Jessica smiled happily, and led William to one of the tents. "It's right this way. My friend has it," she said, still smiling. She led him towards a mysterious, dark purple tent. 

The fly reported back. "Yo," it said in fly-speak, which of course only William, with years of experience, could understand, "ran into some magical barrier off of the edge of the pier. Also, there seems to be some sort of door underneath of the water, facing up at the sky." (Obviously, this is a rough translation, as most fly-speak to English translations often are.