Chapter 2: Sir Eric Roberts of Atlantia

“Master?”

Sir Eric Nicolas Roberts, Viscount of Atlantia, sighed, then mumbled, “Hmm?”

“Is the Queen’s castle much further?”

His Excellency opened his eyes and looked down from his horse at his fourteen-year-old squire James walking beside him.

“Do you see it yet, squire?”

“No, Master, I do not,” he said just before he clumsily stumbled.

“Are you tired, boy?”

“No, not tired. My left shoe has a hole in it, Master, and I keep getting pebbles in it.”

Eric commanded, “Hop up here, then.”

James said with relief, “Thank you, Master.”

It took James three tries to get on the horse, and the only reason he made it on the third was from Eric grabbing the boy’s arm before he toppled off again.

“Thank you, Master,” James repeated once his butt was settled in the saddle in front of Eric.

Eric said evenly, “Just make sure you get your shoe fixed before we leave for Atlantia.”

James turned halfway around with a look of happy astonishment, then when Eric couldn’t stop a grin from breaking through his mask of indifference, James swung his leg over to give Eric a hug, but fell off the horse instead.

Eric thought to himself, Not again.

“Sorry, Master.”

Eric held his hand out to the boy, and despite himself, was enchanted even more by the boy by his innocent blush as Eric pulled the boy back up on the horse.

“Thank you, Master,” James said as he hugged Eric. “I’ll be the best squire in the entire kingdom.”

“Just don’t forget that, boy,” Eric said sternly as James turned around to face the front. “I can think of three other boys who are just as eager, but they don’t chatter on like you.”

“Sorry, Master,” he said, his enthusiasm drooping.

Eric simply handed the boy the reins to restore his spirits, then closed his eyes to try and get some more rest.

“Master?”

“Hmm?”

“I think the devil is in my head.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can’t stop thinking of those two naked ladies.”

“Squire, you don’t have the devil inside your head. When I was your age, I wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking about them either. Stop worring about it.”

“Yes, Master.”

...

“Squire?”

“Yes, Master?”

“I won’t share my women with you. You have to find your own to fornicate with.”

“Yes, Master, but ... How did you know I was thinking that?”

“Because I asked my master the same thing when I was your age. Now hush up. I’m trying to rest.”

“Yes, Master,” James said happily.

Ten minutes later...

“Master?”

Eric asked grouchily, “What squire?”

“I can see the castle. What do the black flags mean?”

“Black flags?” Eric said, jolting his eyes open, spotting the black flags James was talking about, then took the reins from James’s hands and commanded, “Get behind me! MOVE!”

James had barely gotten his leg over the horse behind Eric when Eric brought the horse to a gallop. As the horse increased its speed and cut into the forest, James had to wrap his arms around Eric to keep from falling off.

Eric yelled, “Squire!”

“Yes, Master?”

“Black flags mean the castle is under siege. We’re making for a stream where I’m going to drop you off. Follow it upstream until you reach the second bridge, then follow the road to your right until you reach a farm. The farmer will keep you safe until I come for you. Clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell me where you’re going?”

“To a farm.”

“And how do you get there?”

“Follow the river upstream. Second bridge, right.”

“Good boy! Now give me your shoe.”

“My shoe, Master?”

“The one with the hole in it.”

“I’m sorry, Master. I fibbed. I WAS tired.”

“Boy, if you want to be my squire, don’t ever fib to me again, no matter how little.”

“Yes, Master, I won’t ever again.”

Once Eric spotted the stream, he slowed his steed as they approached it, and then brought it to a halt beside it.

“Squire, run, and don’t stop until you see the farm. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll see you in a day or two.”

After Eric had turned to go, the boy shouted, “Master!”

“Squire, I said run!”

“Yes, sire, but ... For the Love of the Queen!”

Eric grinned and said, “Yes, squire!” then echoed the kingdom’s battle call, “For the Love of the Queen!”

After a mad gallop through the woods, Eric slowed his horse and dismounted it when he approached the forest’s edge near the castle. The grounds surrounding the castle were littered with the bodies of soldiers, all of whom wore the crest of the Queen’s only enemy, Lord Harris.

Despite there being so many bodies, a large force of the enemy was still at large, most of which were trying to find their way through a tangle of magical booby traps scattered about.

