The package instantly disappeared into the dark night leaving Agnes holding nothing but thin air.

“MEWWO??!”

“No dear!!! I didn't see that coming! … I guess Grough assumes I have enough of my faculties left to remember the correct address to the house!”

“Meeeowwe?”

“Oh not to worry!” Agnes said as she pulled the flying goggles back over her eyes, “I’ll get us there!”

Reaching into a very long, thin interior cape pocket, Agnes pulled out a crooked wooden wand and pointed it toward the glistening city.

                            * * *

“A spark of blue … in a moon so bright … show me the path …  to travel tonight … Number 47 on Wellbourne Street … this is the place … where the household sleeps.”

An electrified cobalt spark leapt from her baton and a moment later a green border of twinkling starlight wrapped about a large house on a hillside.

“Well … Looks like we have a legitimate address.” Agnes shrugged.

Putting the wand back into the thin pocket of her cape, Agnes tucked her feet atop either side of the broom bristles, and pointed the stick toward the ground.

“Hold on dear!” She called over her shoulder.

Fiona prayerfully gripped the tattered pieces of straw and clamped her eyes shut just as the broom plunged.

 “YYYEEE-HAA!” Agnes gleefully called out as she maneuvered the broom between the tall towers of the Golden Gate Bridge. Their sudden arrival scattered a flock of pigeons that had been fast asleep on the cables. Just passed the bridge, she leaned to the right and sped along the shoreline. Her path led her along narrow streets and back alleys and she weaved in and out of parked cars and rustled leaves of small hedges as she headed toward the Embarcadero.