Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction based on the story and characters that are the property of the creators and producers of "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" syndicated television series.

Author Note's: An enormous thanks to my beta reader Jacqueline, thanks so much for making the necessary changes.

Restless Spirits

Enormous grey clouds covered the now barely visible sun, which not minutes ago had been giving the most replenishing sunrays across the plateau. It had taken a matter of seconds for them to cover up the sky. The plateau greenery swayed with each passing wind. In a corner remote in the plateau, a very chagrined Marguerite sat on top of a large boulder, her face covered with the most exasperating frown. I swear, next time I'll tell him where to go and get his precious... she stopped short before she said something she'd regret later. Today, her thoughts where pretty harsh, but who could blame her? The weather was getting unpredictable. Sitting alone here brought out the worst in her; then again, this kind of weather could bring out anyone's worst temperament. She had been enjoying a long nap when her younger counterpart had woken her up; she was in need of Marguerite's help, as well as her company. Professor George Challenger had once again needed their assistance in locating a certain flower, a blue orchid. She had only agreed to go with Veronica because she was having the worst case of loneliness ever. The weather had been acting erratic this past couple of days. Today, for a change, it seemed to look brighter, but had she been wrong.

"I can't take it any more!" She got up in a huff.

Not five minutes ago, a very annoyed Veronica had told her to wait for her while she went to the end of the cliff to get the orchid. She had obliged, knowing that she would only slow her down, and besides, she knew her true reason for not wanting company. She was getting on Veronica's nerves. "Nothing different then..." She let out a small chuckle.

Ten minutes! She had said it would only take her ten minutes. It seems like I've been waiting for half an hour, she thought. She tried to think of something to occupy her mind, but nothing came forward. She wasn't a patient woman by any means. She usually got bored easily, her intelligent, fertile mind constantly seeking out new challenges and ideas. This plateau usually kept her on her toes; every month there seemed to be a different kind of adventure. And there was Lord John Roxton. He usually kept her entertained one way or the other; if they weren't fighting, they were making up or flirting.

Her eyes darted across the field; everything seemed calm. Maybe too calm, but then again it looked like the downpour would start at any moment. Most of the creatures sought shelter from what looked to be a tropical storm. "That's what we should be doing, where are you? Veronica!" Instantly her arms wrapped around her body protecting herself from the callous wind.

She was about to go and look for the woman, when something caught her eye. A small blue felt bag was lying across the field. As she moved closer, she felt a slight shiver up her spine; why in the world would a blue felt bag be doing out in the middle of an open field, deep in the jungle? She ignored it and continued. The bag might possibly contain some money or another valuable that she could use. Her hand greedily reached for the bag, instantly claiming its contents. Whatever was inside of it was weighty.

"What have we got here?" A smile formed on the heiress' lips as she tipped the bag's contents onto the palm of her hand.

A small hair ornament adorned with a single silver rose was one of the objects found in the bag; two identical gold rings were also there, along with two exquisitely crafted cufflinks. The silver locket was the thing that caught Marguerite's attention. She immediately put the other things back in the bag, leaving out the locket for closer study. It was indeed a very beautiful yet simple piece of jewellery. Her finger gently worked on the little locking device but it was no use; it appeared to be stuck.

"Never mind! I'm sure I find something to pry it open later," she said as she brushed part of her hair aside. Bringing the locket around her neck she fastened the clasp.

Almost immediately her countenance changed; no longer was she Marguerite Krux, but she had become Countess Arienne.

Continued in " First Reactions"