Eric was crouched down and watching the enemy through some bushes when Timicus appeared on a rock just beside him and said, “Soldiers are so much like mice when put into a maze.”

Eric warned, “Aye, but they may turn into lions if they become trapped.”

Timicus knelt to watch alongside Eric and said, “‘Tis good to see you, brother.”

“Aye, brother. I see you have been busy with the magics?”

“You know the Queen. She firmly believes that killing the enemy only fuels their family’s quest for revenge.”

“I know the wisdom in her words, but then the enemy just comes back.”

“Yes, but they don’t remember doing so, so the same tricks can work every time.”

“Surely, you do not rely on this.”

“Nay, my brother. I bore much too easily.”

Eric chuckled, then said, “The Queen and her champion are well?”

“For the moment. However, Sir Joseph’s wound was made by a sword forged by black magic. It will never heal entirely. I fear our champion will not live to see his duties through.”

“Then, I trust my brother has a plan to circumvent this.”

“I do.”

“Am I to guess this plan of yours?”

“Eric, my brother, your skill as a swordsman is nearly as great as your skills as a lover. The Queen must have a champion who can spread the love for her and bring justice to those who need it. You qualify beyond measure for both.”

“Brother, I know you are not suggesting that I challenge Joseph to a fight to the death.”

“Nay, my brother. Our offer to you to be the Queen’s next champion requires no human bloodshed besides that of those foolish to challenge you to the right. But the Queen’s Champion must have no other loyalties intruding on his service to the Queen. Do you love your queen enough to abandon your duties as Viscount of Atlantia for the next seven years?”

“You well know that my father, the man who raised us as brothers, would personally castrate me if I even hesitated to say my life belongs to my queen. There is no conflict. My duties and loyalties have always been to the service and love of the Queen.”

“Then I shall inform the Queen she has a new champion, and as we shall need to prepare the castle for a double ceremony...”

Timicus stood up, put his fingers to his mouth, and let out a long, loud whistle.

Eric stayed crouched as a few of the enemy soldiers noticed Timicus and quickly had the entire force’s attention.

“Excuse me! I’m afraid there’s been a cock-up. The castle you’re looking for is seventy miles that way!” Timicus yelled, pointing to the East. “This castle is owned by a pair of newlywed dragons who should be getting back from their honeymoon any minute now.”

The crowd of soldiers became very agitated, some of them looking frantically up at the sky for any sign of the beasts while a couple shouted something back to Timicus.

Timicus shouted back, “I believe they’re both fire breathing, but I did hear someone say they were into sniffing acid, so I suppose it’s possible they could breathe it back out on you.”

After another man shouted, Timicus put his hand on his hip and cried, “Look, I’m not a dragonalogist. As I see it, at best you all will end up as toasted marshmallow men on those pokey sticks you all seem to have, so if I were you, I’d haul ass east!”

“Morons,” Timicus muttered under his breath before saying in a mocking voice, “But I thought fire breathing dragons hated acid breathing dragons. Hello? It’s a dragon. Who cares what they breathe.”

Eric asked, “Double ceremony?”

“Yea, the wedding of our Queen to Sir Joseph. Huh. They still aren’t leaving.”

Timicus closed his eyes and muttered in an ancient language a moment before clapping twice and then sneezing.

Eric said, “Bless you.”

Timicus sniffed and said, “Thank you. I’m allergic to dragons, you know.”

“But there isn’t going to be any dragons, right?”

A scream from the distant men was followed by a sudden hush, and just as Eric saw what appeared to be an extremely fast moving cloud, the entire enemy army ran like hell eastward.

“Oh shit!” Eric said just as Timicus sneezed again.

“Oh shit is right. I need a handkerchief. I don’t suppose you have the kidneys of a rabbit or squirrel on you?” Timicus asked.

“What? No. Will they stop dragons?”

“No. They’re [sniffles] natural antihistamines for dragon allergies. Take two squirrel kidneys and your dragon sniffles go away, my auntie always says.”

“Your auntie is a loon, and I’m thinking you are too if you actually called two dragons to get rid of that lot.”

“No, the dragons are mainly for you to slay. Slyterious Zonicous Zi-squirrel!”

A poof of pink smoke left two small fresh kidneys in Timicus’s hand. He then held his nose as he popped them in his mouth and swallowed them whole.

