Allyson was a precocious seven-year-old, innocent as a newborn but a soul older than the granite in the hillside behind her grandfather’s house. Her eyes were deep pools that lit up at the thought of journeys to ancient or exotic lands, visitations by angels, or rummaging through the old trunks and wardrobes in her grandparent’s attic.

Today it was raining hard, and Allyson’s grandfather had to go into town, so he couldn’t explore with her today. Her grandmother was puttering in the kitchen, and heavenly smells came wafting up the stairs, mixed with the strains of some Verdi opera. This was home to Allyson. Outside it was much too wet and cold, and the chill would cut right through you before you could take half a dozen steps into the back yard. So today she was inside, anticipating visiting another world, being transported to places beyond the stars, and she was happy. Allyson always had permission to go up to the attic, and she never refused her calling when she visited with Gram and Grampa. The attic was her special place, and they knew that.

The third stair creaked as she climbed the last flight up to the dusty brown door. The doorknob was ancient crystal, a gift, she said, of the Sultan of Bündalaar, from the planet Sämar in the Trinian Galaxy. Usually it sparkled as the sunlight shown through the octagon shaped window above the staircase and touched it and its brass collar, but today the storm outside made the stairway dark enough that she had to turn on the hall light.

She turned the knob and pushed the door gently – it swung open as smooth as silk, until it banged lightly against the old dresser. The floorboards creaked as she padded in her slippers – creak, swish….creak, swish. The sound of the rain against the roof filled the musty room with a familiar vibration.

It was dark in spite of the floor lamp that stood to the side of the wardrobe, but it was warm and cozy, with sweet smells and heavenly music in the air – everything was familiar, so Allyson wasn’t afraid. She sat down for a moment in Gram’s old rocking chair that her great grandmother had brought from the old country. It was a special chair, and it felt good to be cradled in its smooth arms. It had a feeling Allyson knew was from some far away place. She uncurled from the chair and ran her hand over the surface of the dresser, feeling its fine hand varnished surface. The wood felt warm to the touch. Yes, this was home – her home beyond never.

Allyson stood in front of the freestanding full-length mirror, and smiled at herself reflected through a filmy layer of dust. Allyson waited, but just for a moment, and then she appeared in the reflection beside her. Allyson turned and looked into the dark eyes of the woman and reached up and hugged her hard. She was dressed in long flowing fabrics, soft to the touch, silky, and feeling of the warmth of the sun. “Are you ready?” the woman asked.

Taking Allyson by the hand they walked to the dusty trunk in the corner. Allyson lifted the lid, and they both stepped in and scrunched down. Allyson pulled the trunk lid closed and they were dashed into darkness blacker than midnight. She always loved the soft swishing sounds she heard on these journeys, and this time was no different. In time the noise softened, gradually died down, and then all was silent. The woman whispered softly into Allyson’s ear, and Allyson nodded, said, “Yes,” and pushed the lid up, opening it to bright sunlight.

Allyson found herself at the edge of a magical forest where the trees were dark and forbidding, and the bright sunlight did nothing to lessen their pall. She could feel a tension in the air, and she didn’t like that. All of a sudden out of the trees came racing a large furry rabbit, wearing a green vest, careening between the bushes and around rocks and over fallen trees. The rabbit was chased by two powerful looking dogs of the mongrel type. The larger dog’s teeth were bared, and flashing in the sunlight. Its eyes flared red – as deep as field poppies. It howled an eerie moan, as bone chilling as something heard in dank old graveyards – and its muscles rippled under its short tan fur.

The second dog was smaller, but more powerfully built. He was limping because of a deformed right paw, but in spite of this kept pace with the first dog. The rabbit came flying around the last tree at the edge of the forest, and ran smack into Allyson. The rabbit flopped on its back from the impact, and hurriedly picked itself up, and leaped into Allyson’s protective arms. The two dogs slid to a halt before Allyson, and snarling, lunged at the ball of fur protected in her arms. Allyson stood as tall as she could, and turned to shield the rabbit with her body. The dogs snarled and leaped and snapped, but Allyson was steadfast and wouldn’t let them near the bunny. Then a smallish dark-skinned man rode up on a massive horse, and pulled up alongside Allyson and the two frenzied dogs. He barked a command, and the two dogs stopped and fell to beside the rider.

Allyson looked up into the broad face of the man, into his large steel-grey eyes, but before she could say a word, he said he was sorry if his dogs had frightened her. He dismounted and introduced himself as the King of the Forest. These were his guards, Toomer and Jason, who were chasing this enemy of the realm.

