"Excuse me," the prince at the door said looking around and then back at the rectangular object in his hand
with the glowing glass face. He hesitated, "My GPS insists that this is the International House of Pancakes,
but obviously it isn't? Is there one nearby? Today is Pancake Day, and they're giving away free short
stacks."
"International- GPS?" Sara said in a confused voice.
Morgana stepped in between her and the prince with a platter laden with her delicious pancakes.
"So you like pancakes, uh, what's your name handome?" Morgana said batting her eyes, but his eyes were focused
only on the pancakes.
"I do like pancakes very much ma'am. My name is Ephraim, prince of sausages. Is this the International House
of Pancakes? You don't have terribly good signage or parking for that matter. I had to park my park my lorry
down by the gate."
"Lorry?" Morgana asked, "What did you say your name was prince?"
"Ephraim, the Prince of Sausages. I've got a truck load of bangers, bratwurst and-"
"Wait a minute you are a sausage vendor, not real royalty?"
"Well, strictly speaking I suppose that's true, though my late great aunt insisted that great great great
grandfather was a bastard sired by the crown prince. Of course, he never got to be king, but-"
"Take five," Morgana said snapping her fingers. Ephraim froze. "Okay, first I lose my castle. Now my spells
are acting up. It could be that he is a hereditary bastard prince, but he's just selling sausages, and not on
a quest except to get free pancakes!" stormed Morgana racing into the cottage to check her magic mirror.
"What's a GPS? Is it magical?"
"Global Positioning Satellites - they don't exist yet. So, I'm guessing my spell snatched him out of time,
and transmitted my coordinates to him. But I'm not sure."
Maedel had come out to inspect the frozen young man. She came in now to hover to see what Morgana would do.
"He certainly is a purveyor of large sausage," she whispered.