He made a face, then snapped three times with his right hand. The large turtle that poofed into existence in front of him made him frown, but then he snapped once to poof it back to where it had come before snapping three times with the other hand.

After a glass of water on a pedestal poofed before him, Timicus quickly downed the water before snapping once again to poof it away.

Eric asked, amused, “What was the turtle for?”

“Oh, nothing. I forgot I had made three snaps on my right-hand potluck every Wednesday. The Queen finds it amusing when my magic doesn’t always work the way I expect it to.”

Eric said urgently, “Timicus, I’ve never slain a dragon before.”

“Yes, and that is why I have provided you with not one, but two dragons. The Queen’s Champion must also be a proven slayer of dragons, you know.”

Timicus looked over to Eric’s horse, then tilted his body to look beside the horse before asking, “I say, Eric. Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Eric said, exasperated, “No, I did not bring any dragon fighting gear.”

“I didn’t expect you to. But shouldn’t you have a squire?”

“Oh, him. I sent him to the Keller farm. He’s not ready for combat.”

“The Keller farm, eh?” Timicus echoed, closing his eyes.

“Brother, please don’t bring...”

[Snap] [Snap] [Poof]

“ ... him here.”

As the pink smoke dissipated, James exclaimed, “Master!? What happened? How did I get here?”

Eric sighed, then said, “Squire James Nathalion Ritter, this is the Queen’s sorcerer, Timicus Brandton of Atlantia.”

“Wow! The Timicus?”

“Accept no substitutes,” Timicus said, snapping once to poof an ink plotter and feather to him.

Timicus picked up the feather and held it in the air as he looked down at the boy.

Timicus said with a little concern, “Rather puny for a squire. Is he the best you could do?”

Eric defended, “He makes up for his size in other ways.”

Timicus reached out and felt behind James’s ear, then pulled it back and remarked, “He’s still wet behind the ears. Did you take him from his mother’s arms?”

James said with embarrassment, “I sort of ... tripped.”

Timicus asked, “Tripped?”

“Yes, master. Into the stream.”

“I see,” Timicus said, walking around him.

“Only once,” James offered, then after glancing at Eric, he lowered his head and said, “I mean, twice.”

Timicus said, “Well, I suppose if a dragon gobbles him up, you can just get another squire.”

“Dragon?” James asked, then slowly raised his eyes upward until he spotted the circling beasts. “Master, there are two dragons circling the castle!”

Timicus suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, pixy poop! I forgot to change the flags. Blast, was it my left pinky, or my right?”

As Timicus poofed a half dozen foreign objects to and from the castle looking for the right snap combination, James said, “Master, the dragons aren’t acting like dragons.”

Eric exclaimed, “What?”

“Dragons don’t like to fly when they don’t have to. They should be swooping down testing the castle’s defenses, or at least gobbling up all these dead men.”

Timicus exclaimed, “And I forgot about the men! Aclaimous kalarato home-us!”

The field of sleeping men became a field of pink smoke.

Timicus asked, “Now, where was I?”

Eric glanced up at the castle, then chuckled and shook his head.

Timicus groaned, “What?”

“Red flags mean plague. Green flags mean dragon.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have a spell for green flags,” Timicus said with frustration. “Red will just have to do ... Hmmm ... Unless ... I could make everyone color blind for a day. Then they couldn’t tell the difference between red and green.”

“Red is fine,” Eric assured him. “No one will approach the castle either way.”

James commented, “Master, I don’t think they are dragons at all.”

Timicus demanded, “And how do you know so much about dragons, squire?”

“My father is the Lord of Saint Greggor, sire. Not a day goes by without a dragon swooping down from the Clara Mountains for a meal.”

Timicus said honestly, “Perhaps your choice of a squire was not such a bad one after all, my brother.”

After Timicus poofed the inkwell and feather to him again, he said, “Very well, I Timicus, Master of the elements, court sorcerer of the great Queen Suzanne Aster, yadda yadda yadda, officially proclaim these two soldiers of the Queen’s army dragon slayers, otherwise known as ‘Ye slayers of dragons,’ patent pending, yadda yadda yadda, till death of all dragons, or the slayers themselves. And now I sign. Drop your drawers, boys.”

Eric asked, “Excuse me?”

