“Why doesn’t father like the island?” Aise suddenly asked, gazing out over the water at it. She’d never understood that. Her father talked about the island as though it were dangerous, so she never mentioned that she’d been there several times. She also always remembered to leave the flowers she had collected from there at Uncle J’s cabin, so father wouldn’t know she’d been there. She didn’t want to worry him. But she always did wonder why. Every time she’d been there nothing horrible had happened; she never even fell down and scraped her knee, as she was prone to do on land sometimes (though oddly enough she’d never fallen out of the skiff, even in the roughest of waters), or come across a dangerous animal.

     Uncle J shrugged “Perhaps he’s just wary of it. Larger ships sometimes wreck on this islet, because they can’t see it in storms, and the water around here is so shallow.”

     Aislin peered over the side of the craft and took a breath of awe. “So pretty!” she exclaimed. The water here was very clear and still smooth, so she could see all the way to the sand at the bottom, no further away from her than the tip of the skiff’s mast. Their shadow drifted across submerged dunes and lake grasses, shimmering in the sunlight. A school of those silvery fish flickered away, followed by a large, lazy, shadow-fish, just out for a morning swim to stretch its fins.

     As they drew closer, Aise could see some little insect-like flutterings around the shore. When she asked uncle J about them he seemed surprised. “Those are okushiyovi," he said, watching them. “Little Dragons. I think your people call them dragon flys. For the most part, they’re shy, skittish little beasts that live on the mainland. They’re usually bound to land because they’re not very strong fliers, and would die if they ventured out over the lake too far. One must’ve gotten blown out here during the last storm and laid it’s eggs on the island. My people say if you see one it’s a good omen.”

     Aise’s eyes were wide “Really? I saw one once, a long time ago!” she exclaimed excitedly.

     “Oh? When was this?” Uncle J wanted to know.

     “When we first moved here, the day I met you.” She said, beaming.

     “Ah yes,” he purred, remembering the day “The little girl who got lost in the woods and couldn’t find her way home. That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

     Aislin nodded “Yup, I was only five then. But now I’m almost nine!”

     Uncle J chuckled “Yes, quite a long time, little visslii. And I must say, you’re a lot better now at handling the skiff than you were the first time we came out here.”

     Aise beamed proudly.

     As they neared the shore, uncle J took over. Aislin didn’t want to accidentally wreck his boat on the island. He steered into the little sandy cove that they always tied up at and lassoed the single rock sticking up out of the water. “Is exploratory party ready to go ashore?” he asked, and Aise giggled.

     “Aye!” she said, saluting and giggling.

     “Then lets be off!” Uncle J vaulted over the side in to the waist-deep water and shifted back to his true form. Aise followed, slipping onto his back for a ride to shore. The water almost reached her knees, but at least she didn’t have to swim. And she always loved the feel of uncle J’s fur, and the way his feathered wings tucked in around her knees to keep her steady as he half swam, half walked to shore.

     When they reached the beach, Aislin jumped off and scrambled up a dune, then down the other side, sand sticking to her wet legs and pouring into her shoes. She should’ve put on her sandals today, ‘cause then she wouldn’t have to worry about getting the sand out of her shoes when they left. But for now, she was just happy to be here. When she climbed to the grassy ledge surrounding the cove she squeaked happily.

     “Uncle J! Come look!” she pointed excitedly out over the island to where the little blue, green, and brown, flittering dragon flys darted from flower to flower, sipping nectar. From her lookout she could see almost the whole island, except for the sheltered caves on the other side of the peak.

     Uncle J came up behind her and smiled “Aren’t they wonderful? They look young too; must’ve just j'kyis. Changed into adults.” After a moment he reached into the grass and plucked up a small stone with three clear, hollow, fragile looking crystals, about as long one of Aislin’s hands. “See?”

     Aise’s marveled at their smooth surfaces, and when he dropped the stone into the palm of her hand she realized the shells weren’t brittle, like real crystals would've been, or smooshy like a lizard egg after it hatched. Theye were sort of tough and leathery. She thought they felt a lot like uncle J’s paw-pads, only thinner. The tear in one side of each crystal where the thing must’ve hatched out of was nothing more than a small cut. She hung onto the hatched crystals as a keepsake, because she thought they were very special.

     “Will they be scared if I go pick flowers?” she asked, yearning to frolic in the meadow.

     “Oh,” uncle J said, a slight smile on his face “I don’t think so.”

     Aislin squealed delightedly and darted forward, but then stopped when one of the creatures darted away from her. When uncle J reached her side she asked why that had happened. His reply was reproachful, but he sounded more amused than anything else.

     “Well, silly visslii, you ran at it. You’d be afraid too if a big creature suddenly charged at you, right?”

     “Oh,” she said, somewhat sheepish. She hadn’t thought of that. This time she moved more slowly, and uncle J padded next to her silently. This time they didn’t flee, but rather fluttered closer and inspected the two of them. Aise giggled when one landed on her shoulder and nuzzled in her ear. That tickled!

     After a while, and every little dragon fly had come to investigate them, Aislin wandered around picking flowers for a pretty crown. She wove them together, their sweet smell drawing more than a few random visitors to her. She liked the blue ones best. They were more adventurous than their green and brown brothers and sisters. The blue ones would even sit on her knee as she worked, watching her weave the long stems in and out and around her little crown of flowers.