"I could be wrong, but, if that had been me, I might be motivated to hang around for one or two reasons," Robert said. "If I were her and somebody shrank me and put me in a bug jar, I'd be livid. And if someone accidently opened the jar, I'd be out for revenge on the bastard that put me in that damned jar. Second, if I were working for someone and I were promised some exorbitant reward, I'd be centered on finishing the task so I could get that reward--especially if I knew they lived in an unplottable location and it was bloody hard to get back to."
"I hate it when you have a point--especially a dark one," Michael replied. "Your brain has some very dark bits, you know that?"
"I do," Robert said. "That's why I'm good at defense strategizing. I can understand my dark arts enemies. It's a distinct advantage." He turned to Abbey. "How did you get the jar down off the shelf?"
"I asked it to come down pweeze," she said.
"Show me," he said, putting the jar up on the dining room fireplace mantel. Abbey made a grabbing motion with her hand, opening and closing her fist and called out to the jar.
"Come 'ere, Jar. Pweeeze? I no reach you!" she said. It took a moment but the jar shakily levitated and floated over towards her, landing on the floor partway across the room.
"She's not supposed to be able to do that yet," Michael remarked.
"Um, yeah. I know," Robert replied. "That's one spell I do see every so often in a young one, though. I think its more about wishing than witchery. There is a thing called wishcraft that is generally a precursor to one's own magical abilities actually kicking in. A little one sees something they want, and they unintentionally levitate it to them, and they think the object they moved is an enchanted object--much the same way as 'someone' here believes the crayons are magical. This little one, though, I have to watch her all the time, because with her? I just never know." He looked at Abbey. "Now, Abbey, I know we haven't talked about this yet, but if you ever want to open a jar that's in one of my rooms, you come ask me first, alright? Some jars are okay to open, and some jars have really pretty things in them that could really hurt you. So, don't just open my jars. Come and ask, and if its alright to open the jar, you and I will open them together. Fair enough?"
"But she cried, Papa," Abbey said.
"And I'm glad you have such a good heart. If you find something crying in one of my jars, you come tell me. I'll try to make them feel better. Deal?" She looked at him and nodded.
"So what should we do, sit around and wait for her to rain hellfire down on the house again?" Kate asked.
"No. I think not. I might have to try to come up with some sort of bait that would be too attractive for even her to resist."
"I think I might be able to help you there," Gabe said. "I have an idea. Jack, I'll need the pieces of her staff if you still have them."