“I said, drop your drawers. I have to sign your left butt cheeks.”

When Eric didn’t move, Timicus said, “Seriously.”

“You want to sign our asses.”

“I know, I know, it’s a little bizarre, but your ass is the whitest piece of flesh on your body, and this ink just doesn’t show up well on tanned skin.”

“Is this really necessary?”

“Look at it this way, my brother. If anyone ever asks you for your authorization to kill a dragon, all you have to do is ... well, show it to them.”

Eric lowered his drawers, Timicus bent over and scribbled his name, and then Timicus stood up and turned towards James.

His face flushing as he lowered his pants as well, James asked, “Won’t it just wash off?”

“This ink is made from the feces of flying elephants. It will never wash off.”

“Flying elephants?”

Eric said, “He is joking, squire,” while pulling his trousers up carefully.

“I am certainly not joking. Boy, you need a bigger ass.”

“Master, what does feces mean?”

“You don’t want to know,” Eric replied as Timicus dotted his i’s, making the boy yip.

“There we are,” Timicus said, standing up and putting the feather back in its inkwell. “Now that the legalities are taken care of, let’s get down to business.

“The boy is right,” Timicus said, giving James a wink. “Those are not real live dragons, but for both your sakes, no one else must ever learn of it or your credibility will be ruined for the rest of your lives.”

Eric asked, “Then what are they?”

“Dead ones actually,” Timicus said as he poofed his inkwell and feather away.

James asked with apprehension, “Ghosts master?”

Timicus scolded, “Ghosts do not have physical bodies, boy. Wouldn’t be much of a show, would it? Try to stab the bloody things and you just fall right through them. Think before you speak, boy. That’s a good lad.”

Eric concluded, “So they’re puppets. And you’re pulling their strings.”

Timicus said approvingly, “You are getting the picture now, my brother. I could not risk the Queen’s safety by bringing two real live dragons here, but it isn’t quite as simple as that, I’m afraid.”

Eric sighed, “No, of course not.”

“I didn’t lie when I said I wasn’t a dragonologist. In order to make the fight believable, they will have to fight like real dragons. Therefore their strings will be cut for the actual fight. But fear not, lads. You’ll get the hang of it.”

Timicus poofed a set of brown cloth suits beside them, their shapes resembling suits of armor, just without any metal.

“These will help protect you from their fire, but you probably won’t want to wear them until you have to. They’re awfully itchy.”

Two more poofs revealed a pair of shields and long pikes with silver tips. The shields were insulated with the same material as the suits, while the pikes were coated with a shiny, waxy substance.

Another set of poofs brought an assortment of other items such as nets, throwing axes, a couple of very long long-swords, and a cushioned chair that Timicus immediately sat down in.

Once Eric had looked through the equipment and was swinging one of the long swords to get a feel for it, Timicus asked, “Ready?”

Eric said, “You must be joking. I am supposed to fight two dragons without any instruction or practice?”

Timicus exclaimed, “Practice? What a marvelous idea!” before clapping to make everything go [poof].

As the pink smoke thinned around him, Eric found they were standing in a small desolate valley surrounded by dark menacing mountains covered by trees.

After noticing a cliff face that resembled a human skull, James exclaimed worriedly, “Grimm’s valley,” and quickly moved to stand in his master’s shadow.

Not finding the name familiar, Eric said, “Come again?”

“Master, Grimm’s valley is where the dragons come to ... copulate.”

Eric said warningly, “Timicus...”

Timicus said confidently, “The boy is correct, but what he doesn’t know is they only copulate when the females are in heat, and that won’t be for another moon. Or so our queen’s current champion claims, and I don’t have any reason to doubt his word in this matter.”

Eric said grouchily, “So what now? You call one of your pets and we dance around until it kills one of us?”

“Pretty much the idea, yes,” Timicus said as he pulled two medallions hanging on chains out of his robes. “Most dragon slayers train for a decade before attempting to take on a real dragon, and then they only have a twenty percent chance of surviving it.

“Seeing that we don’t have a decade, and we certainly want better odds than four to one against, I made these,” Timicus continued as he started to raise one of the medallions’ chains over Eric’s head, but then paused and asked, “Do you need to potty?”

“What? No, not really.”

“Urinate?”

“No.”

