"Polly's gone," said Annie sadly. "I was hoping she might come back with us."
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Polly looked straight at Jack.
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"Oh man." Jack sighed. "That was close." He was still holding the gold medallion.
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Drip, drip.
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"Polly!" Annie cried.
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Rain was dripping from the leaves of the tree.
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Squawk!
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"Or the M person," said Annie.
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"What -- what are you doing here?" he asked her.
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Then Jack put the gold medallion beside the bookmark with the letter M.
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"No magic creature has ever come back with us," said Jack.
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Next he went down onto his knees. And ran his finger over the shimmering M on the floor. "We didn't find any M's on this trip," he said.
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Jack opened his eyes.
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The parrot swooshed into the tree house. She perched on the stack of books.
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He pulled off his backpack. It was damp with rain and saltwater.
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Jack took out the pirate book. He put it on the stack of books. On top of the dinosaur book. And the knight book. And the mummy book.
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They were back in Frog Creek. The rain was softer. The wind was gentler. The air was sweeter.
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Slowly Polly raised her bright green wings. They grew bigger and bigger until they spread out like a huge green cape.
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Then, in a great swirl of colors -- in a blur of feathers and light -- in a flapping and stretching and screeching -- a new being took shape.
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Polly was not a parrot any longer. In her place was an old woman. A beautiful old woman with long white hair and piercing eyes.
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She wore a green feathered cape. She perched on the stack of books. And she was very calm and very still.
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"Hello, Jack. Hello, Annie," the old woman said. "My name is Morgan le Fay."
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Neither Jack nor Annie could speak. They were too amazed.
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