Allyson protested that this was a mere bunny. The king smiled a most benevolent smile, and said, “Yes, he certainly has that appearance.” He continued that this was Rudolfo, the notorious leader of a most irksome rebellion that has plagued his kingdom for 20 years, and which has cost the king many thousands of ducats, and the lives of numerous of his men. Allyson looked down at the bunny, and laughed out loud. The king was not amused. He said his kingdom was most enlightened, and truly cared about all creatures large and small. His realm had a judicial system second to none in all the kingdoms of the world. He said the judges of his courts were of the utmost integrity, and excellently trained in all matters before the law.

However, because Rudolfo had broken so many of his kingdom’s laws, he would have to take the rebel leader to his dungeons, and his courts would try him justly. The king’s words were smooth, and flowed off his tongue as thick cream from a silver pitcher. They had that sweet sound that pulled a sense of trust from deep within, much like the trust Allyson felt with her Gram and Grampa.

The king reached out to take the rabbit, but Allyson stepped back a step and said she couldn’t give him over to the king. The king spent the next half-hour speaking in such wonderful prose, using such convincing logic, and with such deeply felt sentiments, that Allyson was almost persuaded to turn Rudolfo over to the king. Something in the back of her mind, though, said “danger,” so she said, no, she would keep the rabbit for protection, and would the king please send his dogs away. The king hesitated a moment, and Allyson felt in that brief instant a most unpleasant sensation – the feeling passed, and the king smiled and spoke something to the two dogs, who then trotted off back into the forest.

The rabbit, who had remained silent through all this, suddenly spoke, and startled Allyson so she almost dropped him. He spoke directly to the king in forceful words, and accused him of most mean and vicious things. He described the guards of his kingdom, especially Toomer and Jason, as the meanest animals in the realm. They intimidated all animals, took delight as they tortured innocent creatures, and outright killed those who were declared enemies of the king. His family all had been treated in this manner, and he and his son were the only survivors remaining to lead the creatures.

The king objected to this characterization, and again the silvery words poured out, and again Allyson could feel the pull and power of his eloquence. Rudolfo didn’t blink an eye, and countered the king’s protestations. He told of numerous atrocities perpetrated by the king’s dogs that spanned years, and of how they kept the creatures of the kingdom living in constant fear. Their maltreatment knew no bounds, and they relished causing such pain.

The bunny turned to Allyson and described how his son had taken over the rebellion from him, because he was now too old to continue the rigors of the battle. The creatures of the realm loved his son, and feared and hated the king and all his mean-spirited kith and kin. The king scowled, and started to protest, but then held his tongue. Instead with honey-dripping words he invited Allyson to come to his castle, to meet his supreme judges, talk with his counselors, and to hear the people speak. As a measure and token of his trust, he offered to Allyson his own golden ring, the all-powerful symbol of the kingdom. Allyson reluctantly agreed to the visit, and took the ring, but the hair on the back of her neck stood on end – and the bunny in her arms stiffened, confirming her sensing of the king’s deeper intentions. She knew she would have to get back home as soon as possible, and with the rabbit.

Since her arrival in the king’s forest, and with all the incidents surrounding the chase of Rudolfo and her protection of him, and the lengthy interchange with the king, she had not moved very far from her original landing spot. She didn’t want to make any obvious or suspicious moves, so she tried to look without looking as though she was looking for something. Out of the corner of her eye, Allyson could see the trunk in the clearing near the edge of the forest, and she was standing beside it. Allyson told the king she would follow him to his castle, so he started off into the dark forest with Allyson following.

All of a sudden Toomer and Jason, who had trotted off earlier, came racing out of the darkness with their fangs bared and lunged at Allyson and Rudolfo. The king had betrayed her trust! There was a flurry of figures and bodies and angry movement, and then the woman was standing between the king and his dogs and their quarry. She threw her cloak over Allyson and her furry companion, and the king and his henchdogs were forced to shield their eyes as a blinding flash obliterated everything for the briefest of moments – and then they were gone. Allyson could still see the king, who was furious, and the dogs, who, puzzled, ran in circles searching and sniffing.

The woman said they were invisible; “They can’t see us.” The woman then nodded in the direction of the clearing, and the two walked quickly to the trunk. The woman opened the lid, and the two stepped inside and scrunched down, and the woman closed the lid after them. The bunny snuggled deeper into Allyson’s arms, and when the soft swishing sounds began, it relaxed completely.

The sounds seemed to last longer on the return journey, but eventually it slowed and died as it always did. The woman lifted the lid, and the two travelers stepped out and into Allyson’s grandparent’s attic once again. The rain still beat on the windows, and Allyson could hear the wind howling outside the panes mixed with strains of Verdi. The woman whispered something into Allyson’s ear, and she stepped through the glass of the floor-length mirror – and just before her image faded in the silvered glass, she smiled and nodded – Allyson waved, and then she was gone. Allyson looked around the attic, and then down at the bunny she still clutched to her chest. It was a stuffed child’s bunny, wearing a green vest – and on its wrist was the king’s golden ring…