“Hungry then?” Timicus began, retracting the medallion’s chain from above Eric’s head. “Thirsty? Have a cramp in your leg? Need to blow your nose, scratch your ass, or anything else you need to physically do before we start?”

“No, why?”

“Well, once I put this on you, the medallion will memorize your body. Every detail will be stored, from the clothes on your back, the sweat on your skin, the position of your feet, the food in your belly, and of course the shit in your ass.

“And yes, I am quite sure you will both die in the next few minutes, very noisily and probably making a very bloody mess. But after your heart has missed one thousand beats, which is approximately ten minutes, your body will instantly be reassembled right where you’re standing, exactly the way you are now with only one exception. You will remember everything you did.”

James exclaimed, “Cool.”

Timicus said, “You may think so now, but after you’ve died once or twice, I think you will agree it isn’t a game.”

Eric asked, “How many times can we die?”

“There is no limit,” Timicus said as he crouched down to the ground. “However, there are other limitations. The medallions remember the exact place you put them on the very first time and will only work if you are within sound’s reach from that spot.

“This is the valley,” he said as he drew a large and rough oval in the dusty dead earth. He then pressed a shiny rounded pinkish flat pebble into the dirt in the very center and said, “And we are here.”

After a double snap, a roll of dark red twine poofed into his hand. He cut two arm lengths off and tied it into a loop, then poofed the roll away and kneeled over his map.

Carefully positioning the twine inside his drawing of the valley, he created a rounded rectangle within the oval while saying, “If you go outside the twine, the medallions will deactivate. You would have to return to the center to reactivate them, which will cause them to memorize your body again. While they are active, the medallions infuse themselves into your chest to prevent accidentally falling off, but this also means you cannot remove the medallions unless you deactivate them first.”

Timicus pulled a small leather bag out of his robes and began sprinkling the grey powder contained within it over the pebble and the twine while mumbling a short chant repeatedly.

Once he finished sprinkling the twine, he tore off two strips of cloth off his robe, dipped them in a bucket of water he poofed in, then handed Eric and James one each saying, “Put these over your nose and mouth and get ready to close your eyes. It’s about to get very windy.”

Eric couldn’t help but smile watching James tie his cloth behind his head with his eyes closed. He was just about to tell James to open his eyes when Timicus took a deep breath and started to blow on the pebble at the center of the map.

Winds like Eric had never experienced before descended from the clear sky, blowing the loose dirt surrounding them into the air. His vision was instantly reduced to where he couldn’t even see his squire standing five feet in front of him.

Dirt pelted his clothes and skin as the cloth covering his nose began clogging with dirt, and as the wind shifted its direction and he adjusted his weight to stay upright, he was startled to find the very ground beneath his feet crumbling and blowing away.

Then as suddenly as they had come, the winds died. After Eric blew enough of the caked dirt from the cloth over his mouth to breathe, he cracked his eyes and found the air practically clear.

James was on his knees and looking around through his fingers when Eric noticed the ground around him was not only shiny but hard and pink with small black speckles, just like the stone Timicus had pressed into the earth.

Eric removed the cloth from around his face as he watched the front edge of a large cloud of dirt and dust travel quickly across the valley in the distance, certain it was traveling the exact path Timicus had made with the twine.

James asked from beside him, “Master, where is Master Timicus?”

“I don’t know, squire,” Eric said with awe. “Up in the sky somewhere, I suppose.”

“Do you think he sees the dragons?”

Eric’s eyes shot up and instantly found four of the beasts flying at the far edge of the valley.

Eric analyzed, “They don’t seem to be coming this way. They probably don’t even know we’re here.”

“Master, dragons can see a sparrow a mile away. They know we are here. They must be planning something.”

Timicus poofed in right behind them and startled them both when he said, “I see I’ve stirred up more than just dust.”

Pointing southwest, James said, “Master, there are six more over there.”

Eric said, pointing southward, “And another five over there.”

As more began popping up all around the valley, Eric turned to Timicus and said, “I don’t believe there is much to learn from a slaughter.”

“I suppose we can come back later,” Timicus admitted after counting up to thirty and losing track. “A week should do it, so that would be ... help me here. 72 beats per minute times 60 minutes is... 4320 beats an hour... 24 times 43...”

