, a great story.

     “Professor Bob” listened to this tail and shook his head. “None of this makes any sense, and it seems that you need a significant intellectual capacity adjustment. You are suffering from a significant mental overload that has overwhelmed you. Don’t make any decisions; spend time organizing your thought processes and let your mind fall into a state of flow.”

     Stephen assured Bob he would follow his advice, told him he could drink his beer, and excused himself.  It seemed to be a more intelligent choice to watch Adital sleeping than stay in the community room any longer.

     The bogart smiled to itself,  downed the beer in one large gulp, and looked for another victim.

     It was morning. Adital sat, working on a giant plate of scrambled eggs, Hasselback potatoes, and Ukwa breadfruit while Stephen related his adventures in the community room.

     “It appears the Doubtful Swallow Inn is not immune from the ravages of the magical forest,” said Adital between mouthfuls. “I wonder if that creature was a bogart or a Gamayun? Those creatures can assume different shapes to confuse their victims, and you did the right thing by coming back to our room.   What an extraordinary trip we have had! I can’t wait to get back to my place and go fishing again.  Do you think you’ve seen enough mystery and strange quandaries to impress your mentor?”

     “I know this is not an android thing to say, but I’m quite overwhelmed,” admitted Stephen. My mentor is pleased with my adventures and wants me to return to our village to begin work. Along the way, I believe it would be wise to visit Amos, tell him of our escapades, and glean any advice he might give us. Speaking of our return trip, what do you think I should do with all of Oxford’s mementos? “

     Adital finished a massive mouthful of potatoes and said, “that’s an excellent question, and perhaps we should let fate decide where they should go. Fate has determined much of our fortunes this trip, so we should give serendipity full rein to the rest of our journey.

     “Frankly, I don’t believe in fate,” said Stephen. “Life presents you with a series of events, and what you decide to do with them determines your outcome. Do you still feel a trip to Packard City is worth the effort? I can’t think of anything that city could offer that would match the adventures we’ve already experienced.”

     “Stephen, that’s so funny.  Going to Packard City was my main objective for this entire trip.  Here, we get to the outskirts and decide the destination is completely irrelevant. Go figure!

     But, I do agree with you and feel a trip to Packard City would be frivolous compared to our other experiences. I think your decision is a wise one and we should plan an early start tomorrow morning. I will pack extra food and water for the journey, and I will take a nap this afternoon so we can plow through to the castle.  Amos hasn’t told me what the villagers have decided to name the castle.  At the rate he is going, I hope his wine holds out!”

     “I wonder if Amos would mind if I took a suit of armor home,” considered Stephen. “Now, that would certainly go a long way to impress my mentor of the intensity of our encounters. It’s going to be hard enough to convince him of talking trees.”

     “You never know,” reflected Adital. he may have sold most of the odds and ends in his tag sale.  Amos told me Oxford had cleaned out most of the money before he left.  Say! That’s an idea!  Do you know what is in Oxford’s knapsack? “

     “I have no idea,” said Stephen. “Shall we take a look?

The End of Part One