Ella, come home with me.

One does not begin to test something like the key to fantasy with something dangerous. Ella, though able to solve problems with wisdom and friendship, was comparatively harmless -- if the key worked as advertised.

"Ella, come over here," Rob stammered nervously. It was one thing to be transported into a Holywood picturesque medievil village, but quite another to...

Ah! Sparkles and mist shimmered around the girl's head. She was indeed the character and not the actress. She was also currious and a little alarmed.

But also so obedient! "Who are you, Sir?" she demanded politely, walking up to him.

"Be quiet," Rob commanded with greater confidence. "Stand perfectly still!"

More sparkling effects, and Ella stood ridgedly at attention, quiet as a doll. Rob stepped up to her. Waved his hand in front of her eyes, then put one arm around her slim waist. It was a good start. It was probably best to begin with test subject whose obedience was guaranteed.

"Okay, now for the next test," he said, holding up the key. There was a shimmer, and a door opened in the air before them, leading out of the enchanted glade, and into his appartment.

"Follow me to my home," he commanded, and the sparkling Ella followed stiffly in silenced alarm. "Sit down on the couch," he instructed. "You can talk now, but only in a whisper. Remain on the couch until I say otherwise."

He turned to consider the door to fantasy. The key could close it, but then what? Would Ella disappear? Would he be able to return her when he was done? Did he really want to?

So many questions, and Ella had a few too. "Who are you? What do you want with me? How ... how do you know about my curse?"

"I am Robert Lock, but you may call me ... Master. I want to have a little fun with you, my obedient wench. About your curse... let's just say I know quite a lot about it, including how you can get rid of it."

Ella's eyes lit up. "You do? How can I do that, Master?"

"Well..." Robby considered. To tell her or not to tell her? That was the question. If the key worked as his uncle promised --and it had so far-- he could always alter her to his will. Still, why ruin a good thing?