“2580,” Eric announced. “Hurry up, they’re coming fast.”

“25 times 7...”

“175!” Eric exclaimed as fire began to bellow out from dozens of approaching mouths.

Eric leaped for one of the long swords as he yelled to James to grab a shield.

“Oh, that’s right,” Timicus exclaimed. “I already figured this out. Four snaps of my third finger on my left hand and...”

[poof]

The nearly full moon high in the sky cast an eerie glow to the rising pink smoke around Eric.

Timicus exclaimed with frustration, “Well, that’s not right.”

“Master, shh!” James whispered desperately. “Dragons.”

Timicus and Eric froze as they took in the landscape around them and saw it was filled with the still forms of countless dragons scattered throughout the valley.

Timicus was about to snap his fingers to poof them away again when a second Timicus poofed in.

“Ah, there you are at last,” the second Timicus, who appeared to be a good twenty years older than the original, said with a smile.

“Good lord!” the original Timicus exclaimed. “What on Earth are you doing here? And what the devil did you do to my hair?”

James repeated urgently, “Masters ... shhhhhh!”

“Don’t worry, lad,” the other Timicus said, smiling broadly as he patted his freshly trimmed short hair. “These dragons...”

A third Timicus, this one looking much older and completely bald, poofed in and said in chorus with the second, “Are all dead.”

“Dead?” Eric and the bald Timicus echoed as the bald Timicus sat down on a dead dragon’s midsection with a bored expression.

“My HAIR!” the original Timicus exclaimed as the bald one said it in a monotone voice.

The bald Timicus then pointed his finger at James and mumbled, “The boy says all of them.”

James asked, “All of them?”

A fourth Timicus, who appeared to be only a few years older than the original, poofed in with an enthusiastic smile and a crew cut.

“I apologize for being late,” the enthusiastic and the bald Timicus’s said. “Laws of time, you know.”

The bald Timicus points to Eric.

Eric asked, “How many of you are there?” with the bald Timicus’s monotone accompaniment.

The original Timicus exclaimed, “What is this all about?!” with the bald Timicus’s bored support.

Both the middle aged and the younger future Timicuses sighed, then along with the eldest Timicus said, “Laws of time.”

Both the enthusiastic and the bald Timicuses said, “We are here because we were here when you are here the first time.”

“But why did you all cut my hair?” the original Timicus asked painfully with the bald Timicus’s accompaniment. Then the original Timicus shouted at the bald one, “Will you please stop that!”

“Don’t mind him,” the bald Timicus said in his bored monotone voice. “He’s just proving a point.”

As the bald Timicus looked up, apparently startled by the fact he had been the only one to speak, another enthusiastic Timicus poofed in and said, “I apologize for being late. Laws of ... No?”

“One more,” the first enthusiastic Timicus and the bald Timicus said.

“Sorry,” the second enthusiastic Timicus said as the bald Timicus echoed him with a yawn.

[poof]

“Hair?” the original Timicus reminded everyone.

“Echem,” the middle aged Timicus said as the bald Timicus snapped his fingers at the enthusiastic one, surprisingly without causing any poofs.

“Oh, sorry. I’m still new to this, you know,” the enthusiastic Timicus said. “Now, don’t tell me ... Ah yes. Laws of time. Yes, that was it.”

The original Timicus exclaimed, “Laws of Time? You all cut my long beautiful hair because of the bloody laws of time?”

“Not me,” the bald Timicus said with only the slightest interest. “Mine fell out.”

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” the original Timicus moaned. “Thank you so much for sharing that! I have so much to look forward too now!”

“How did these dragons die?” Eric asked, ignoring the bald Timicus’s echoing of his words like the rest were.

“Yes, let’s discuss that, shall we?” the original Timicus said with a touch of contempt.

The middle aged Timicus said, “You and the squire killed them.”

The enthusiastic Timicus continued enthusiastically, “It was a friendly contest between you two. Very entertaining.”

The bald Timicus added, “Yes, yes. The Queen still talks about it even in my day.”

The original Timicus asked, “Really? Who won?”

All three of the future Timicuses said, “It wouldn’t be much of a contest if they find out now, would it?” then the younger and the middle aged Timicuses looked at each other and both said, “Pardon me.”

Another enthusiastic Timicus poofed in momentarily, then poofed away again.